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Sabella’s lips part with a silent gasp. Her voice breaks on the single word she utters. “Mom?”
“My goodness. Is that really you? Ryan gave me this number, but I couldn’t bring myself to dial it. I know it’s his.”
Sabella twists away from me, facing the window. “The phone is on speaker.”
“Oh.” The emotion vanishes from her mother’s tone. Instead, she turns business-like, no doubt understanding that I’m listening in. “How are you?”
“Good. How about you?”
“As well as can be expected.” Margaret adds with meaning, “After everything.”
“Are things all right at home?”
“Mattie and Jared are taking care of me, but I’m more interested in hearing your news.”
“There’s not much to say. The weather is turning.”
“Is it cold there?”
“Colder than in Great Brak River, but it’s not so bad.”
An awkward pause follows. Their words seemed to have dried up. Like ours.
Her mother breaks the silence with, “Did he tell you the good news? We’re still waiting for your answer.”
“Did who tell me?” Sabella asks. “What news?”
Margaret clears her throat. “Angelo. About National Geographic.”
Sabella turns her head and looks at me with a question—or rather an accusation—in her eyes.
Fuck. I forgot about that. With everything that’s happening at the moment, the fact that her mother would bring it up didn’t even cross my mind.
“What about National Geographic?” Sabella asks in a hoarse voice, not breaking our eye contact.
“They got hold of your shark video.”
“What? How? The only person I shared it with was my marine vertebrate professor.”
“Your professor sent me a very nice email. He asked how you were doing and said that he was still sorry to have lost such a bright student. Anyway, he said a certain Mrs. Powell contacted him after meeting you in Paris. She told him that you were collaborating on a shark awareness program and that you told her about the video but didn’t have the clip with you to show her.
“Don’t ask me how, but she convinced him to email her the video, which she forwarded to someone she knows at National Geographic. She called here to ask if I could get hold of you. Apparently, she forgot to exchange telephone numbers when you met, and Angelo didn’t return her calls. She sounds like a very nice lady. She reckons the video is too good to be buried in the university archives, and I thought it couldn’t do any harm to share it. I knew you wouldn’t mind.” Margaret exhales audibly. “I don’t even want to know how you managed to film it. They want permission to run it during the next Shark Week. Didn’t Angelo tell you?”
The contentedness that softened Sabella’s eyes after our wild sex turns into something that makes those pools glitter with unshed tears and hurt. Her voice is flat, all the passion gone from her tone. “No, he didn’t tell me.”
Yeah. I’m the devil. If she ever doubted that, now it’s confirmed. I’m her worst nightmare, the man she’s tied to for life.
She faces forward again as if she can’t stand the sight of me any longer. “What did you say?”
“I said I’d get hold of you and get back to them. I asked Ryan to call, thinking he’d have a better chance of reaching you than me. He left several messages.”
Sabella pulls her back straight and says with defiance clearly aimed at me, “You can tell them I say yes. They’re welcome to use my video.”
“What about the filming?” Her mother hesitates. “They can’t wait much longer for you to confirm.”
Her narrow shoulders go rigid. “What filming?”
“They want to film in Great Brak River, and they want you to go with them.”
