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I wasn’t worried about falling off the boat so much as being on it. I loved swimming and had even been on my high school swim team. I’d never won a race, but that was beside the point. Still, I strapped on the vest, which barely fit over my coat. Swimming in a temperature-controlled pool was vastly different from being thrown from a boat into freezing water in the dark and being forced to swim for my life. Were there sharks in the winter? I’d never thought about it, but I’d also never been foolish enough to get on a boat after puking my guts out on my second-grade whale-watching field trip.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I sat on the bench and shoved my bag under the seat, noticing too late the black goo on the floor of the boat.Ugh.I hoped those weren’t fish guts, but the odds probably weren’t in my favor.
Forget about fish guts and remember the big fat bonus that awaits if you get the job done, not to mention the look on Bennett’s face when he realizes you beat him. Time to work.
“So, Mr. Abernathy, what are you after today?”
“Red Drum if we’re lucky.” He grinned at me. “Here we go.” He guided the boat away from the dock and out into the open ocean.
I tasted my lunch in my mouth and swallowed thickly.Oh God.This was a bad idea. I wassooonot a badass at this moment, and I didn’t give a shit. I’d settle for not wearing my own vomit. Flashbacks of being called Green Gills Claire for the rest of my second-grade year sprang to mind.
As we sped through the waves, I held on for dear life, trying to relax my muscles and failing miserably. My tailbone slammed into the hard plastic with every wave we hit. My ass was going to have bruises.
Stop worrying about your ass.We hit a particularly big wave. Yelping, I flew a foot into the air. I scrambled to grab hold of something and got twisted around, banging my knees on the larger cooler opposite me.Add bruised knees to the list.I had a feeling that by the time all was said and done, I’d have to add bruised ego as well. By sheer force of will, I survived the journey and only had to swallow back my puke twice.Victory.
Once Mr. Abernathy anchored the boat, my stomach settled from feeling like there was a hurricane in it to a mild queasiness.Thank God.At least my brain could function properly again. I flexed my fingers, which were stiff from gripping the railing.
Mr. Abernathy fished around in his bait supply and came up with a tiny fish. He held it up. “Do you want to do the honors?”
Grimacing, I took a step back to get away from the bait. Not smart considering the size of the boat. I was lucky the move hadn’t pitched me overboard, but I feared the stench of the bait might wind up being the final push my stomach needed to give up the fight.
He eyed me. “You’re not squeamish, are you?”
I suddenly understood that his wanting me to come on his boat was indeed some sort of test. Thank goodness he’d been too focused on the water to notice me during the trip out here, or I would have already failed.
“Not generally,” I said. “I can assist if you need a hand.”
He blew out a breath. “Shoot, no. But if you don’t bait it, you don’t get to eat it. That’s what my daddy always said.” Luckily, he went about prepping the bait himself and didn’t ask me again.
The smell of the thing made my nostrils flare. Focus. Eyes on the prize and not on the hook piercing the little scaly creature.
I used his mention of his father to turn the conversation in the direction I wanted. “Did your father own the bait shops before you?”
He nodded as he adjusted the bait. “My daddy’s uncle owned them first, but he had all girls, and they didn’t want it.”
“I’d say that worked out well for you and your father, then.”
He grunted. “For a while. Things aren’t like they used to be. Nowadays, people are more interested in screens than enjoying the great outdoors. This right here”—he gestured to the wide-open sea—“is God’s entertainment.”
“It’s beautiful here. Peaceful. I can see why you like it.” If my stomach didn’t object so vehemently, I could see myself enjoying the water. The sun setting over the vast open sea was gorgeous. I was glad my stomach had settled enough for me to appreciate that. I sure as hell would never see it again like this if I could help it.
A memory popped into my mind, of a time I’d watched the sun go in the opposite direction. During my summer in CBX, the group of us had decided to camp out on the beach and stay up all night. I couldn’t remember whose idea it was, but I distinctly remember Brit and me laughing at the idea that college girls couldn’t keep up with the beach kids when it came to all-nighters. As it turned out, everyone but Bennett and I succumbed to exhaustion. The two of us were the only ones who witnessed the brilliant-orange sunrise. We sat on beach towels covered in sand, and my hand itched to take his, to lace his fingers through mine. The morning light glinted off Bennett’s face, eventually getting so bright he slipped on sunglasses. Our shoulders touched, and he smiled at me, obviously content.
It was a moment made for the movies. I’d thought for sure Bennett was going to kiss me that morning. But he hadn’t, and a week later, I’d gone back to college. It pained me to acknowledge that I still wanted to know what it was like to kiss him.
“Yup, it’s peaceful.” Mr. Abernathy’s voice snapped me back to the present. “Now what do you want to talk to me about?” Turning his back to me, he cast his line.
Pushing thoughts of Bennett aside and taking a deep breath, I tried to remember my talking points as my stomach continued to roll. “I understand you had to close one of your locations three years ago.”
Once I’d contacted Phil, he’d assured me his research division would make up for my being blindsided about the business commission. I would have hated to be on the receiving end of his wrath, but whatever he’d said had resulted in lots of useful information that would have taken me forever to dig up on my own.
“It’s a damn shame.” Mr. Abernathy’s voice was filled with bitterness. “Billy worked for me for thirteen years, but I had to consolidate my shops. Too much overhead when all but one of them is closed for most of the year.”
“I obviously haven’t looked at your books, but if I had to guess, I would say another shop is on the chopping block.”
He grunted, confirming what I’d suspected. He was right that people weren’t as interested in simple entertainment as they used to be. But a concierge in a resort could remind people about what the islands offered. In fact, the resort would depend on local businesses to offer its guests the personal experience the Carolina Banks was known for. There was no downside, which was why it was frustrating I was having to work so hard to convince business owners to support the development. They were afraid of change, even if it was good for them.
