Page 15 of Ruining His Smirk

Unlike Landry, this youngster was slim and had the air of an academic. I studied his face. He was a kid. Perhaps a grad student? He just stood there clutching a duffel bag, looking from Landry to me and back again with the expression of a deer caught in headlights. Poor bastard looked like he’d wandered into entirely the wrong story. Something about him made me calm down.

“Nate?”

I looked back at the captain.

“Yes… sir?”

“Do I have your word?”

Shit. I had missed whatever he had said last, but I didn’t want to risk revealing that. I nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

That seemed to pacify him enough that he took one last look at me and stomped off the deck.

“What did I just promise?” I muttered to Keith while staring at Landry. “I kinda lost the last bit.”

Keith sighed. “You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“…You didn’t hear any of that?”

“Apparently not.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“Only if I can takehimdown with me.”

“Jesus, Nate.” Keith blew a breath. “Can I let you go? Will you behave?”

“Yeah. Fine. But what did I promise the captain?”

“He asked you to be Landry’s point of contact for the duration of his stay, starting with showing him around the ship, and extending acordialwelcome. His words, not mine.”

I stared at Keith in new horror.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself living proof that the universe possessed a vicious sense of humor. Captain Birch had not only ordered me to show Landry around the ship, he’d insisted Keith accompany us “to ensure civilization prevailed.”

I walked down a corridor. Keith was next to me.

Landry walked several paces behind us. And bringing up the rear was, as I had learnt, his brother, Dexter, a grad student who was here to use our moon pool for his icefish study.

“This,” I said flatly as we stepped through another watertight door, “is a corridor.”

“Nate,” Keith warned.

I ignored him. “It connects one room to another,” I announced loudly.

“I know what a corridor is, but you sure like hearing your own voice. Typical nerd.”

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Better than a typical asshole. At least my voice is pleasant.”

I pushed open the next door. “This is the data suite.”

Landry pushed past me, shoulder-checking me, and stepped inside. What a tool.