Chapter 4
Preparations – Kayla
C aptain Bryant told me to expect a call from him in a day or two.
He also gave me his phone number, so I could store it in my phone and know when it was him calling.
What seemed like a lifetime but was only a day later, I get a call from him.
I feel panic and excitement at the same exact time.
“Hello?”
“Hey Kayla. It’s Captain Wesley Bryant.”
“Ah, yes.” My voice squeaks, and I want to die of embarrassment. “How are you doing?” I say quickly to cover it up.
“I’m doing well. Thank you. Listen, I wanted to let you know that I talked it over with Jack, and we’ve decided to hire you.”
Yes, yes, yes! I want to scream and jump up and down for joy, but I don’t think that’s very professional. So, instead, I just say, “Thank you very much. I’m excited.”
I hear a little chuckle on the other side of the phone. “I’m glad. But remember, you must have those certifications and medical reports done before we take off. You don’t have a lot of time—”
I don’t mean to cut him off, but I do. “I’ll have everything ready. I promise.”
“Great. We’ll see you in Fort Lauderdale in about a week. I’ll email you the plane ticket.”
“You pay for that too?”
Another chuckle. “Of course.”
Wow. “Okay, I’ll look out for that and then, yeah.”
“Sounds good. Let me know if you don’t get the ticket.”
“Will do.”
After we hang up, I finally let myself dance around and celebrate. Then, while out of breath, I call Molly.
“I got the job!”
“Kayla! That’s amazing. Congratulations!”
“Thank you! I’m very excited.”
“I’m coming over after work, so we can plan your outfits.”
I make a face. “You’ve seen the show. I’m just going to be wearing like a white or khaki shirt and some shorts.
“That’s for when you’re on duty. What about when you’re not?”
Oh. I hadn’t considered that. “Good point.”
“Yay! Okay, I’ll be over later tonight.”
Around six, she knocks on my door and has arms full of shopping bags.
“Molly, this is a lot.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Whatever. I put it all on my credit card, so we can take back whatever you don’t want.”
When she sets the bags down, I start digging through them.
“Molly!” I’m holding up a red strappy number.
“What? I thought it was cute.”
I gaze at her through one of the gaping holes. “Cute? There’s barely anything here.”
She pouts and grabs it from me. “Fine. That one is out then.”
“I’ll say.”
She then hoists her tight, figure-hugging, black dress down and throws her long curls behind her back before sitting next to me. “What about this one?” It’s a bikini set. The top is bright pink, and the bottom is white with matching flowers.
“Now that is cute.”
I take the top and hold it against my body.
“Thank you. I figured the pink would look good with your light hair and tan skin.”
“Aw. Thanks, Mol.”
She picks up another bag. “Let’s see what else we’ve got in here. Ooh.”
The next item is a sheer white cover up. “I’m definitely going to be needing this.”
My friend rolls her eyes. “I knew you were going to say that. I almost didn’t even buy it.”
I set that garment aside. “Excuse me? Were you or were you not the one who was just lecturing me about how this job isn’t going to be anything like Yacht Life ?”
Her lips purse. “I was.”
“Well, okay then. You out of all people should know that I’m not going to be meeting some hot dockhand who is going to sweep me off my feet—”
“Hey. You can still have sex with your feet perfectly on the ground.”
“Oh, my gosh!” I shove her shoulder.
She shrugs. “What? That’s all I’m asking for, K. Just a little…” She then clicks her tongue twice.
I shake my head. “That’s not what this is about.”
Leaning closer to me, she says, “Maybe not—but it could be.”
I drop my hands into my lap. “You know, consistency is not your strong suit.”
Her nose wrinkles up. “Yeah, I know.”
After we go through all her recent purchases, which ninety nine percent of will be going back to the store, we order in some pizza and eat it on the tiny dining table in my house.
“So, who is this rich guy?” Molly asks after slurping some stretchy cheese into her mouth. She’s out of that fancy dress and into some comfier clothes that she’s borrowing from me. Her hair is also up in a messy bun.
“His name is Jack Shelley.”
Her piece of pizza slams down on the plate. “Come again?”
“Jack Shelley. I think that’s his name.”
With wide eyes, she asks, “And you don’t know who that is?”
I shrug one shoulder up and back down again. “I mean, I saw him on the Zoom call. But it was dark, and all I could really see was his silhouette.”
After wiping her hands off on a napkin, she picks up her phone and types away on the screen.
“Here. This is your new boss,” she says while holding it up to me. “He’s the CEO of some publishing business, but his family first got wealthy after his grandfather founded Shelley Gas Stations.”
“Whoa.” In the picture I’m looking at, he has a gray suit on with a white undershirt and a black tie. From the red carpet at his feet, I can only guess that he’s at some fancy event. Also, of course, I’ve heard of Shelley Gas Stations. They’re everywhere.
