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My tie is choking me, and I tug it loose as I walk up the stairs to Alexis’s apartment. I frown at the haphazard entry. It’s really not safe for her to be living like this. I’ll have to do something about it, even if she insists on staying to save her extra money. The flight back from Miami hadn’t been enough to quell my anxieties about the day. I was awkward and terrible in the boardroom, and I’m sure everyone saw me for the fraud I am. The board is still displeased with my own wage cut, concerned that they may eventually have to make their own sacrifices. Gary followed my lead and chose to cut his own pay for the good of the company, and now everyone is on edge.
I raise my hand to knock, but the door springs open before I can, smoke pouring out. I tense and search for a fire, ready to whisk her away from danger, but there’s nothing to see.
Coughing, Alexis waves a baking sheet in the air to try and get rid of some smoke. When she notices me, her eyes widen, and her face goes beet red. “James,” she says, surprised at my appearance for some reason.
With my name on her lips, the tension of my day relaxes. I pull her toward me, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. She smiles against me, then pulls away before we can get too lost in each other.
“My oven seems to be broken,” she says, gesturing toward the kitchen through the hazy smoke.
I wrap our fingers together and pull her hand up to my chest, right against my heart. “It’s alright,” I say. “We can go out.”
I was looking forward to a private dinner, but there’s no way we’ll be able to eat here with her entire apartment airing out. She frowns and looks at the grated metal step below us. “I don’t want to spend your money.”
A pang runs through my chest, and I recall that she was stuck in the resort for nearly two weeks without any sort of pay. Even with her raise, she hasn’t gotten her first check to show just how different her life will be. I don’t think I could ever understand how to deal with that type of situation, as I’ve never had to go without money. The fact that she’s worried about me spending anything is ridiculous, and I lift her chin with my finger so she has to look at me.
“Alexis,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady, “I am happy to buy you dinner.”
She gives a weak smile, and I realize that isn’t her only fear. The last time we went out in public together, her face ended up on international news. She may have signed the paperwork this morning, but that doesn’t mean I should subject her to the press so soon, or ever. They’ve only just stopped looking our way, and I can’t throw them right back at her. Not when things are going so well.
“I have an idea,” I say. “I promise nobody will bother us.”
She grimaces. “Don’t buy a restaurant just so we can eat in peace.”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, nothing like that.” Although the thought has crossed my mind in the past, I know that spending money on Alexis makes her uncomfortable.
I send Camilla a quick text asking if the necessary supplies are prepared, then lead Alexis to my car. Instead of the nondescript Toyota that had apparently been too nice for my position as a dishwasher, I hold her hand as she climbs into the white Mercedes G-Wagon, a boxy SUV with only the finest luxuries installed. I bought it the day I came to Key West, and then I didn’t drive it for fear of Alexis catching me with it.
When I get into the driver’s seat, she bunches her hands in her lap. A nervous smile plays at her features. “I’m afraid to touch anything. It’s too new.”
I shake my head. I guess I still don’t quite understand. “It’s just a car. Go nuts.”
She runs a delicate hand along the leather seat, and her other hand goes toward the touch screen. She scrolls through the different features until she finds the control for the LEDs, and her eyes widen when she’s able to change the colors lighting the interior. “This is awesome,” she breathes with a small, breathy laugh. My heart warms. She may not want me to buy her anything, but she does enjoy the finer things I could provide if that’s something she would ever allow.
I pull out of the lot, driving toward the marina. I wanted to save this surprise for a special occasion, and now seems as good a time as any. It’s the first time we get to go on an actual date, rather than just hiding out in my hotel room.
“Did you buy a boat for this date?” she asks, her tone grim.
Does she not like boats? Maybe I should just take her back to the hotel and eat there like we’ve been doing. Carefully, I say, “I already had a boat, but I did pay someone to sail it down from Miami last week.”
She sighs, and the sudden tension floods out of her. Note to self: Don’t buy extravagant things to impress her, because it will only make her anxious. I already know to not buy her anything, but the loophole closure is a bit more restricting. I want to do nice things for her, spend my money making her happy.
“Well, that sounds nice,” she says.
I go to help her out of the car, but she doesn’t give me the chance to open the door. Instead, she meets me at the front, and I lock it. She twines her hand with mine, and I’m tempted to kiss her until she can’t remember why we were here. When her stomach lets out a little rumble, though, I know that I should feed her first. Then we can make out.
I lead her up the dock, which doesn’t move. The water is calm tonight, and she glances at every sailboat we pass.
When we reach my fifty foot catamaran at the end of the dock, she freezes, her eyes wide. “James, that’s not a boat, it’s a yacht.”
I’m not sure what makes a boat not a yacht, but I tug her toward me a little. “It is,” I admit, although it shouldn’t matter. They’re all boats, mine just happens to be a bit bigger.
Okay, a lot bigger, but I can’t change that now unless I buy another boat, which seems worse based on her reactions to my wealth.
I take her across the gangplank, a sturdy metal and wooden thing with rails to protect us on either side. When we make it to the deck, I go directly to the helm and start the engine. It starts up smoothly, and I smile at the sound of it in the otherwise quiet marina.
“You don’t have a captain or something?” she asks, even more nervous than before.
I laugh. “Do you want me to spend money or not?” Then, I soften my expression. She must be afraid that I have no idea what I’m doing. “I’ve been sailing since I was a kid. Besides, we aren’t going far. We won’t even be lifting the sails tonight.”
