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“You want me to crew up theNancy?” Giorgio asks, jogging up behind me.
I turn around to see my best employee, Giorgio, with a worried look on his face. He is part chief operations officer, part chief technology officer, part mechanic. I don’t know what I would do without him.
“What are you talking about?” I ask as I come to a stop. The ocean continues trickling up the beach.
Giorgio pushes the heel of his hand through his thick, wavy hair. “Rocco. He says he’s out.”
“Out? As in… leaving?”
“Right. He wants to be taken back to his ship, I guess. What did you say to him?”
I weigh the possibilities. I could go back there and try again. I could move on. Who needs the hassle?
“Yeah, okay… That sounds fine. Take him where he wants to go.”
“Um, you sure about that?” Giorgio continues, squinting.
“He’s kind of a jerk,” I shrug. “Let him go.”
“He may be a jerk you need on board,” Giorgio answers wisely.
“Nah, there are always more jerks. We could just move onto the next one.”
Slowly he shakes his head, chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. “We are almost to the end of the list, Cal. You gotta get serious.”
“Serious? Me? I’m always serious!” I answer, kicking a spray of foam at his rolled-up pant cuffs.
As I turn away, I see him shrug in frustration, but what am I going to say? I can’t be chasing after guys like Rocco. That’s not my style. I would rather lose the deal than end up in bed with a guy like that forever. Besides, there are always more deals. That was my father’s motto. “There’s always next time.”
A quick jog on the beach will clear my head, and as I pick up speed, the rhythm of my heels hitting the hard, wet sand, conjoined with my breath, quickly calms me down.
Everything will be fine. This project was destined to happen. I can see it like it has already happened.
But when I get back to my office, really a top-floor suite I converted to an office with satellite Wi-Fi and a private infinity pool, I peer down to the dock where the crew is assembling. TheNancyis a fifty-five-foot yacht with a helipad. Rocco could just take the helicopter to his ship, where it currently idles just at the horizon in much deeper water. But no, he wants to take theNancyjust to make a point. He knows that was my mother’s boat. He knows that it’s a much longer trip and a much bigger pain in the ass than just starting up the chopper and flying it over. It’s sort of a passive-aggressive move.
Or maybe it’s a second chance. Maybe it is a stall tactic.
As I stare down toward the beach, I can make out his tubby figure, still dressed in an orange Speedo but now with a Hawaiian-print shirt loosely buttoned over his giant gut. He’s got a cigar notched between his fat fingers. He puffs on it slowly as he looks around.
My stomach twists as I realize what I need to do. I know full well that the last three names on the list are really just two names. Preston already backed out. I just didn’t let Giorgio know yet.
And Rocco is still on the island. If I let him leave, does the whole vision disappear with him? Will it all be over?
Holding my breath, I force myself to jog back down to the dock before I can really think it all through. I just have to do this. Even if I don’t like it.
“Oh, Cal,” Rocco wheezes, grinning as I come up the dock. “You forget something?”
He glances over my shoulder and I pivot to see Carmela and Anton bringing a champagne service as well as Rocco’s luggage.
Rocco’s eyebrows go up. His gaze slides up and down Carmela’s long, tanned limbs, his expression becoming slightly more optimistic.
“Hello again,” he says in an oily voice. “Now you? You would be worth staying for.”
Carmela smiles uncomfortably. “Champagne?” she murmurs.
I catch her eye, and she glances at me for a half second longer than usual. I suddenly realize that she has been on the island a lot longer than I have. She was here when the original resort opened. She has seen a lot more things than I have, and probably understands guys like Rocco a lot better than I do.
Purposely she steps around me, positioning herself between me and him.
