Chapter 10 #2
I’d jinxed myself with my big, fat mouth yet again. As I surfaced in the churning waters, I scanned the slate-gray horizon. Angry clouds loomed overhead, and a steady rain and wind pelted the group surfacing around me.
“All right, folks,” I called out, my voice carrying over the wind. “Let’s wrap this up nice and easy. Remember the procedures we went over before the dive, stay close, and we’ll be back on the boat in no time.”
I did a quick head count as my collection of six divers bobbed around me. Five calm faces, and one that looked like he’d just seen a shark sharpening its teeth. That’d be Lou, the newbie of the group.
“Hey, Lou,” I said, paddling closer. “How are you holding up, buddy?”
His eyes were huge. “I’m, I’m okay. It’s just…”
“The weather?” I finished for him, flashing my most reassuring grin. “Don’t sweat it. Mother Nature’s putting on a little show for us. I deal with weather all the time. We’ve got this.”
The tension in Lou’s shoulders eased a bit like I’d hoped. Years of guiding divers through their first underwater adventures had honed my ability to read people quickly to a fine art.
“Now let’s get you dry,” I continued, gesturing toward Sunset Diver. “I’ll be right behind you.”
As we made our way back, I kept a watchful eye on Lou and the others.
The waves were getting bigger by the minute, but I’d dealt with worse.
Lou was finning on the surface much too strenuously and his BCD was under-inflated.
“Add air to your BCD. Float on the surface and take it easy. Let the gear do its job, not you.”
Lou’s head bobbed in acknowledgment. As he added a burst of air to his BCD, a flicker of pride crossed his face. Moments like these reminded me why I loved this job. Sure, the endless summer and laid-back lifestyle were nice, but nothing beat the feeling of helping someone conquer their fears.
As we neared the boat, I allowed myself a small sigh of relief.
Despite the challenging conditions, another successful dive was almost in the bag.
I finned ahead to check on the other divers, making sure they were all doing okay.
They were in a neat line, watching the boat carefully as they boarded one by one.
That’s when I heard a splash and a panicked gasp behind me.
“Help! I can’t—” A mouthful of seawater cut off Lou’s voice.
I spun around, my heart racing. Lou was flailing, his eyes wide with terror. Obviously, he hadn’t added enough air and was struggling in the heavy waves. Before I could react, he reached for his BCD release, fumbling with the buckles.
“Lou, don’t—” I shouted. I lunged for him, but it was too late.
I heard the click of the buckle opening even over the wind, and Lou’s entire scuba kit plummeted into the depths below. Shit. We were in deep water here. This was bad. Really bad.
I surged through the water, my muscles burning with the effort. “I’m coming, Lou! Just stay calm and float on your back!”
As I reached him, I could see the fear etched on his face. “I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “I couldn’t figure out the inflator and I panicked—”
“It’s okay,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “I’ve got you now. Your wetsuit provides plenty of flotation, so relax. Let’s get you to the boat.”
I slipped my hands around under Lou’s armpits and started towing him while I moved backward, using the rescue technique I’d practiced countless times. “Deep breaths, buddy. We’re gonna take this nice and slow.”
As we made our way to the boat, I kept up a stream of casual chatter, anything to keep Lou’s mind off the situation. “You know, my first time in rough seas, I hurled all over my instructor. Trust me, this is way less embarrassing.”
A weak laugh escaped Lou’s lips. Good. A relaxed diver was a safer diver.
Finally, we reached the boat. As I helped Lou up the ladder, I could feel the collective sigh of relief from the other divers. Deke, our boat captain, promptly put an arm over his shoulders and steered him safely to the side bench. Crisis averted.
Well, the crisis involving Lou anyway. The kit? That was another story.
“Everyone okay?” I called out, doing another head count. Six nods from my group, and Andrea’s group was already on board. Perfect.
Except for the thousands of dollars of gear lying on the bottom of the ocean.
As we rode back to the resort, the adrenaline from the rescue slowly ebbed away to leave room for a gnawing worry to settle in my gut. I glanced at the empty spot where Lou’s gear should’ve been, and an internal groan escaped me.
Shit. This was going to be expensive.
I ran a hand through my wet, salty hair, trying to push away thoughts of the conversation I’d have to have with Jules.
Our almost-kiss still lingered in my mind, a bittersweet memory now tainted by the dread of this upcoming financial discussion.
I had no doubts which Jules would be present for this conversation.
“You saved my life back there.” Lou’s shaky voice pulled me from my thoughts as he sat next to me.
I turned to him, mustering up a reassuring smile. “Nah, you were fine. Like I said, the wetsuit did the work, not me. How’re you feeling?”
“Better.” He paused, staring at his fidgeting hands. “I’m sorry about the equipment. I’ll pay for it, of course.”
I waved him off, even as my stomach twisted. “Don’t worry about it. Safety first, always.”
We had insurance, but the deductible was huge—more than the cost of a new kit.
And we’d never make a guest compensate us for what was an accident.
As the shoreline of Dove Key came into view, I couldn’t shake the dread.
Jules was going to freak out when she saw the numbers. God, why did this have to happen now?
I could already picture her face—those amazing eyes narrowing, her full lips pressing into a thin line. As we docked, I helped the still-shaken Lou off the boat, my mind racing. How the hell was I going to explain this to her without derailing whatever fragile connection we’d started to build?