“Right?” She puts the device down. “Oh, my god. We’re going to have to rethink your entire outfit.”
I reach over and grab her hand. “Molly, it’s fine. I mean,” I say with a laugh, “what do you think is going to happen? He’s going to fall madly in love with little old me from Aurora, Indiana? Doubtful.”
“You never know.”
“Actually, in some cases, such as this, you do. I’m a lowly steward. He probably won’t even notice me.”
“Ugh.” She hangs her head for a moment. “That’s why you make yourself get noticed.”
“I’m just going to be there to do my job. That’s it. And speaking of which, I have to work fast to get my medical clearance and all of the certificates I need before we head out.”
The rest of the evening was less fun, and she mainly just watched as I scheduled appointments and found somewhere accredited where I could get the necessary certifications.
“So, you have to get a physical like when we were younger and in sports?” she asks me later, laying on her belly on top of my bed.
I’m sitting at the chair of my vanity and looking at her in the mirror. “Kinda. If I understand everything correctly, I have to prove that I’m physically capable to do all of the tasks and assist in the evacuation of boat passengers in the event of an emergency.”
“Ah. I guess that makes sense. What about the other stuff?”
“That will teach me how to do the evacuations.”
She frowns. “Can’t you just watch The Titanic ? I, for one, got a pretty good understanding from that.”
I laugh. “Yeah, something tells me we won’t be running into any icebergs from Florida to Greece.”
“Maybe not. But I have read that the Strait of Gibraltar,” she demonstrates with her fingers, “You know, the little piece between Spain and Morocco. I’ve read that the weather there can be rocky.”
“Well, then I’ll soon know how to handle bad weather.”
“I guess. What are these classes going to cost you?”
I finish putting my night cream on before swiveling around and answering her. “Absolutely nothing. Courtesy of Shelley Publications.”
She chuckles. “That’s not what his company is called.”
“Oh.” I join her in laughter. From everything she said before, I just guessed.
“It’s The Marina & Ollie Publishing Company.”
Marina. Why does that sound so familiar?
Around a week later, with an aching body from all the rescue exercises I had to learn and do, I realize after flying into Florida where I heard the name before.
It’s written on the back of the boat I pulled up to in my Uber.
The Marina. It seems to be a recurring theme in his life. I wonder who it was. His mother or grandmother, perhaps? Or maybe a lost sister.
Nevertheless, none of that helps me determine who Ollie (of Marina & Ollie) is. As his name is a nickname, I didn’t think he’d have another one. But who knows?
When my father was still alive, he called me “Kayla-la-la head in the sky” because I was always daydreaming as a child, “Kay-ya,” which was what my brother called me when I first came home from the hospital, and many other silly little things.
“Greetings,” Captain Bryant says with his hat resting against his chest.
“Greetings.” In person and in the daylight, I can see how deep brown his hair is, and that he has kind eyes.
Someone else takes my bags, and then they both help me onto the yacht.
A man who looks to be in his middle to late twenties is already standing up there.
“Hey! Are you Kayla?” He’s tall, lean, has blond hair, big light eyes, and not much of a chin.
“I am.”
He stretches his hand out for me to shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Denver.”
“Denver.” What a cool name.
“Yes, ma’am.” He grins. “I’m the bosun.”
“Oh, okay.” I know from watching the show that makes him the senior deckhand.
“What size?” he asks.
“My what?” I’m confused.
“Your size. For clothes.”
“Oh.” My hair is back in a low ponytail, but some pieces are still blowing in my face. I try to calm them. “Sorry. I’m usually a medium.”
He rummages through a stack close by before handing me four or five changes of clothing. They are white polo shirts and khaki shorts, just like he’s wearing.
“Thanks.”
Denver then turns and waves me to follow. “I’ll show you your quarters.”
“Thank you.”
As we walk, I can’t believe the size of the yacht. In my mind, I was picturing something much smaller. I couldn’t imagine one person using or even needing such a large vessel.
“Impressive, right?” He says with his head turns over his shoulder.
“Yeah.” You could say that.
The room he shows me is quaint and plain. The wooden walls are not adorned with any decoration, and the sheets and comforter are bone white.
“It’s… nice.”
Denver bumps his shoulder with mine. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”
I glance up at him and smile.
However, our moment is cut short when a voice on the intercom requests my presence in the bridge.
Worried, I give Denver a look.
“It’s okay. Captain Bryant probably just wants to go over a few things with you. Jack can be a very particular man, so the more you know about his preferences and dislikes, the better.”
“I see.” But before we go, I check myself once over in the mirror and wonder what the hell I got myself into taking this job.