10. Stow
Chapter 10
Stow
Haley
“ S hayla, I’m not lying to you. That’s what Easton said.”
“Well, girl, it doesn’t make sense.”
“No, I’m with you there.” I eat the rest of my toast over the sink. Making one less dish to wash.
“Well, I’ve been labelling the extra stuff. We don’t know what to do with all the question mark boxes.”
“Thank you for stopping writing WTF on them.”
Calvin’s smells of motor oil or grease and I kind of like it. “How are you doing?”
“I’m—”
Shayla cuts me off. And smiles from Calvin to me. “We’re fantastic.”
Calvin scowls and pours himself a cup of coffee. “Where’s what’s-her-name?”
“Brianna.” Shayla’s eye roll might cause permanent damage to her vision. “She’s sleeping in. Has a migraine is what she told me. Screamed at me loud enough when the light from the bathroom hit her bunk. But I’m not going to not take a shower.”
“Gotcha.” Calvin leans his butt on the counter, his ankles crossed. Thank goodness he doesn’t ask if I’ve mentioned it to the captain yet. Because I haven’t. But I will when I get a second.
“Calvin, Haley has a question for you.” Shayla’s eyes widen like if I don’t ask him, she’s going to whine about it for the rest of the day.
“I do. I do. We’re getting ready to move a bunch of extra boxes out of the rooms into the dining room.”
“I’d love to help.” Calvin downs his coffee and washes the mug, setting it in the drying rack.
Shayla races up the stairs, and we follow her. She’s not wrong in her assessment that something more pressing would have come up if she’d asked Calvin. She told me what happened between the two of them. It’s one of the reasons she doesn’t drink on crew nights off anymore. Not that we’re likely to have any nights off.
I want to gather the extra things together in the dining room, even though it will make the salon look like a community sale on Nantucket. But we don’t have the room for all this stuff anywhere else.
Calvin stares at the boxes in the junior suite, Candy Cane . “There’s ten if not fifteen boxes in here.”
“Yup.” Shayla picks up one and tries to hand it to him.
He puts up his hand. “Hold up.” He pulls out his radio. “All crew. If you’re not doing something urgent, come meet us at the bow junior suites.”
A chorus of “copy”s comes over the radio.
I bite my lip and nod. “You’re right.”
“Everything the room needs has been unpacked?”
“Yes, and spares are stowed. It’s enough for two yachts.”
“Three,” Shayla adds.
“You mind if I go talk to the captain? I’ll be right back,” I say.
“Should we wait?” Shayla asks.
“No, we have to do something with all of it, anyway.” I hustle up the stairs and catch the captain as he’s coming out of the bridge. “Hey Captain, can I talk to you?” He looks as handsome as ever. If he smelled like Calvin and sounded like Zane, I wouldn’t be able to form a sentence in front of him.
“I was just on my way to help Calvin.”
“Yeah, it’s about that—Calvin is helping me.”
“I see, and what’s the problem?”
“No problem with Calvin, he’s great. It’s all the stuff on the yacht. Shayla and I finished outfitting all the cabins and guest spaces late last night. But you wouldn’t be able to tell it from all the boxes of decorations that are left.”
“How many?”
I point to the salon, where at least twenty boxes sit stacked in the corner.
“Those are all extra?”
“Yeah, let me show you.” I open the first box. There are nine golden horses, and the next four hold throw pillows, but there are so many pillows on the sofa as it is you would have to throw half of them on the floor to sit.
“That’s a lot of pillows.”
“And there’s more.” I touch the boxes containing pillows. “Which isn’t that big of a deal. I could order storage bags and suck the air out and put them in a coat closet or in the bilge of the boat. But it’s all the other stuff, the heavy stuff.”
“These were all marked for the salon?”
“Yes.” I shift onto my toes.
“I tell you what, let’s take them all out and just try it.”
“Okay.” I cringe inside because Shayla and I already tried it in one of the bedrooms. The bed disappeared in pillows, and the dressers and night stands didn’t have an inch of usable space left.
I turn around, and the captain is holding two brass horses. He wanders around the room, like a small child looking for Easter eggs after the teenagers have scooped them all up. “Well, this is blasted nuts. There are nine of these damn things in the box and I can’t find a spot for one that won’t kill someone if we hit a rogue wave.”
“So last night, Easton...” I hesitate. Easton is the owner’s son.
“What did he do?” The captain’s voice rumbles through me.
“He didn’t do anything. He told me that Candy wanted the crew to pick what decor to use and donate the rest.”
“That sounds like a load of trash. Why would she buy all this shit and tell us to donate it?”
“It wasn’t some mistake at the shipyard?”
“No. The deck crew had to check off the content of each box as they brought it on board.” Sam looks the boxes up and down. And he cocks a smile. “Is the younger Rockwell up?”
“Yes, Dante tried to make him breakfast, but he wouldn’t let him. He’s on the sun platform, working out. That’s what Shay said. She went up to see if he needed anything, and he said he was good, that he knew he was early and he would come find someone if he needed anything.”
“Let’s go see Easton.”
“You want me to come with you, sir?” I swallow. I’m not sure I want to be part of this conversation. I’m not one for conflict when I see it coming.
“Yes, I’m sure you can get the real answer out of him.”
“Okay.” I follow the captain up the stairs, at the exact rate that keeps my eyes off his ass.
