had been, but the fact that shereminded him of a ghost left him feeling more repelled than attracted. He took another step away and thought he might hurl.
“Captain
Betancourt
.” He heard another woman’s voice from behind him.
He couldn’t take this. His head honestly felt like it was going to come off and roll down the stern. He forced his eyeballs to shift in the other direction. It was Cinderella.
“I see you’ve met our captain,” she said merrily to the Renece look-alike.
Cinderella had two steaming Styrofoam cups in her hand and a water bottle tucked under her arm, and unloaded all of them onto the captain’s table before looping her arm around Renece Look-alike and steering her away. “He’s going to get us off to sea in just a couple of minutes, so I’m going to ask everyone to take a seat.” Cinderella threw a megawatt smile to the little boy. “I have a special place for
you
to sit. Right next to Willy the Whale! Would you like that?” The boy bobbed his head maniacally, and Cinderella guided them both back down to the main deck.
Evan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and eyed the bottled water. Without another thought, he yanked off the cap and took four long gulps before tearing into the Advil packets.
“Yes, that was for you,” Cinderella said, returning to the bridge and eyeing the nearly empty bottle. “Want another?”
“That’d be great.”
“The coffee’s for you, too.” She scooted the Styrofoam cup closer. “Cora makes amazing coffee—you might rethink that deckhand remark.”
As irritating as she’d been with her excruciating cheerfulness earlier, she now seemed like some sort of angel. One who could flit around with bottled water and strong brew.
“Thanks,” he said, keeping his voice low enough to protect him from reverberation in his head.
She reached for her own cup. “As soon as we get out to sea, can you jot some notes about what we’re seeing?”
He squinted in her direction. Damn. He’d forgotten about that part. This day was just getting better and better. “Can we keep it to a minimum?”
“What, the narration?”
“The noise. The narration. The microphone. The kids. And our”—he swung his finger back and forth between them—“interaction.” He slid another glance at her. He was being an ass. But he needed to keep her glib conversation and perky attitude from causing his head to roll into the sea.
“Sure,” she said, her voice faraway. Finally, she turned and left.
He sighed into the empty space she created. He was a jerk. He shouldn’t have accepted this request. He wasn’t fit to interact with normal human beings anymore, even if it meant possible forgiveness from his brother.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes and concentrated on the cat’s controls.
He would just get through this one day. Then he’d call Tommy Two-Time again and double his price.
If he survived today, that was.
CHAPTER
Four
L ia stood at the boat entrance and welcomed the last of the passengers aboard with her friendliest smile. They milled about in clusters in their blue jeans and tennis shoes, some sitting on the bright blue cushions along the back of the cat, some jogging toward the front where the blue lattice nets were, their cameras bobbing against their sweatshirt-clad stomachs. A family of seagulls squawked overhead and landed at the highest point on the catamaran, chests puffed, as if waiting for their ride, too. The sun broke through the gray sky and cast spotlight rays along the deck.
Lia took the last ticket and craned her neck toward the wood-shingled shops at the Sandy Cove marina to see if she could see any limos that might belong to Kyle Stevens. A limo would certainly stand out in Sandy Cove.
But he hadn’t shown. They were two minutes late now, and she didn’t know if she should wait. When a young multimillionaire booked a pre-charter check for himself and two guests, were you supposed to give him special
“Captain
Betancourt
.” He heard another woman’s voice from behind him.
He couldn’t take this. His head honestly felt like it was going to come off and roll down the stern. He forced his eyeballs to shift in the other direction. It was Cinderella.
“I see you’ve met our captain,” she said merrily to the Renece look-alike.
Cinderella had two steaming Styrofoam cups in her hand and a water bottle tucked under her arm, and unloaded all of them onto the captain’s table before looping her arm around Renece Look-alike and steering her away. “He’s going to get us off to sea in just a couple of minutes, so I’m going to ask everyone to take a seat.” Cinderella threw a megawatt smile to the little boy. “I have a special place for
you
to sit. Right next to Willy the Whale! Would you like that?” The boy bobbed his head maniacally, and Cinderella guided them both back down to the main deck.
Evan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and eyed the bottled water. Without another thought, he yanked off the cap and took four long gulps before tearing into the Advil packets.
“Yes, that was for you,” Cinderella said, returning to the bridge and eyeing the nearly empty bottle. “Want another?”
“That’d be great.”
“The coffee’s for you, too.” She scooted the Styrofoam cup closer. “Cora makes amazing coffee—you might rethink that deckhand remark.”
As irritating as she’d been with her excruciating cheerfulness earlier, she now seemed like some sort of angel. One who could flit around with bottled water and strong brew.
“Thanks,” he said, keeping his voice low enough to protect him from reverberation in his head.
She reached for her own cup. “As soon as we get out to sea, can you jot some notes about what we’re seeing?”
He squinted in her direction. Damn. He’d forgotten about that part. This day was just getting better and better. “Can we keep it to a minimum?”
“What, the narration?”
“The noise. The narration. The microphone. The kids. And our”—he swung his finger back and forth between them—“interaction.” He slid another glance at her. He was being an ass. But he needed to keep her glib conversation and perky attitude from causing his head to roll into the sea.
“Sure,” she said, her voice faraway. Finally, she turned and left.
He sighed into the empty space she created. He was a jerk. He shouldn’t have accepted this request. He wasn’t fit to interact with normal human beings anymore, even if it meant possible forgiveness from his brother.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes and concentrated on the cat’s controls.
He would just get through this one day. Then he’d call Tommy Two-Time again and double his price.
If he survived today, that was.
CHAPTER
Four
L ia stood at the boat entrance and welcomed the last of the passengers aboard with her friendliest smile. They milled about in clusters in their blue jeans and tennis shoes, some sitting on the bright blue cushions along the back of the cat, some jogging toward the front where the blue lattice nets were, their cameras bobbing against their sweatshirt-clad stomachs. A family of seagulls squawked overhead and landed at the highest point on the catamaran, chests puffed, as if waiting for their ride, too. The sun broke through the gray sky and cast spotlight rays along the deck.
Lia took the last ticket and craned her neck toward the wood-shingled shops at the Sandy Cove marina to see if she could see any limos that might belong to Kyle Stevens. A limo would certainly stand out in Sandy Cove.
But he hadn’t shown. They were two minutes late now, and she didn’t know if she should wait. When a young multimillionaire booked a pre-charter check for himself and two guests, were you supposed to give him special
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