The Wrong Gentleman(50)
I laughed. “As if.” I eyed the contract beside me. If I signed, which of course I would, the next three years of my life were planned out. My money was guaranteed. I’d have food and a roof over my head. That was all I wanted, wasn’t it? “What on earth would I do?” I wasn’t the sort of person who got to choose. I’d never been pulled toward something I wanted. I’d been running from what I didn’t.
“I think about it all the time,” August said, abandoning her towel and pulling on the rest of her clothes. “I just can’t come up with an answer. The day I figure it out is the day I hand in my notice.” She flicked back her wet hair and grabbed a comb. “Until then, I can cope with the good money and the beautiful weather.”
“You think you’d give it all up that easily?”
“If I found the thing I was meant to do. Or if I was to get pregnant—or even find a relationship that was worth it.”
Pregnant? I’d never considered that as a possibility. If I had a choice, would I choose children? A family? I didn’t think about any of this stuff. I reacted to things that happened around me. The only planning I did was to put away money. Every dollar that sat in my bank account was an insurance policy against the bad times. A salve. “Is Harvey worth it?”
August shrugged as she applied mascara. “I like him, but he lives in England and I’m between the Med and the Caribbean. It’s not like the stars are aligned.”
“He might get a permanent job as yacht security or something.”
“I’m not holding my breath, but you never know. What about Landon? I’m glad you’ve found someone. He’s a great guy—you are a great match.”
Prickly warmth spread across my skin. Landon was a great guy. But I knew he was only in my life for the summer, and there was no point in thinking about a future together. “Landon’s Mr. Right Now. I keep telling you, it’s nothing serious. You know I’m focused on my job.”
“The one you don’t like.” She pushed the comb through her wet hair and then stared at me. “As a kid, what did you want to do?”
It was the same question Landon had asked me. “I’m not sure.” Except that I did know, but I knew it was impossible to go backward.
But I wanted to know how impossible. I pulled my laptop out of my locker by my bed and lifted the screen. Cross-legged, I fired it up and began to investigate.
Twenty-Eight
Landon
None of us were particularly busy without any guests still on board and finding a quiet corner to call Reynolds was more difficult when people didn’t have jobs to do and places to be. I’d locked myself in my cabin bathroom and turned on the shower as I punched in Reynolds’ number to my phone.
“Another number?” he asked.
“I have no update,” I replied, ignoring his observation.
“The target will be back on board tomorrow.”
I hadn’t been expecting that. “Okay, anything I need to know?”
“Things are escalating. My client wants to interrupt any trade before it’s made but needs the deal to be sufficiently advanced to bring prosecutions. So our job is to try to collate as much compelling evidence as possible.”
“Understood. I can do a sweep of his room, if that’s helpful?” I’d checked out Walt’s room before but found nothing.
“Absolutely not. As things are progressing, the target is getting more serious about security. We have information that he suspects he’s being watched, and anyway, he’d be an idiot not to assume he is and act accordingly.”
The first thing I’d do in his situation would be background check everyone on my payroll, including the crew of the Sapphire. I’d also hire some counter-surveillance specialists to check out my homes, offices—and my yacht. “Well, Landon James’ background is clear.”
“And if they discover it’s an alias?”
“It looks like I had a drunk-driving arrest and changed it shortly after.”
“Good. We know he’s done background checks on his staff in his office, including fingerprinting. He’s starting to act like he has something to hide.”
“I’ll be sure to let you know who comes aboard tomorrow,” I said.
“The client was very impressed with the information you got from the restaurant. It’s just a pity we didn’t have confirmation from that stewardess of who was actually around the table.”
“You didn’t need it. You had the photographs, and I’m sure they could identify the people they suspected were going to attend the dinner. And confirmation from one of the restaurant staff would be easy to get if you told me which individuals your client thinks attended,” I said. “There was no need to have gotten anyone else involved.”
“That may be the case, but we’re going to need the stewardess’ help.”
My heart began to thunder. That was never going to happen.
“It’s unnecessary. I’ve got it covered.”
“Why are you so reluctant to get the job done? Skylar could really help put this guy behind bars.”
I froze. I’d never told Reynolds her name. He must have been looking into her. “I’m not reluctant. Bringing a civilian inside is always a cost-benefit analysis. I don’t think she’d be sufficiently helpful to make it worth it.” What did Reynolds want her to do? Wear a wire? At the very least, she’d end up a witness in the trial of a very dangerous man. Worst-case scenario? Well, it wasn’t worth thinking about.