“Yeah. Guy’s looking for seasonal work. Certified diver, experienced with freshwater systems.” Rex’s face crinkles as he pulls at his memory. “Conservation work in Scotland. Lakes, rivers, that kind of thing. Sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”
I freeze atScotland.“He’s Scottish?” I ask. My voice sounds strange.
“Yeah. Has all the right certifications, spent time talking about the water. Outdoorsy type. Comfortable in the water, good with people. Went on about respecting local ecosystems and wantingto learn from established operations.” He glances up. “Bit formal. Very earnest.”
The tightness in my chest is spreading. “Earnest.”
“Like he’s trying to make a good impression. Mentioned he’d heard good things about San Pedro Eco-Tours, wanted to be part of something that prioritized education and conservation.” Rex shrugs. “Seemed sincere.”
Earnest. Formal. Trying to make a good impression.
“What else?” I ask, and my voice is very carefully neutral.
Rex drums out a syncopated beat on his chest. “Not much. Standard stuff. Availability for the full summer season, willing to start immediately, flexible schedule. References from conservation groups in Scotland.” He pauses. “Oh, and he mentioned he has experience with tours. Worked as a guide before.”
The world is tilting slightly. I set my coffee down before I drop it.
“Rex,” I say. “What’s his name?”
He blinks at me, scrunching his face as he searches his memory banks. “I didn’t get it.” He takes his phone out and frowns at it as he scrolls. “Well damn.”
“It’s Muir,” I say. “Isn’t it.”
Rex stops scrolling. Looks at me. “How did you?—”
“Scottish. Conservation work. Earnest and formal and trying very hard to sound professional.” I’m standing now, though I don’t remember deciding to stand. “It’s him. It’s Muir.”
“Dammit, I’m sorry. I fucked up.”
“Can I see your phone?”
He hands it over without argument. I navigate to the form and spread my fingers to expand it.
New Submission: Employment Inquiry - Dive Guide Position
I open it.
Muir Callaghan
I stop reading. I don’t need to see more. The name is enough. The name is everything.
“He applied for a job,” I say out loud, testing the words. “He came back to Harmony Glen and applied to work for us.”
“Looks like it,” Rex says carefully.
“He wants to workhere. On the lake. With—” I can’t finish the sentence.
Rex is watching me, trying to figure out how bad this is and what kind of support I need. “I can tell him the position’s filled. Easy. One email.”
The lie is right there, easy and available. I could take it with both hands and lock the whole situation neatly away and go back to the summer I had planned. The summer that was going so well three days ago. The summer that was exactly what I wanted.
“No,” I hear myself say.
Rex waits.
“He needs the work,” I say. Probably true and definitely a more dignified reason than the one operating somewhere below mybreastbone, the one that sounds uncomfortably likeI want to know who he is now. “And we already have the application. It would be rude.” I turn back around. “Besides. If he’s working for us, at least I know where he is. Better than running into him unexpectedly all summer.”
Rex’s expression does something extremely neutral. His version of agreement. “Right,” he says.