Page 91 of A Perfect Disaster

The boss tilts her head, her curiosity piqued.

“May I ask why?”

I clench my hands until they hurt.

“Because she has more pride than a peacock and would never accept it. I don’t want her to feel like I’ve given her the position out of charity, or that our relationship starts with a debt of this magnitude on her record. She’s got enough baggage to deal with already.”

Julianne looks at me in a completely different way. I think she’s even been moved by my romantic moment.

“I beg you not to tell her that I was the one who stepped aside,” I add, and that “please” costs me a fortune because I’d hate to appear vulnerable in front of my superiors.

“Helen…”

“Please,” I insist, giving her puppy-dog eyes beneath my usual seriousness. “Make up whatever you want. Say the process has been canceled, that you’re looking for a different profile—whatever fits your script. But don’t let her find out about my resignation.”

“That’s a ticking time bomb, Helen. If she finds out from someone else, she’ll feel completely betrayed,” she warns me, quite rightly.

“I’ll take the risk.”

Julianne looks down at her tablet, deep in thought. I sit there holding my breath, my heart racing, with the strange feeling that I’m signing my own death warrant.

“Just because we accept your resignation doesn’t mean Maika has the job guaranteed,” she finally clarifies.

“I understand that perfectly. And I’m very grateful to you.”

“Helen, I still think you would have been a superb leader for this company.”

“That may be true, but right now my priorities have changed.” I stand up before the tears start to fall, because keeping my composure is starting to feel like an impossible task. “I just want her to have less weight on her shoulders.”

“The position on land is a snake pit. And I remind you that leadership skills aren’t learned from books. But it’s your choice, and I respect it.”

I nod and rush out of the office. The officers’ corridor greets me, and I walk back toward the crew quarters on autopilot. I did the right thing. Yes, I’m almost certain of it. The problem is that doing the right thing sometimes leaves you feeling emptier than a cruise ship buffet at eleven at night.

· · ·

As I pass by the main restaurant’s kitchens, the bustle hits me hard. Life on board goes on as usual. The ship moves forward, and the world doesn’t stop for anyone. And I, on the other hand, feel like I’ve left half my life behind.

Gonzalo steps in front of me before I can hide in my cabin, and the moment he locks eyes with me, I know I’m done for.

“Oh my God. What’s with that face? You look like you’ve seen the ghost of the Titanic.”

I look around for an escape route, but I don’t see Maika anywhere. She must be on the upper deck organizing the closing dance, with no clue that I’ve just blown up the game board behind her back.

“I spoke with Julianne,” I blurt out to Gonzalo without warning. I don’t know how to soften the blow, so I just let it all out. “I’ve withdrawn my candidacy.”

Gonzalo’s smile vanishes instantly, and his jaw drops.

“Tell me this is one of your jokes, because it’s not fucking funny.”

“Well, no, it’s done.”

“What do you mean, it’s done?” he insists, his eyes wide, grabbing my arm to drag me into the crew service corridor, away from the passengers’ gaze. “Have you lost your mind or something?”

Gonzalo looks at me as if I’d told him I’d thrown the lifeboats overboard.

“It was my career and my decision,” I reply.

“Does Maika know?”