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Bowie noted the way his father’s nostrils flared. It was a sure tell that he was pissed but holding back. That worked for Bowie because he was basically finished with this whole conversation. “I’ll be in touch, Dad,” he promised, and yeah, that was probably another lie.
His father stood and he knew that if he didn’t high tail it out of there, he would be asked about a million other questions. Helen peeked her head into the office and smiled at Bowie. “Mr. Wrath, you have a call on line one. It’s Bruno Gluttony.”
“Which Mr. Wrath?” Deacon asked.
“Um, you, sir,” Helen said. Bowie let out the breath he didn’t know that he was holding. The last thing he needed was to field a phone call from the Gluttony family—especially Bruno.
He slipped out of the office and pulled Helen into a quick hug. “Well, what’s that for?” she asked.
“For giving my father something to do besides yell at me on my way out,” he said.
“I didn’t make Bruno Gluttony call him, but I did put him on hold until you were on your way out. I think it’s more of a perfect timing thing,” she teased.
“Well, whatever it was, thank you,” he said. “You have my number if anything goes south, just text me.”
“I will, Bowie,” Helen agreed, “and, have fun. You deserve it.” She was right, he did deserve it and he planned on having so much fun, he wouldn’t ever want to come back home, but that wasn’t going to take much of an effort. He was already dreading coming home from his trip, and he hadn’t even left yet.
Eden
Eden Powell was hoping to stay on dry land for a bit longer, but when Captain Powell called to ask her to take a last-minute charter, she couldn’t tell him no. He wasn’t just her boss, he was also her father, so that made telling him no about anything damn near impossible. It also meant that fooling around with any of the crew members was off-limits because they were all afraid of her father, and rightly so. He was the one in control of who would be working and who’d be sitting a charter out. They made good money when tipped properly, and she knew that their latest guest would tip quite well. In fact, most of the Deadly Sins families tipped well, and she didn’t want to miss out on that.
She found her father in the captain’s chair, going over some last-minute course corrections. “So, who do we have the pleasure of serving the next two weeks?” she asked. Eden knew that there were a few syndicate families who used this particular yacht, and she never knew who was going to be their guest.
“Eden,” he said, standing from his chair to pull her in for a quick hug. “Thanks for taking the charter last minute. We’re taking out Mr. Wrath.”
“Old, cranky Mr. Wrath or young, hot Mr. Wrath?” she teased.
“Dear God,” her father breathed. She wondered what she said when she looked up to find him looking straight past. “Shit, he’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” she asked.
“Yep, and you’re in luck because I am not old cranky Mr. Wrath. He wouldn’t have found your statement as amusing as I have. I’m Bowie,” Eden turned to find the hot-as-hell younger Wrath holding out his hand to her.
“I’m Eden Powell,” she said, taking his hand.
“Powell,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at her. He looked over at her father. “Any relation?” he asked.
“She’s my daughter,” her father said.
“Well, then, I’m sorry,” he said to Eden. “I also work for my father and know that it can be a pain in the ass to work for your old man.”
“You have no idea,” she teased, looking back at her father as she giggled. He rolled his eyes at her, making her laugh even harder. She and her dad had the same sense of humor. If he wasn’t trying to impress Mr. Wrath, he’d find the whole scene just as funny as she did.
“When you have a minute, sir, I’d like to talk to you about our itinerary,” her father said to Bowie.
“That would be great, but I think I might have to ruin your whole plan. I got a call from a business associate, and I’d like to meet him in the south of France for a few days, at least,” he said. “Can you find me something somewhat tropical in the south of France?” Bowie asked her father.
“I think that can be arranged. How about Saint Tropez?” her father asked.
“I haven’t been there since I was a kid, just before my mother passed,” Bowie said. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
“Um, I better get started on service for dinner and make sure that the rest of the crew know what the plan is,” Eden said. She looked down at where their hands were still joined and back up at Bowie. “Do you mind if I take that with me?” she asked, looking back down at her hand.
“Yeah, I guess you’re going to need that,” he said, releasing her hand. “Will I see you again?”
“Well, it is a pretty big boat, but I’m betting that we’ll run into each other, Mr. Wrath. If you need anything, just ring the doorbell that can be found at each entrance, and I’ll come to find you.” Her father groaned from behind them, and she once again found herself giggling like a damn schoolgirl as she walked off of the bridge.
She knew that her father would gently let Mr. Wrath know that she and the rest of the crew members were there to work, but there was something about the younger Wrath that just made her body feel like it was humming to life after what felt like a long, cold winter. He had sex appeal in spades, but that didn’t matter. He was hands-off—as all charter guests were, or her father would have no problem making an example out of her and firing her in front of the whole crew. He ran a tight ship, her father, the captain, and Eden had come to expect that from him.
* * *
