The Wrong Gentleman(19)

This had to be about more than an oil deal.

I missed their next exchange. The next voice I heard clearly was Walt’s. “But Vivian is on a job at the moment. Won’t be around the next couple of weeks.”

“You just need to find yourself a date. But that’s not going to be a problem. Not for a man with a yacht like this,” Bob said as he and Walt chuckled.

“Jesus, she’s beautiful,” Bob said as Skylar appeared at the top of the spiral staircase with a tray of drinks.

Bloody hell. We were just getting to the good bit and now Skylar was interrupting. Bob and Walt were bound to clam up before I got to hear which Thursday they were talking about or who they were going to meet. I checked my watch. My shift was about to start, and I didn’t want to be late.

“Fucking right,” Walt agreed.

I took a few steps to my left so I could see better.

“Gentleman, I brought you some champagne,” Skylar announced as she approached the hot tub. “And some nuts.” She set the tray down beside the bubbling water and handed out the glasses. Walt checked out her arse as she handed Bob his drink. Fucking idiot.

“Would you like to join us?” Walt asked. “The water’s beautiful.”

“I’m afraid I have to make sure your lunch is on track and order some more of your favorite Cognac. I want to make sure everything’s perfect for you.”

Walt grinned.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

A horn from one of the nearby boats sounded and she glanced in my direction, catching me watching. She didn’t react, just turned back to Walt.

“I don’t think so, darlin’. Not unless you’re ready to hop in with us,” Walt said.

“You’re out of fresh towels. I’ll send some up,” Skylar said without missing a beat. She was keeping it professional—good for her.

I tossed my apple core overboard and headed to where the fresh towels were stowed for the hot tub toward the aft deck. It wasn’t my job, and I wasn’t on shift, but it meant one less job for Skylar. From what I’d seen since we started, Skylar was incredibly diligent and hard working.

After distributing the towels, I headed down to the galley to begin my shift, which normally started with me emptying the bins in the kitchen. The fact that I hadn’t emptied a bin in years made me grin to myself. Reynolds had been right—a summer with nothing to do wouldn’t have suited me. And I’d never minded physical work. Being a deckhand was actually fun. There was a lot to do, and I was learning new stuff, but nothing was particularly difficult.

Skylar was at the sink when I pulled out the rubbish.

“Why were you up on the top deck? You shouldn’t be listening to guests’ conversations,” she said.

“I wasn’t listening to anything. I was enjoying the view and eating an apple,” I said, feigning ignorance.

She fixed me with a stare that told me she wasn’t buying it.

“And I already took them their towels, so no need to ask anyone else to do it.”

“Thanks. But you could get fired if you’re a nosey parker.”

Was she looking out for me or just making sure that guest privacy was respected? “Thanks for the warning, but those guys don’t have anything to say that I want to hear.” I tied off the first bag and started on the recycling.

Skylar was perceptive. I just hoped I’d planted enough doubt in her head that she didn’t give my being on top deck a second thought again. I needed to fly under the radar and get this job done.





Eleven





Skylar


“Anything you need from shore?” Peter, the bosun, asked as he stuck his head around the crew mess door.

“You’re going ashore?” I checked my watch. “Tell me they’re not going out to dinner.” It was just after six and Chef had already done all the preparation. Why would he be taking guests to shore now?

“No, I’m picking someone up.”

I stood. “No one told me. Are they staying over? Do I need to refresh a room? Who is it?”

Peter shrugged. “Friend of the owner, apparently. Captain asked me to get them, but I’m not sure of the arrangements. Can I collect anything for you?”

“Not for me. You should ask Chef, though. And you should tell him that he has another mouth to feed as well. Actually, no. I’ll tell him. I have to go up and find the captain anyway. He didn’t say anything about a preference sheet when he spoke to you, did he?”

“Nothing. I got the impression that he’d only just found out himself.”

I straightened my skirt and headed upstairs.

“Chef, do you know anything about this new guest?” I asked as I entered the kitchen and August came in with an empty tray of champagne glasses.

“You’re not on for another thirty minutes,” August replied.

“Change of plans. We have a new guest coming on board and I have no idea who it is,” I replied. “I’m going to speak to the captain and then we need to check over the empty cabins.” I hated to be caught off guard. I should have checked those cabins since charter started.

“Are they coming to dinner? And will they stay?” Chef Anton asked.

“I have no idea. Radio Peter if you want anything from shore. I’m going to the bridge to find the captain and as soon as I catch a clue, I’ll be back.”