The sundeck is gorgeous. I’ve hardly spent any time up here at all yet. There are a couple of exercise machines, a hot tub, and a bar. Shayla and I both came to the conclusion we could outfit the bar and bring up towels as we needed them.
Easton pounds the pedals of the elliptical. His skin glistens in the sun, and I try to not drool. He looks like an Olympian, well, because he is an Olympian.
Easton smiles and waves, reaching for his phone to silence his headphones. He brings the machine to a stop.
“Sorry to interrupt your workout.” The captain cocks his head back to me. “Haley tells me that Candy is being charitable and wants to donate the extra decor.”
“That’s Candy—she loves being helpful.”
“I know her, that’s why I want to confirm with you that the extra supplies are to be donated? We don’t have space for many of them, and they will end up being a safety hazard.”
“Safety hazard.” Easton smiles and then nods. “Of course, they would be too much weight.” He dries himself with a towel. A towel that he must’ve gotten for himself.
“More the flying objects. It’s a boat, not a house.”
“Yes, I would imagine Candy has forgotten that. The shipyard designers were more than happy to let her order as much as she wanted, I’m sure.”
The captain nods. “I’m going to be honest with you. I might be wrong, and maybe Candy has turned over a charitable leaf, but when we give away all this extra?—”
“—decor,” I interject. “Decor. It’s just a lot.”
“You want to make sure it comes back to me and not you or Haley or Shayla?”
“Yes.” The captain nods.
“My dad likes you. He’s had a boat forever, each one a little bigger. But you’re the first captain he doesn’t complain about. If you want the shit gone, I’ll take the fall. I’d love to see the look on Candy’s face when all her five million horses are gone. Fun fact, she doesn’t know how to ride a horse. My dad surprised her by having a stable put in at the main house when they were in the city last winter. She hates live horses. She won’t even go down to feed them a damn carrot.” His phone flashes. “It’s Rocky. I’ll break it to him now.” He taps the screen. “Hello.”
“Easton, where the hell are you, son? They said you checked out of the hotel early. Candy and I are going to lunch with Brick and Emily.”
“I did. I’m at the boat, Dad. I’m talking to Captain Sam. There’s a little issue.”
“What is it? They said things were coming along but picking it up early made for some additional preparations. Why the fuck didn’t they?—”
“Dad, you’re on speaker with Captain Sam and head stew Haley.”
“Well, why in fuck didn’t you lead with that? Hello Captain, Miss Haley.”
“Hello,” I say, wishing to hell I wasn’t involved in this.
“Right, Dad, there’s so much extra shit ordered for the boat that the captain says it’s a safety issue. They gave me a full tour, and it’s so much that you can’t walk into some cabins.”
“Is that right?” Mr. Rockwell doesn’t sound like he’as buying it.
“Dad, in my cabin there are five horse statues and six anchor lamps. And that’s just what’s out. There are boxes of stuff too. If we hit a rogue wave, we’re going to be buried alive in horses and pillows.”
“Is this true, Captain Sam?”
“I’m afraid so, Rocky. It’s too much stuff and more.”
“Fine, get rid of it. Do you need more time to get the ship ready?”
“Another day would make things a lot more presentable.”
“Done. You coming back to the hotel, then, Easton?”
“No, there’s a lot to do here, Dad. I’m going to stay and help.” Easton smiles at me, and all I wonder is how much does he pay to get his teeth that white.
“You sure? Candy is going to take Emily shopping.”
“That sounds like hell. I’ll pass.”
“All right, we’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.” Mr. Rockwell disconnects, with no goodbye or I love you. My mom’s been gone for four years, and I can’t imagine not telling her I love you.
“That’s awesome.” I clap.
“Do you want to tell the crew?” Captain Sam is beaming at me.
I grab my radio. “All crew, all crew. Mr. Rockwell and guests are now arriving tomorrow morning. And the extra boxes are going to be donated. Please take them to the dock.” The calls that come back are equally as excited as I am.
“That’s amazing,” says Dante over the radio. “I’ve got some gourmet lunch going down to the crew mess in an hour, but I’ll take the extra day. Woo-hoo!”
“I’m done with my workout. How can I help you, Haley?” Easton takes a long drink from his water bottle.
The captain clears his throat. “That’s really kind of you, Easton, and normally we’d say no, due to liability. But as the owner’s son, you can certainly help all you want. Shayla is down by your room. Haley and I need to talk.”
I glance at the captain, wondering how I’ve gotten myself in trouble, because by the way the captain’s glaring at me, I’ve done something I’ve forgotten about.
“I’ll see you down there.” I wave.
“She’s going to be busy most of the day. But I’m sure you’ll catch up during dinner service.” The captain’s gruff, like he’s drawing a line in the sand.
“I meant what I said,” replies Easton. “I’ll find something to eat near the dock. No need to do anything special for me.”
I squint, remembering Easton’s preference sheet. Then I follow the captain down the stairs to what I hope isn’t my dismissal.
“Anders, I need the bridge.”
Anders gets up off the floor and points to me. “You don’t want me to stay?” It’s protocol on most yachts to have two officers issue a correction.
“She’s not in trouble.” His tone is still gruff. “Close the door,” he says to his first officer.
Anders gives me a look of pity and questioning. And I have to say I wonder what the heck this is too.