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“Your face did.”
“My face said nothing. You haven’t been out drinking for a while, have you?”
“Are you kidding? I’m a nurse. I work absurd hours. I don’t have time to drink. I never drink.” Until that wine last night. And these drinks now. The precedents I was setting on this trip were not making for healthy choices.
“So you got drunk on your first two drinks and this third one is going to make it so I have to carry you to the subway, isn’t it?”
“You don’t have to carry me. Josh can carry me. Haven’t you heard? He isanxiousto spend time with me, but he needs to take a number at the deli counter and get in line. Because Tanner wants to carry memore. Josh can carry you.”
“Okay, okay,” Isla was saying as she led me back to my crate. “We’ll get Tanner to carry you. Just sit here while I take some pictures. I have an idea for a portrait I’m going to do of Lady Liberty as a sort of a female Poseidon kind of thing. Sit here. Don’t move. Be good.”
“I’ll be good,” I promised. I was always good. And I wasn’t drunk. Sure, I knew I was a bit tipsy, and it had been a while since I’d knocked back a few cocktails, but I was in full use of my faculties. I got out my cell phone and, after only minimal hitting of wrong buttons, I was able to pull up the text I’d gotten from Josh. I huffed again at his message about wanting to catch up. If he’d really wanted to catch up, we’d already be caught. My fingers stabbed the phone screen.
Carry Isla
I typed it out. There. Clear and succinct and not at all like someone who still had a thing for him. He should just read it and do what he needs to do. Which is to carry Isla.
The phone rang in my hand, and I jumped in surprise and dropped it. I picked it back up and wiped off some invisible dirt. Which accidentally answered the call.
“Hello?” I said, pressing the phone to my head, completely baffled that someone would be calling me.
“Margot.”
The low sound of Josh’s voice floated into my ear and made a warm flush steal through the length of my body. “No. You have the wrong number,” I told him.
A deep chuckle. “Margot. What was that text about?”
“You’re so—I don’t know what you are. You just think every text in the world is all about you.”
“Well, you did send it to me.”
“You’re thinking way too much of yourself if you think I’d bother to text you from my pirate ship.”
“Your pirate ship? Margot, are you drunk? Your words are kind of garbled. Are you okay? Is Isla there? Do you need me to come and get you?”
He asked questions far faster than I could answer them. “I’m fine. I’ve always been fine without you, Josh. So you can carry Isla, and I’m going to walk the plank.”
“Don’t you dare.” There was panic in his voice, but the call disconnected.
I shrugged, glad the conversation with Josh was over, and I didn’t have to deal with his weird, misplaced intensity any longer. I moved to put my phone back in my pocket, and on my third try, I succeeded. There was a slapping of feet on the deck and Isla came rushing to my side, her phone pressed tight to her ear.
“It’s okay, Josh.” A pause. “No, she’s sitting right here. I have a hand on her.” Isla put her hand on my arm. “No, there isn’t a plank. It’s just what she’s been calling the side of the boat.” A pause as she listened. “No, she’s fine. There’s no question of alcohol poisoning. She’s not that far gone. It really does look like a pirate ship.” Another pause. “Yes, we’ll drink plenty of water, and we’ll walk around a lot.”
After several more assurances, Isla finally succeeded in hanging up from Josh.
“Oh, that guy! What a pain!” I threw my arm over my head and leaned against the hard wall of the ship. “I don’t care about him at all. Like, not even the tiniest bit.”
Isla tucked her phone away. “No, you don’t care about him. And you never have.”
For once she was agreeing with me. Fantastic. “And he doesn’t care about me. That’s the way life should be.”
She did a weird thing with her mouth that looked kind of like a grimace and kind of like a string of expletives would follow. “No. You’re right. He doesn’t care about you either.”
Chapter Nine
Isobered up fast. For one thing, I was not drunk. Only tipsy. For another thing, Isla made me drink a gallon of water, and we spent an hour and a half walking around before taking the train. I’d hoped to get to Tanner’s window display before it closed at noon, and Isla and I ran for Bainbridge’s, but we were too late—the curtain had already been pulled shut.
“I’m so sorry,” Isla said. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have dragged you out this morning knowing you wanted to be back in time for this.”
