Lindsay opened the freezer and produced a tub. "Chocolate it is. Sprinkles? Sauce? Wafer?"
Bea looked at Dani, then back at Lindsay, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Am I allowed all of them?"
"Pig attack victims get the full treatment," Lindsay said. "It's yacht policy."
Dani set Bea in the nook at the galley table while Lindsay built an architectural feat in a bowl—three scoops, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, two wafers, and a strawberry on top. She dusted the whole thing with edible glitter, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a small paper umbrella and a sparkly unicorn cake topper. She stuck both into the top scoop and set it in front of Bea with a wink.
Bea stared at it. For a second Dani thought she was going to cry again. But then she whispered, "That's so pretty." She picked up the spoon and got to work. Lindsay grinned at Dani and mouthedyou're welcome.
"Dani?" Bea asked through a mouthful.
"Yes?"
"Do pigs really not eat kids?"
"They really don't."
Bea considered this while licking chocolate sauce off the back of her spoon. "What about big pigs? Like the size of a car?"
"There are no pigs the size of a car."
She looked up at Dani with an expression of deep skepticism, as though Dani was either lying or uninformed. There was chocolate sauce on her chin and sprinkles stuck to both cheeks. "Tyler said there are. And they hide under water."
"Tyler's just messing with you, sweetie."
Dani turned to Lindsay because she might as well get this over with while she was here. "So I had an interesting conversation with the captain last night."
Lindsay's face fell. "God, Dani. I'm so sorry. I feel terrible. We never thought she'd hear us—we were just being idiots, and I know it put you in an awful position. Rei feels bad too. We both do."
"You should feel bad. I had to sit there while she told me, to my face, that the crew thinks we're..." Dani stopped herself, aware that Bea was next to her. "You know." She sighed as she watched Bea eat. The robe had slipped off one shoulder, and the unicorn cake topper was clutched in her free hand like a trophy. She was humming something between bites—quiet, tuneless, completely absorbed.Must be nice, being five.One bowl of ice cream and everything was forgotten.
10
JORDAN
The guests had retired an hour ago and the foredeck was empty. Jordan came up here sometimes, late at night, when she needed to think.
They were anchored in the lee of a small cay just south of Staniel, close enough to see the lights of the harbor across the water but far enough for quiet. The evening was warm and still. Above her was the kind of star-filled sky you only got when the nearest city was a hundred miles away, and the water lapped against the hull in a soothing rhythm.
She sat on the sunpad and pulled her knees up, wondering if Dani was asleep yet. Sure, she was avoiding her. She knew that was silly, but she didn't know what else to do.
The problem was that every time she saw Dani now, she was aware of her in a way she hadn't been three days ago. Or rather, in a way she'd spent years pretending she wasn't. And she suspected Dani knew. Worse, she was pretty sure it was mutual.
Dani's presence made her feel unmoored, and the last time she'd felt anything close to this, it had cost her everything. She pushed that thought away, but not before the familiar sting landed. Some lessons you only needed to learn once, and she'dlearned hers. By the time she'd found her feet again, years had passed.
And then she'd bought theMaiden Voyage. Her vessel, her rules. She had a crew she trusted and she'd built something she was proud of. It was a life of calm and she didn't like that calm being threatened by messy feelings. Feelings that had been perfectly manageable when Dani was two decks below her, and were considerably less manageable now that Dani was three feet away every night.
Dani was the reason their charters worked. She was the reason guests came back, the reason Jordan could stay on the bridge and do her job without worrying about what was happening below deck. She managed the staff and the freelancers, handled the complaints, smoothed over the disasters. She was the buffer between Jordan and the part of this job she was worst at. If something started between them and then fell apart, Jordan wouldn't just lose her. She'd lose the thing that held this entire operation together.
She stayed until her back was stiff and the breeze off the water had turned cool, thoughts coming and going. Then she headed inside, walking quietly through the corridor, hoping Dani would be asleep.
Dani was standing in the room in her underwear and a tank top, blow-drying her hair. She saw Jordan and froze.
"Sorry—" Jordan pulled the door shut and stood in the corridor, staring at the opposite wall.
The blow-dryer stopped, the door opened, and Dani stuck her head out.
"Jordan, please don't stand out there avoiding your own cabin. I'm done." She opened the door wider. "I can put more clothes on if you need me to?—"
