PALMER
I think it was the first crack in the dam, but none of us noticed the pressure building until the flood hit.
“How does it feel to not have your head in a toilet?” I teased Leah, looping my arm through hers in the back of the cab. Drop-off day had gone swimmingly, the guests leaving with big smiles on their faces and big money in our hands. Now, it was time for the crew to let loose and celebrate, and I was ready.
I’d managed to mostly avoid Finn the rest of the charter, acknowledging him only as necessary to get our jobs done. Dinner service was fine, breakfast was exactly as the guests ordered, and now I didn’t have to deal with him professionally until our preference sheet meeting tomorrow.
I needed the break from him most of all.
Of course, he was in the same freaking car with me at the moment, so the break wasn’t exactly all-encompassing.
“Ugh, I am still so mortified.” Leah groaned, burying her head in my chest as I smirked and pet her hair. “Second charter and I go down, leaving you and Bernard to fend for yourselves.”
“Thankfully, they had me!” Gisella piped in from the seat in front of us. She was practically sitting in Finn’s lap, her lipstick stained on his cheek. Finn didn’t look too happy about it. But then again, he didn’t look too happyperiod,so it likely had nothing to do with Gisella. In fact, if I had to guess, that moodof his was more to do with our spat on the beach than anything else. “But personally, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m ready to get back on deck. Not that I don’t enjoy interior, but I want to be in the sunshine, not locked up doing laundry.”
She tilted her head back as if she were sunbathing now, a wide smile on her face. When she opened her eyes again, she grinned down at Finn and nuzzled his nose.
I wrinkled mine, and Leah fought back a laugh as she sat up and tucked her hair behind one ear. “Yes, Gisella. We’re all very lucky you were able to fill in for me,” she said. “Can’t imagine what we would’ve done otherwise.”
Leah and I shared a look, me gripping onto her knee as I did my best not to roll my eyes. Leah could barely contain her smirk.
“No oysters tonight, yeah?” I said as we pulled up to the restaurant.
Leah grimaced. “Never again.”
Finn hadn’t said a word in the cab, brooding to himself and letting Gisella talk his ear off.
When we all started piling out of the cab, he stood at the door, helping Gisella out, then Leah, and finally extending a hand for mine.
I stared at it a beat too long, heat rushing up my spine at the sight of that scarred hand and all the memories it evoked for me. Those tan fingers had once traced every inch of me, learning me like a map he wanted to know by heart. Just the thought of sliding my palm against his again made my skin prickle, my breath hitching in my throat.
My fingers twitched toward his, heart thumping a little harder as I closed the distance — until another memory made me pause.
His words at the beach echoed in my mind, sharp as broken glass.
You weren’t there.
Like it wasmewho’d driven us into the ground instead of him.
Like it wasmewho was the bad guy for not turning my back on all my goals to follow him as he pursued his.
The reminder stung like dry ice to my skin, chasing away any warmth.
I acted as if I were going to let him help me, but at the last second, I pulled my hand back, flipped him off with a sweet smile instead, and hopped out on my own, brushing past him to catch up with Leah and Bernard.
“I need a drink immediately,” I declared, and I felt the determination to numb myself drowning out all the memories vying for my attention.
Bernard slung his arm around my shoulder with a grin. “Time for our first round of shots?”
Leah gagged and we all laughed.
Everyone except Finn.
I’d almost grown used to the cameras now, their presence feeling more normal than I ever thought it could. All through dinner, I forgot about them, talking and laughing with the rest of the crew as we devoured each plate of food placed in front of us. It almost felt like a normal yacht season, like I was on one of the many boats I’d worked, and it was a regular crew night out.
Until the conversation turned a direction I didn’t see coming, and those lenses felt like sunbeams through a magnifying glass trying to take me out like an unsuspecting ant.
I was content, sipping a delightfully dirty martini as I listened to Cameron tell us all about growing up in Edinburgh. He was a self-declared mama’s boy with two younger brothers he helped care for. It was sweet, listening to how he wanted to work his way up to captain and make it where his mom never had towork another day in her life. That was something I loved about yachting — we worked together toward a common goal as a crew, but we were all from different backgrounds, differentcountries, with different reasons for being here and different dreams for the future.