“Seven times,” I mutter, reaching for the offensive phone. “Seven gods-damn times. How much can one female have to say?”
Pointedly ignoring the gods-awful screensaver Helena put on my phone, I swipe up and see what was so important that she had to interrupt me again. My last message has been clear.
Me: I'll be working in my office this morning.
Meaning: Leave. Me. Alone. Let me work in peace. But she clearly didn’t understand the message.
Princess: What are you doing? I looked for you this morning but didn’t see you.
Princess: You’re not on the deck either. I checked. You should be out here. The sun is shining, and the birds are out this morning.
The third text isn’t a text at all but rather a blurry, out-of-focus picture of Helena with her fingers held up in the international peace sign. I can make out Jean Luc standing behind her, his expression one of wary amusement. Just as I’m about to reply,anothertext comes through. I groan, scrolling down to read it.
Princess: You missed the most incredible breakfast. Jean Luc made beignets.
It is true. I had missed breakfast. On purpose. Last night, I had been tossing and turning in my bed when my phone pinged at 2 a.m. I had picked it up and squinted at the screen with bleary eyes.
Princess: What is there to do on this ship at night?
I was up. Sleeping never came naturally to me, and once I was up, that was it. I hadn’t been in the mood to chat, let alone learn why Helena had been awake at such an ungodly hour.
For all I knew, she had woken up, sent the text as a joke, then returned to sleep.
How infuriating. That word sums up our relationship. Infuriating. Frustrating. Vexing.
A few hours later, I had given up on all pretenses of sleeping and wandered into the mess hall. I had been determined to have a good day. Work had been piling up in my office over the past few days, and I had finally decided to deal with it. That was the downside of being the captain. There was no one else to do your work for you.
The only person in the mess hall this morning had been Jean Luc. He had been bustling around in the kitchen, the aroma of something delicious wafting through the air.
Even after twenty years, I don’t know much about the man. He is a man of many secrets, but one thing is certain. He knows how to cook. The modern appliances onThe Black Roseonly make his job easier.
“Morning, Captain,” he had said, a grin on his face as he popped out of the kitchen. “Bit early for you, no?”
I had grunted a reply that sounded somewhere between “yep” and “don’t care” as I poured a copious amount of coffee into my thermos. It was going to be a long day. I could feel it in my bones.
Jean Luc had studied me for a moment before raising a brow. “Maddie showed me the phone you gave her yesterday. That was kind of you.”
Slamming the lid on my thermos, I turned on my heel and glared at the chef. “I just did it to get her off my back. She’s insufferable.”
The sailor tilted his head, watching me carefully. “I’ve known you for a long time, Captain, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes,” I grunted.
Jean Luc had served the previous Pirate of Death before I took over the mantle. He was one of the few men I had kept on the crew. He was loyal and trustworthy.
“I like Maddie,” he said, focusing on the cutting board before him.
“Good for you.” I ran a hand over my face.
He continued to chop, the sound echoing through the empty mess hall. “I like you, too.”
“Is there a point to this conversation?” I bit out between clenched teeth.
Chewing on his cheek, Jean Luc considered me for a moment. “Nope. Just wanted to let you know what I see.”
The sound of chopping filled the air as we stood there, watching each other.
“Okay, then,” I said, slamming the door as I left. My mood thoroughly soured, I had stomped back to my office, where I had remained ever since.