The Wrong Gentleman(16)
I found my cabin, my position written in neat black handwriting on a Post-it on the door, and dumped my bag. The room was more comfortable than I’d been expecting—only as wide as the built-in bunk beds and the walkway to the bathroom. It would be difficult for two people to be changing in here at one time. Training barracks were worse. There might have been a little more space in the army, but there was a hell of a lot less privacy. Sharing with just one person was a complete luxury. Hopefully my roommate wouldn’t end up being Skylar. That could be a real problem.
I glanced around and decided to take the bottom bunk—that way I could come and go more easily without my roommate noticing, if they were in bed. My next job was to stow the weapon Reynolds had provided. The room was small, but I was sure I could find a place. But I wasn’t expecting trouble. Not if I did my job properly and no one noticed what I was doing. After searching underneath the mattress and in the few built-in cupboards, I decided to tape the gun to the ceiling of the air conditioning duct. The vent cover came out without any trouble, and I put the miniature screwdriver under the mattress after I’d screwed it back on. Hopefully I wouldn’t need to use any kind of self-defense while I was on board.
I checked my watch. Twenty minutes still until I’d been told to arrive, and I was almost done. The next job was to sketch a map of the yacht, so I could make sure I knew all the places Williams could have a private conversation. Reynolds might not be looking for me to do anything other than observe, but I wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to listen in to some conversations if I got the chance.
Outside my door, someone cleared their throat. Was it Skylar? She seemed to be everywhere I was at the moment. Would she knock before she came in? I closed the notebook I’d been making notes and drawings in and stashed it under my pillow. This morning I’d been wondering if I’d been an idiot for not getting Skylar’s number and even thinking such a thing had irritated me. It wasn’t in my character to give any woman I was with a second thought. What was it about Skylar that had gotten under my skin? Last night had been confounding and inexplicable in a number of ways that my mind was still trying to work through. I was good at reading people, but Skylar wasn’t remotely easy to read. Confident and self-assured one minute yet demure and almost shy the next. Usually, I could see past a mask but with Skylar it wasn’t so much a mask as a layer of riddles she wore. I’d considered calling Harvey to get her number. It had been a long time since I’d even thought about a woman after a night together. Perhaps now that I’d sold my business, it would be possible for me to consider a relationship. Maybe I’d have time to focus. But not yet. If something was worth doing, it was worth doing well, and I was focused on the job for Reynolds this summer. Despite Skylar being beautiful with a fantastic body and exactly my type, there was no way I’d have followed through last night if I’d known I’d see her again, let alone be working with her for the summer while I was on an operation.
My case unpacked, I pulled out my laptop and opened up the encrypted folder of material that Reynolds had given me on the target. I’d studied the information, but it never hurt to remind myself of the details. So many things that seemed like they were superfluous in a file could turn out to be vital in the field.
This might not be a job that required anything more than information gathering and reporting, but the stakes were high. Lives depended on me staying focused and no one figuring out I was there to be anything but a junior deckhand.
I scrolled down the first document. The yacht owner was forty-three-year-old Walt Williams—the target. He was three generations rich but now the family business was more than just oil. International arms trading and money laundering were now at the heart of the Williams’ family fortune, with Walt at the head.
The more I studied the file, the more obvious it was that what I was doing here could have a real impact. I was helping to bring one of the bad guys down—save innocent lives. And even though I’d willingly sold my business, being part of an operation like that, however small a part, warmed my veins and drove me on. It was why I’d accepted the consultancy job at MI6 and not just retired a rich man.
A knock at my door had me flipping down the screen on my laptop.
“Come in,” I said, and Skylar poked her head around the door, first seeing me and then scanning the rest of the room. My eyes followed hers, wondering what she was looking for, and then I realized she was just anxious.
I refocused on Skylar, who smiled but it wasn’t a familiar grin. More like a nervous reaction. “Urm. Captain wants an all-crew meeting in an hour,” she said.
No doubt the captain would simply put a call out on the radio and wouldn’t expect Skylar to round people up. She’d wanted to speak to me, and I was going to help her out. “Come in. My roommate hasn’t arrived yet.”
Skylar smiled nervously. “I’m not sure—”
Her pretty features bore no evidence of our late night. In uniform, with barely any makeup, she no longer looked like a woman who’d be right at home as a guest on one of these yachts, but she was still self-assured, elegant, and beautiful.
“Or you could show me where I can do some ironing?” I grabbed a shirt from where it hung in my half of the wardrobe and held it up.
“Yes, good idea,” she said and spun around and headed out.
“Laundry room is by the kitchen, but the interior staff will do your ironing regardless of whether it’s your uniform.”