“You’ve asked him? Right? What does he say?”
They look at each other, then back to me, momentarily dumbfounded. Then they seem to silently agree that they don’t know, and stare down at the paperwork again.
Chapter 17
IRVING
The waves slap gently on the underside of the dock as we walk to the yacht. Torches flicker every few feet or so to light our way, and I can see dark shapes sliding in the water beneath us.
As we mount the gangplank, I keep my eye on Opal’s round, luscious ass. She’s dressed in a simple, flowing skirt and a light sweater to keep her warm from the breeze. I don’t know why this is so alluring. It doesn’t make any rational sense. All I can assume is that it is not the outfit. It’s the woman inside it.
On the upper deck, the quiet, discreet staff prepare our dinner. The sky above us is ablaze with stars that twinkle emphatically in the cloudless, inky sky.
Cal turns when he hears our approach, immediately picking up a bottle of champagne from the silver ice bucket. He pours out three flutes and hands one to me, and one to Opal. Before she takes it from him, he darts in to steal a quick, tender kiss, chucking her gently under the chin.
“Feels like forever,” he smiles.
“It’s only been a few hours,” she smiles back.
I feel pulled in to this trio mentality, and then pulled back out of it. There is an elastic sensation. When I resolve to enjoy myself, I enjoy myself very much. But then it is like I awaken from a dream and some part of me wants to retreat. Some other part of me wants to push Cal aside. After all, it’s been a long time since we really talked.
A dark-haired woman brings a plate of chilled figs and prawns to the long table, setting it in the middle. She casts Cal a tender, understanding smile before returning to the prep area. He smiles back, then reaches for Opal’s hand.
“What kind of investment are you looking for?” I ask.
Cal pauses before answering. “You know, let’s not talk about that right now. If you don’t mind? Let’s just enjoy the air… the dinner… the boat.”
“I thought that’s why you brought us here,” I observe.
Opal glances between us.
“It is,” he admits, nodding slowly. “But there’s no rush. We have other things to take our attention. Right?”
Opal turns toward me expectantly.
“You said this was your mother’s boat?” she asks.
“It was,” I nod. “It’s a lot older than it looks.”
“That was another joke,” she smiles.
I can’t help but smile back. “It was,” I confirm.
Cal and Opal both look at me expectantly. When I realize that they are both being patient, being kind, I feel like I need to explain.
“I’m not being fair,” I apologize. “There’s no reason to bring tension into what is a perfectly agreeable situation. I suppose I am simply so accustomed to being curt that I have forgotten how to be any other way.”
Cal raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I don’t feel any tension,” he lies.
Opal smirks, understanding. I know she won’t lie out loud. But I know she understands.
She stands suddenly, smoothing her skirt over her hips. I watch her hands, watch her fingers dimple the flesh.
“Well, can I get a tour?” she asks simply.
“Of course,” I answer, rising. “I should have offered. How rude of us. Cal?”
With a slightly startled smile, Cal rises as well. He nods to the staff, and we head to the interior of the ship. Cal directs the tour, pointing out the various rooms. I try to see it through Opal’s wide eyes. I don’t think she has ever been on a vessel like this before.