Page 26 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

“Gabriella De Luca,” I said.

He picked up the paper and raised a brow. “Impressive.” Smacking his lips, he looked at me and said, “You’re the first one with experience working on yachts.”

“I am?” The words slipped out forming a question instead of an answer. My eyes widened, and I quickly cleared my throat when his eyebrows lifted.

“I am.”

“Wonderful.” He set the paper down. “We’re looking for someone with experience. We have a small staff of six because this yacht can only accommodate groups of eight, and we have clients who’ll be using it for a week while sailing across the Mediterranean.”

I nodded.

I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t want to be here, and I definitely didn’t want a job that would sail me away, not when I wanted to stay and wait for Gianni.

“Okay,” he said. “Now, about the pay.”

He lowered his gaze to the paper and wrote down the amount, adding a few more zeros than I expected.

I blinked twice. My hand flew to my eyes, rubbing them to make sure my sight wasn’t deceiving me.

Three thousand euros per week.

It was more than I earned in four months working at the local bakery, cleaning bars, and scrubbing holiday rentals after tourists had left them behind.

If I accepted this, I’d finally have enough money to leave home.

Fear pulled me one way, and need pulled me the other.

“I’m sorry,” I said, apologizing for nothing. “If I may ask… do we have to stay on the yacht all the time?”

“Working hours are on the yacht. You’d clean the rooms and the deck every morning, and your afternoons would be free. The yacht will stop at whichever islands and towns the clients choose. Once we dock, you’ll have free time on land to spend however you like.”

“And when do you sail?” I asked, swallowing hard as he looked at me.

“Tomorrow.”

I swallowed again. This time, my stomach turned inside out.

“Can I think about it?” I asked.

He laughed. “Miss De Luca, you either want this job or you don’t. We have plenty of candidates waiting to be interviewed, and we have to decide tonight who’ll be sailing with us tomorrow.”

“I understand.”

I stood up, but my knees betrayed me. Even though the yacht was perfectly still, the world tilted beneath my feet. I lurched forward, catching myself on the table.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” I raised my hands with a shaky smile, my face somehow turning even paler.

I’m not okay. I’m not okay.

He walked me out, and the moment I stepped onto the dock, he turned to greet the next candidate.

I barely made it two steps before I doubled over, vomiting onto the cold stone beneath me.

Isabella rushed over. “What happened?”

She dug a tissue out of her oversized purse and handed it to me. I took it, wiping my mouth slowly before crushing the damp paper in my fist. When I finally looked up at her, I let out a weak laugh.

“Let’s just say you lied so well they actually considered me a good candidate.”