Chapter 6 #2
“No. To be out on my own terms. I wouldn’t even be the first in the league.
They still tried to talk me out of it. Told me how much cash I’d lose in sponsorships and brand deals.
” He shrugs. “And I told them I’d have to walk away completely.
Go work with Reece at his foundation or help Pat with his fitness classes.
Because me hiding who I am? That’s the same as saying there’s something wrong with my brothers, yeah?
I’d never do it. Couldn’t.” He shrugs again.
“Wouldn’t. So the media team took me seriously.
They’re prepared for me being out and open about it.
Been sitting on press packets ever since, just in case. ”
“You didn’t already . . .?”
“Meet anyone I wanted in my life enough to get that ball rolling?” He shakes his head.
“Nope. I wasn’t avoiding it. Just didn’t meet the right person.
Plus, I wasn’t in a hurry to do something that would only shine a spotlight on Reece and Pat.
They don’t have my either-or options. Not saying I have any choice about who gets my motor running.
” He side-eyes me, and I glimpse a hint of warmth.
It gutters just as quickly. “But the last brush either of them had with the rougher side of media attention . . .”
Ah.
“It was because of me.”
“Which makes you perfect.” He snorts and uses a word the internet gave him as a label. “What you did to Jack was ruthless.”
I’ve seen plenty of real ruthlessness with Reece on French beaches.
Calum ascribing the same cruelty to me shouldn’t be a gut punch.
He watches me wince, but he doesn’t backtrack.
“That’s what I need, Valentin. Someone who doesn’t give a shit about hurting people.
Someone who doesn’t care about me or about my reputation.
That’s why your name wasn’t right at the top of my list. It was the only one on it. ”
He reaches over the edge of the bunk and comes back with his phone, which casts more light onto his face. I see determination before I realise what the screen shows me.
Speedboat after speedboat fills it, all for sale on Dad’s website.
“It’s almost midnight. You want to hit your sales target?”
I nod.
I do. So much.
“Why?”
“Because the moment la Sylvie is shipshape, I’m out of here.”
His brow creases. “You don’t want to be part of your family business?”
“Non.”
Those creases deepen. “You don’t want to help your father?”
“I . . .” Saying no feels too simple for what is all too complex.
I blame my internal conflict on the fact that Christmas is coming.
It’s always a reminder of counting down the days until Père Noel would pay his annual visit when I was so much younger.
“He’s always been business focussed. He doesn’t need my help with his. ”
Calum isn’t so certain. “Listen, while I was waiting for you to get back here, I heard someone say the luxury maritime market is really struggling.”
That’s what Dad also admitted about the baby he always put first. It sounds like Calum is having second thoughts about spending six figures.
I tell my heart to quit sinking, and I focus on skimming a finger along the flaking varnish of my own baby.
“She needs repairs, but if I don’t hit my sales target to score them for her, I do have one other option. ”
“Which is?”
He’s the one covered in bruises. I don’t know why sharing this feels so tender. Maybe because Lito laughed about a confession I now make to an actual cup winner. “I’ll win a contest. For filmmakers.”
Unlike Lito, he’s interested. “Yeah?”
“Oui. I’m almost finished. The cash prize means I could get back to doing what gets to me right here.
” I touch the centre of my chest. “I never wanted to stop. My boat almost sinking wasn’t my decision, but if no one else will come up with the cash to fix her”—I meet the eyes of someone who I bet regrets offering to buy a boat by midnight, and who I now let off that hook—“I’ll do it myself by winning that contest.”
His frown softens a fraction. “I want the same. To fix my own problem and get back to doing what I love. Crazy how my club will meet my terms for that in one way.” About him being bi, I guess.
Calum touching my jaw with a gentle finger seems to confirm it until his tone sharpens.
“But they won’t budge one little bit for something else that matters to me.
” He’s bleak. So is his question. “Think you can make me look bad enough in the next three weeks to cost me my contract?”
Sex always makes me stupid. And too honest. “Probably not.” I shrug. “Maybe, if you agree to do anything I suggest. How likely is that?”
“Me doing whatever you tell me? Not at all.”
Of course it isn’t. “How about you letting me record you twenty-four seven? Because viral moments happen when you least expect them. Are you on board with me following you constantly with my camera running?”
“Spend even more time with you?” He crosses his eyes like Jack did in the alley, but he also tucks me tight into his side. “Can’t imagine anything worse.”
I struggle free, but I can’t help laughing. “Maybe it’s just as well. I don’t even have time to finish my contest entry while working for Dad. There’s no way I could carve out extra time to make you look a bigger dick than you are already.”
He huffs. “You like my big dick.”
“I do.” Stupid, see? It’s my only excuse for adding, “Save your money.” I roll close to kiss him. Or I would roll close if he hadn’t already rolled in the other direction to sit on the edge of my bunk. “You have to go?”
“Yeah.” He shakes out his shirt. “Got an early start out of town.” He buttons it, hiding dark gold chest hair, more’s the pity. And all those bruises, thank goodness. Calum pauses midway through pulling on his trousers. “What did you mean you won’t have time to finish your entry?”
I tell him more than I’d admit to anyone else, but I guess that’s only fair after everything he told me. “Because it’s about a hero I once followed.”
He guesses and scores a bullseye. “Reece?”
I nod. “Even if Dad did give me time off, my chances of finding someone else as heroic are slim. I’ll have to pad out what I’ve already got with B-roll.
