This Is What Happy Looks Like(61)

“Totally fine,” Graham said lightly as he stepped in after her.

The water looked calm, but already Ellie felt the deck swaying beneath her feet, and she held on to Graham’s shoulder as she dropped her backpack onto a wooden bench along the port side. There was a small cabin in front with a glass windshield and an old-fashioned-looking wheel for the captain. In the back, several empty lobster traps knocked against one another, and a few red buoys rolled back and forth in time with the waves.

Ellie stepped over one of the many ropes that were coiled securely at various places along the deck. Up the hill, the sounds of the band drifted down to the water. They would play all day, she knew, and if she were to stop by later this afternoon or even tonight, they would still have the same energy to their songs, which were powerful and brassy and patriotic, the perfect send-off for a sea voyage.

“Ready to go?” she asked Graham, who was examining the many dials at the helm. The key chain that dangled from his hand had a squishy orange float attached, in case it went overboard.

“Sure,” he said, holding it out for her.

But Ellie only stared at it. “I thought you were driving.”

“What?”

She nodded at the key chain, which was still swaying between them. “Aren’t you driving?” she said. “It was your idea.”

Graham shook his head. “It’s a lobster boat,” he said, and when she didn’t respond, he widened his eyes, as if it should be obvious. “You’re from Maine.”

“So you just assume I can drive a lobster boat?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “Can’t you?”

“Do I look like a lobsterman?” she asked with a frown. “I thought you knew how. I saw you driving the other day.”

He looked at her blankly. “When?”

“When you were filming.”

“It’s a movie,” he said and groaned. “I was acting.”

Ellie sighed. “Well, why would they lend you a boat if you can’t drive it?”

“I never said they lent it to me.”

It took a moment for this to register, and when it did, she reached out and punched his shoulder. “Are you kidding me?” she said. “You stole the keys?”

“I told you,” he explained, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him. “They won’t mind if we borrow it.”

Ellie opened her mouth and then closed it again. She turned around and walked to the far end of the boat, where she stood looking up at the town, trying to decide whether it was too late to get to her mother’s car.

She was still there when Graham appeared at her side.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “I know enough.”

“How?” she asked, without looking at him.

“They had me take a few lessons before the shoot. It’s enough to get us there and back. I just figured you might be more of an expert.”

She turned to face him. “Because I’m from Maine.”

“Because you’re from Maine,” he agreed.

“Well, I’ve been driving Quinn’s ski boat for years,” she said. “But this looks pretty different.”

“We’ll figure it out then,” he said. “Between the two of us.”

“Between the two of us?” she said, and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“Well, mostly you.”

She held out a flattened palm, and he dropped the keys into her hand. “That was some pretty good acting the other day, then,” she told him, “because you looked like a regular sea captain out there.”

“Then you don’t need to worry,” he said, leading her back to the front of the boat. “If you’d seen my other movies, you’d know that I’m also a magician.”

–Uh-oh.

–What?

–I forgot my phone.

–So?

–So how am I supposed to e-mail you now?

–I guess we’ll just have to talk.

Chapter 20

Once they were out of the harbor—through the precarious maze of buoys and docks—Graham relaxed. The open water stretched out ahead of them, blue-green waves tipped in white, like some great confection coated with powdered sugar, and the thin line where the paler sky met the darker ocean with perfect symmetry. Everything shimmered under the gaze of the sun, and Graham closed his eyes against the wind and the spray of the wake on either side of the boat as they sliced through the water.

Beside him, Ellie stood with one hand on the wheel, moving it back and forth every so often, the tiniest of adjustments that went unfelt as the boat barreled ahead, leaving behind a trail of white foam. At first, they didn’t speak; the rush of the wind was too loud in their ears. But even without words, there was a complicity to the moment that felt louder than all the rest of it. Together, they had made their escape.

“See?” Graham shouted over the wind, and Ellie cocked her head in his direction. “You’re a pro.”

She shrugged. “Turns out it’s not all that different from a ski boat.”

The last time he’d been out here, Olivia had been the one at his side, and in between takes she’d brushed the flecks of water from her face and scowled. They had only two more days of filming left, and he knew she was excited to get back to L.A. For her, this was nothing but a time-out, an unwelcome break from her regular life, which consisted of photo-ops and fancy parties, manicures and meetings.