Page 31 of Fake it for Keeps

11

COLT

“Mr. Jesson, I really need to stress that the weather forecast isn’t looking too good.”

“And that’s something I’m paying you to handle,” I cut off the captain, my patience already wearing thin. We’d been having this conversation for the past ten minutes, and I was done with it. “We’re sailing to Shelter Island. Today. As planned.”

Captain Morrison was a seasoned sailor who’d been working for my family for years. I trusted his abilities. I understood his need to cover his ass and err on the side of caution. He was clearly uncomfortable.

I didn’t care.

“Sir, with all due respect, there’s a winter storm system moving in. The waters could get rough by tomorrow evening.”

“Then we’ll be docked at Shelter Island before tomorrow evening,” I said flatly. “Problem solved.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Actually, it is.” I straightened to my full height, using every inch of intimidation I’d inherited from my father. “I’m paying you, what, two hundred thousand a year? Plus benefits? To operate this yacht and take me where I want to go, when I want to go there?”

“Yes, sir, but⁠—”

“No buts.” I gestured toward the helm. “My money is what makes it guaranteed. We’re sailing. Today. Get the crew ready.”

Morrison’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He walked away, already barking orders to the crew. I felt a surge of satisfaction. This was what I paid for. Not excuses. Not hedging. Results.

“You know, one of these days someone’s going to push you overboard.”

I turned to find Hallie standing behind me, a life vest in her hands. She looked good in the outfit Frankie had picked out for her. Really good. But maybe too much like something my mom would wear. I knew Frankie had picked out several outfits for her to wear on the trip. I hoped they weren’t all like the one she had on.

Hallie’s dark hair whipped in the wind as she glared at me. I could see her debating whether she should say what was on her mind.

It amused me.

She tossed the life vest at me. I caught it reflexively and scowled. “What’s this for?”

“For when your ego capsizes,” she said sweetly.

Despite myself, I laughed. “My ego is unsinkable.”

“Like the Titanic?”

“Cute.” I tossed the vest back to one of the crew members. “But unnecessary. I know what I’m doing.”

“So you keep saying.” She crossed her arms, studying me with dark eyes that always seemed to see more than I wanted them to. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re bullying your staff into doing something potentially dangerous just because you can’t handle not getting your way. Like a toddler.”

My amusement evaporated. “I’m not bullying anyone. I’m running my yacht with my crew, who I pay very well to do exactly what I tell them to do.”

“Right. Because money solves everything. What a charming outlook on life.”

“It solves most things,” I countered. “And in this case, it means we’re sailing to Shelter Island to celebrate our engagement like we planned. Unless you’d rather stay docked here? I’m sure the press would love that story.”

She glared at me again. I could practically see her weighing her options. The contract. The money. The fact that she’d already cashed the first check.

“Fine,” she said finally. “But if we sink, I’m using you as a flotation device.”

“Deal.”