Add in some rich execs having test drives as a contrast to him.
I just hope to fuck I get the time to do it and edit.
Sucks that the timing clashes with this show. ”
“When is your entry due?”
“The same day the show closes.” Right now, two weeks doesn’t seem anywhere near enough time to do it. I square my jaw. “I’ll make it happen.”
Calum is dressed now, but like outside that Kensington restaurant, he doesn’t leave me right away.
He comes back to crouch beside my bunk. Our heads are on the same level, and I don’t know what I expected.
It wasn’t for him to gather up my rumpled blankets, or for him to tuck them this carefully around me.
“You keep that egg warm,” he says while doing the same thing for me.
What Calum doesn’t do is make my life easy by promising to buy a boat by midnight, and maybe I should be gutted at a potential escape route fizzling.
I might have been if he didn’t lean in for a kiss lasting for so long his murmur is breathless.
“And don’t give up. Keep fighting for what you need, yeah? ”
I nod. I will. “You too.”
He nods back. Calum touches my jaw one last time, our quiet moment of connection only ending when he stands. He holds out a fist. “Keep being the worst person on the planet, Juno.”
I bump it. “Just as long as you keep putting the Ho in hockey.”
The cabin hatch closing behind him cuts off his laughter, and I pull the blankets even closer.
Sleep takes a while to come in a cabin lit by an incubator.
La Sylvie rocks both me and a duck egg gently.
She rocks a whole lot harder early the next morning.
I crack an eye open to daylight, and to another Christmas miracle from Dad—he actually sounds happy. “Oh, Valentin,” he yodels outside. “I need you.”
I dress quickly and emerge to see him point across the marina at someone who hasn’t given up on a Christmas miracle of his own.
“And I need you, Lancaster.” For a big guy who usually lumbers, Dad can be fast on his feet with the right incentive.
He tugs me along the mooring to meet a perpetually hopeful Harry.
“You need me, Mr. Juno?”
“Yes. I need both of you.” Dad slings a heavy arm across our shoulders, but he aims this at me. “Now, about the little trick you played last night. You two switched places.”
“How did you—”
“Know?” Dad snorts. “You think I can’t tell the difference between a decent pilot and an exceptional one?”
His arm around me tightens to signal he means me. That’s unexpected, a gift almost making up for the one I all but let Calum off the hook for.
Dad booms at Harry. “There’s nothing wrong with your piloting, but I’d know my son on the water anytime, anywhere, night or day.” He lets Harry go, his hold on me unrelenting. “And you should have told me why you disappeared for half of last night’s party.”
I flashback to kissing in a shadowed alley. To Calum’s face fractured by firework explosions. To faded bruises and quiet confessions that only told half a story.
Dad mentions other aspects. “Like telling me you came up with a new sales strategy.”
“I did?”
“Yes! You targeted a completely different market.” He makes my spur-of-the-moment decision to chase after Calum sound deliberate.
“Genius thinking to woo a sportsman. Even better that you picked a Trelawney after the boat loan we made to his brother a while ago.” He drops a final truth bomb.
“Because that’s what Calum Trelawney has ordered.
A replacement speedboat for his brother, fully kitted out for marine rescues. ”
“He made an order?” My heart stutters. “When? Before midnight or after?”
Dad’s gaze drifts away like my hopes of repairs.
“After.” His gaze drifts back, not quite meeting mine.
“You came so close, Valentin. So, so close.” He clears his throat.
“But good for you for trying to rise to the challenge. I’ll get to your repairs sooner or later.
” I’d be bitter about coming so near yet so far if Dad didn’t add, “Trelawney’s order does come with one condition, which is why I need both you and Lancaster. ”
“Because?”
Now Dad’s gaze lands on the same boat I took Calum for a ride in, painted with that Trust Juno to Speed to the Rescue motto.
“Because Trelawney hasn’t decided which model to purchase.
” He swallows. “Or how many.” For once, he sounds fragile instead of his usual domineering, and I’m reminded of what else Calum mentioned.
“It . . . It would help the business a great deal if he was in the market for more than one. He wants to try them all before deciding.” Dad reverts to his usual loudly vocal.
“You’re still looking for work, Lancaster? ”
Harry straightens. “Yes, skipper. You want me to give those test drives?”
“No. It has to be Valentin.” Dad faces me, something flickering below his surface that I don’t have a name for apart from awkward.
Him unzipping my jacket explains why—Dad has to acknowledge my real vocation.
“Trelawney specifically asked for you because of your other skill set.” He taps my GoPro. “And he said to tell you, yes.”
“Yes?”
Dad nods firmly. “Yes, he does want you to be his personal videographer. As soon as he’s back in London, he needs you to capture some of his time in the city between his other engagements.
For his fans, he said. He wants you available at a moment’s notice to fit around his schedule, which means I’ll need to take you off test-drive duties.
Now I’ve seen Lancaster in action, there’s no reason you can’t be spared to be on call for Trelawney. ”
It’s a dark and dreary December morning.
Rare sunshine breaks through the clouds as soon as Dad delivers what feels like an early Christmas present. “He said you already have some footage to edit.”
I do, but not of Calum.
“He wants you to get on with that until he gets back.”
So what if Calum’s speedboat order came too late to bump my own boat up Dad’s repair list. He’s bought me the time I need to save her myself, and if he was here right now?
I’d give Calum so much more than a Christmas kiss to thank him.