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As we approached the boat, its white bow seemed to rear up in front of me like a sea monster. I could see the name on the side.The San Diego.
“Well, hi, folks!” said Mark Menckel as we approached the boat. “Hi, Julia. You managed to convince Jamie to come along, huh?”
“She was a tough nut to crack,” she said.
“Mark!” I squealed and turned to Julia. “So you knew who I was all along?”
“What can I say?” said Julia, shrugging and giggling a little. “We didn’t think you’d want to come. Mark put me up to it.”
“This isjustlike you,” I said, pointing at Mark. “Always with the schemes and the subterfuge! You’re almost as bad as—"
“—Bad as who?” said a voice above.
Oh no.
I looked up to see Eric leaning from the balustrade of the enormous white yacht.
It was Eric. Of course, it was Eric. In a white shirt, shorts, and deck shoes, he was waving at the group of us standing on the quay, wearing a pair of aviators. His hair was ruffled by the sun.
“All aboard,” Eric said, and my heart sank as we climbed aboard the boat.
Chapter Eight
Eric
“Youknow,Ididn’tplan this,” I said to Jamie, offering her a glass of champagne.
She looked at the glass in my hand, the fizzing golden liquid in the glass, and took it slowly. But she didn’t drink.
“That’s hard to believe,” I said.
“Really,” I said. “It was Mark’s idea. He’s a big fan of yours. You know that?”
“Yep,” she sighed.
“I must say,” I said, turning around and looking out at the bay as we slowly drifted away from the land and towards the cool, clear ocean. “I’m impressed.”
“Huh?”
“I’m impressed. You’ve made a big impression on the people who are here. I was right about you.”
“Please, let’s not do this,” said Jamie.
But she had to know.
“I mean it,” I said. “I saw potential in you all those years ago.”
“I know,” she said. “And I’m glad you did. It gave me some confidence. But Eric, we can’t just make up and be friends now. You know that, don’t you?’
“Sure I do,” I said. Even if I didn’t want to believe it was true. But Jamie had a point. Things couldn’t be the same. We both knew that.
But I was still determined to try. To get closer to her. To understand.
By any means necessary.
I felt pretty sure that she hadn’t seen me pluck a couple of the long, brown hairs that were still stuck to the scarf in her hotel room that night. I’d seen it on Cassie, and then on her. I recognized it immediately and took my chance.
So I pulled a hair off. One was Jamie’s, and the other was Cassie’s; I could tell by the dark color.
