The Wrong Gentleman(27)

I wouldn’t end up like my mother. I didn’t want her life or her death. And so I had to shake off the thoughts of Landon, the feel of him, the way I liked being with him. I wouldn’t be a victim of love or passion—the things that had killed my mother. That wasn’t my future.





Sixteen





Skylar


The sun was creeping up in the sky as if it were slowly stretching and opening its eyes, and the water was completely still, like ice on a lake. The hustle and bustle of the day on the Med hadn’t yet begun. It felt as if I was the only person in the world who was awake, and it was a beautiful morning, which was precisely why I didn’t mind the early shift.

Best of all, it was quiet. Apart from whoever was on the bridge, no one else was up. No clatter of pans from the galley, no laughing guests, no announcements over the radio. I glanced at my watch. The peace wouldn’t last more than another ten minutes, but it would keep me going for the rest of the day.

I moved around the galley, setting up a tray of coffee cups and juice glasses. Walt would be awake soon enough, and I wanted to make sure I had everything ready for him.

Just a few minutes later, he plodded onto the main sundeck in his long white robe and sunglasses, took a seat at the dining table, and unfolded a copy of the New York Times I’d left out for him when I’d set his place just a few minutes earlier.

I’d call that perfect timing.

I filled a cafetiere with hot, black coffee and placed a plain croissant on a side plate. That was the way Walt liked to start every morning. He was a creature of habit, which worked for me. It made it easier to work out what he liked and what he didn’t, which made it easier to please him. And that made it more likely that he’d tip well.

I lifted the tray and headed outside.

“Good morning, sir,” I said.

Walt put his paper down and pushed his sunglasses over his head. “A beautiful morning made all the more lovely by seeing you,” he replied.

I grinned. He was such a nice guy. The more I interacted with him, the more I liked him. “Your coffee, juice, and croissant.” I set everything down in front of him, unfolded the napkin, and placed it on his lap.

“You do think of everything, Skylar.”

“It’s my complete pleasure.”

“I was hoping you could arrange for a dinner off the boat this evening.”

“Absolutely. A beach picnic or—”

“No, I want to go to Alain Ducasse at l’H?tel de Paris.”

My heart sank. It was the best restaurant in Monaco, perhaps in the South of France, and it booked up months in advance. Walt had money, but so did everyone dining there. I wasn’t sure if I could get a big table at short notice.

“I’ll see if I can arrange that right away. For six people? What time were you thinking?”

“Eight o’clock sounds about right, but I’ll need a table of ten.”

My shoulders dropped. He’d set me an almost-impossible task, but it was impossible tasks that created an opportunity for a big tip. “I’ll tell Chef and arrange for you to leave the yacht around seven thirty, if that works?”

“I know it’s short notice, but it’s important, Skylar. A private room would be preferable,” Walt said, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s a social event with important business contacts, so we’d like to be able to speak freely. And I’d like you to join us if you’re free?”

My skin flashed cold. He’d dropped that last request in so seamlessly that I barely registered what he was saying. “You want me to come to dinner?”

“You shouldn’t feel obliged, but it’s a beautiful restaurant, and the wives and girlfriends of my associates will also be joining. Like I said, it’s a social evening. Hopefully we can share some lovely food, great wine, and wonderful conversation.”

Walt had been a little flirtatious, but not overly so, and I certainly hadn’t expected a dinner invitation today. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but in yachting, no one said no to a guest.

I smiled widely. “I can’t think of a better way to spend an evening.” Frankly, I’d much rather give myself the pedicure I’d been promising myself. Would I have to fend off his unwanted advances? I was all about the tips, but there was a line in the sand. There were no sexual services available on board the Sapphire.

Voices in the saloon drew my attention, and all five of Walt’s guests came through the sliding doors and out onto the deck.

“Good morning,” I greeted everyone. “Can I get you all what you usually have or would anyone like something different?”

“Let’s start with the usual and then see if your chef can surprise us,” Walt said.

“Absolutely.” Perhaps if I talked to the captain, he would step in and deem Walt taking me to dinner inappropriate. Even if it was a business dinner.

I headed back to the galley. I’d have to get coffee, juice, and pastries out immediately and think about Walt’s request later.

“Morning, beautiful,” Anton called out from where he was peering into the fridge.

“Did you even know it was me?” I asked.

“Of course. You have delicate footsteps. Unlike August.”

I giggled. We all teased August about her Bigfoot impressions.