The Winters(15)

“That must have been devastating. For both of you.”

“Yes,” he said. “She loved her mother very much, even though she was a very difficult woman for Dani to please.”

Oddly, Dani always seemed more abstract to me than Rebekah, but the idea of having a mother like that suddenly struck me as a particular kind of burden, something I could understand, even if I couldn’t relate. Never did it occur to me that I would one day meet Dani and come to know her, and that the question of her well-being, her sanity, would be of paramount concern to me, to my happiness, to my very life.





SEVEN


I heard her and felt her before I saw her that day, Laureen back early from St. Barts, screaming my name and stomping down the dock, the whole office shuddering with her approach.

“You better be heeere. We have a lot to taaalk about,” she sing-songed.

I scrambled to tidy up the desk, straighten out my ponytail, and hand-press my uniform. When she slapped open the door, I widened my eyes while pointing to the phone receiver I had shoved under my chin, already knowing from her expression she was aware of what I’d been up to. Thinking back to how much of my future she had held in her hands that day, I can still justify making that ridiculous fake phone call.

“Yes, yes, we can accommodate that reservation,” I said, like a cheerful idiot. “Come right down and I’ll be happy to help you. I’ll be here all day. Okay. Bye.”

I hung up on nobody.

“Laureen! You’re back early!”

“Yes, I’m back. Move,” she said, motioning me out from behind the desk.

“I would have picked you up if—”

“Tell me something,” she said, flipping the pages of the daily schedule to line up with the nightly ledger. “When you take Mr. Winter out on his overnight fishing trips, how much do you charge him?” She traced her thick index fingers down the two columns.

“The full amount. It’s all there and up to date. The club’s been keeping a tally of his food and drinks.”

It was over. The spell I’d been under for the better part of a month evaporated. Oddly, while bracing for my imminent dismissal, I wasn’t angry with John-John or myself. In fact, a feeling of peace washed over me. It had all been worth it.

Satisfied I had charged for (most of) the services rendered, Laureen straightened up. “Take a seat,” she said, her chin indicating a chair in the waiting area where Max and I had enjoyed breakfast that very first morning. It felt like such a long time ago now.

“Wait,” I said. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that what I did never interfered with running the business. I also made sure your plants were taken care of—”

“Shut up. Please. For a second.”

She came around from behind the desk and stood directly in front of me. She took a deep breath. “I actually don’t need to hear any excuses from you, or reasons, or apologies,” she said, modulating her voice with a dose of what sounded like kindness. “I just need you to go to your quarters and pack your things.”

I stood and took a step towards the door.

“I’m not finished. I need you to pack up your things and head straight to the airport because Janie’s got the plane waiting to take you to St. Barts.”

“What? Why?”

“I need you to manage the charters there while I get this fucking disaster under control. I have to meet my lawyer in George Town tomorrow. I’m being sued and I’m suing that idiot captain, because it turns out I have hired a bunch of morons I haven’t spent nearly enough time smacking around.”

“But I don’t think I’m qualified.”

“I don’t need qualified. I need someone I can trust, even though I know you haven’t been very trustworthy of late.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes to wash away the stink of a ten-million-dollar yacht stuffed with C-list royals wiping out a rare bird sanctuary.”

“I thought you came to fire me.”

She looked tired all of a sudden. “I really should. Now go. I can’t pay to hold that plane for longer than an hour. We’ll talk more after you land.”

I was frozen in place, trying to form an argument that this office, this job, even this island meant everything to me. But none of it was true. Were it not for Max, this would be about the best thing that could ever happen in my life. My reticence had only to do with him, and the promise of another week together, at most. The fact that I was weighing temporary bliss against work that could sustain me, pay my debt, help build a life for myself was something, to this day, I can barely admit.

“What if I don’t want to live in St. Barts? Don’t I have a choice in all this?”

She looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Certainly you have a choice. Here it is, kiddo. You can stay on Grand Cayman and find a job somewhere else. And since you appear to have broken every goddamn rule at this club, a reference will be a challenge. Or you can go to St. Barts now, receive a raise, earn your own way, live in your own apartment near the marina, and take on a lot more responsibility. That is your choice. And if you’re not a complete moron, you’ll make the right one.”

I turned and fled, Laureen yelling after me, “I’ll send a taxi to your place in twenty minutes. Oh, and you’re bloody welcome!”