Page 7 of Unmoored: How to Fail at Hating the Boss

“Thanks,” she says.

“For what?”

“For not letting me fall into the water.”

“Can’t let those pretty white shorts get wet,” I say, immediately regretting those words. I tack on, “I’ll be back to check on you later. Don’t leave your post.”

Her smile returns, and dammit, I shouldn’t be so relieved that she’s smiling at me. “Aye-aye, captain.”

“I’m not a captain. And we’re on land…” Why do I have to be so damn pedantic? Technically, the Minnow Bucket is like five feet from the water and sits on pilings along the boardwalk that lines the shoreline. And I know she’s just messing around with that “captain” stuff.

“And if Mack wasn’t spending his summer visiting his kids, he’d have my ass if he thought I was letting you call me Captain.”

Her high-pitched laugh is too much and not enough. I can’t stand it that I’m leaving her alone, but I need to keep her in a safe spot while I get my other shit done. My will to work fights against the need to keep my eyes on her. To keep my arms around her so nothing happens to her.

But that’s not proper, and that’s not safe, if I’m going to be managing a busy marina.

I’ll come up with something for her to do outside so she doesn’t give me that hangdog look again.

I’ll just have to make sure she wears a life preserver.

And maybe a helmet.

Three

Quincy

With a fresh travel mug of coffee and a thick bridal magazine, I prop my bare legs on the weathered dock and gaze out at the scenery.

Yesterday was my first day at the marina, and I didn’t get much time outside.

So today, I’ve arrived early to take in the scenery before the speedboats take over the lake.

Work was slow as soon as Reef stuck me inside the Minnow Bucket. A few phone calls, a few emails. Maybe twenty or so day renters for the boat slips. Sold some beer and bait, restocked the beer and the bait. When Reef came to check on me at lunchtime, he acted really strange. Well, not that much stranger than before, but he looked over everything I did. Checked the register tape, counted the money, eyeballed the inventory and checked the logs against the boats in the slips. I teased him for counting the money, asking him if he suspected me of stealing, but he said it was just procedure.

He may say he does everything by the book, but I’m pretty sure it’s not procedure to flash one’s stomach at one’s employee for like ten whole seconds. It was right in my face, with its whorl of black hair and tanned skin and hard ridges. Thick. I wonder if he’s thick everywhere, I remember thinking. And then, alas, it was gone. The rest of my day went much the same, except I minded the store with the memory of that flash of stomach, the shine of sweat on his upper chest, and how his arms felt when he jerked me back from Pete’s boat.

I know I’m not right in the head when instead of thinking about what I did wrong, I’m wondering what else I can do to make Reef pounce at me like that again.

Who knows? It might be fun to have a summer fling to go with my summer job. Imagine going back to my high school US history classroom, appearing as square and uptight as can be, none of my students knowing what I got up to.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Way ahead.

After all, it is entirely possible that I’m reading into Reef’s body language. He could be oblivious to the chemistry between us. I’ve misread situations before.

Today is Friday, so hopefully today’s tasks will make the day go much faster than yesterday. A lot of boats in North Carolina take Friday afternoons off if they can swing it. In Songbird Ridge, nobody’s working on Fridays in the spring and summer. Or in the fall, to be honest.

At 7 a.m. on Merlin Lake, there’s still a pretty mist on the water. I sip my coffee as a heron takes off from the rushes at the shoreline. That insane wingspan of those things always gives me the chills.

I wiggle my toes, waiting to catch the first rays of the sun as I turn to the magazine, gathering ideas. Now that I have the green light from my best friend Becca to take charge of her wedding planning for next year, I have a lot to do. Pinterest is fine, andso are the various websites dedicated to the subject. But man, a great big thick bridal magazine is so grounding.

“Quincy!”

A shadow falls across the water. A tall, broad, and grumpy shadow. Yes, even his shadow is grumpy.

I jump at the sound of my name and turn around to see Reef standing behind me. “Hey,” I say, smiling up at him.

“You on break already?” Reef’s arms are crossed, making his arms bulge.