Chapter 8 #2
Emmy had booked three hours on a boat that would ferry them around the bay, from the Coronado Bridge over to Point Loma and
back. It had an open bar, snacks, a playlist she’d carefully curated and transported on an iPod to hand over to the crew,
and their own private, floating dance floor.
The only hiccup in the otherwise perfect night was the wind. San Diego Bay sat nearly entirely protected from open water given
its shape, but as soon as they stepped onto the correct pier in the harbor, all ten of them glommed together into a huddle
with a shiver.
“Are there heaters on this boat?” Piper asked as she squeezed herself against Emmy. The two of them brought up the rear of
the pack, clacking along the dock toward their boat behind the fragrant cloud of feather-boa-draped, laughing women in front
of them.
“Yes,” Emmy said. It was something she’d confirmed with the company in the event of this exact scenario.
She knew her sister would not want to sully her bride-to-be outfit—a strapless white minidress with a lace bodice—with a jacket simply because they were going out on the water.
The day had been warm, but a wind had whipped up and turned even the bay a little choppy.
“Good,” Piper said with a clatter of her teeth. Emmy worried she was unhappy about the weather despite it being out of anyone’s
control, but then she lit up and squealed at the sight of the boat bobbing alongside the dock. “Oh my god ! It’s perfect !” She hopped a little skip as they fell in line behind the other women making their way up the gangplank.
Their modest-size charter—it comfortably fit thirty people; Emmy wanted plenty of room to move—floated alongside the pier
trussed up like a little Christmas tree. At her request, the crew had outfitted it in sparkling lights and streamers. A banner
with gold letters exclaiming Congrats, Piper! hung over the covered dance floor section at the stern. Bundles of balloons hung like shiny grapes from the ceiling and poles.
“It does look perfect,” Emmy said with a smile.
Piper squealed again and squeezed Emmy’s arm. “Thank you so much, Em. I love it! You are the best MOH ever!”
The reflex to roll her eyes surprisingly did not hit Emmy at her sister pronouncing the acronym. She was too wrapped up in
the night’s spirit and honestly having a great time.
“You’re welcome, Pipes.”
They boarded the boat, and Emmy glanced back at the city behind them. The wind at least was keeping the marine layer away,
leaving the downtown lights glittering in an array of heights and colors. The moon lazed in a thick crescent above it. The
USS Midway loomed gargantuan and mighty at the next pier over. The historic aircraft carrier and museum permanently docked in the bay made their boat seem comically small by comparison, and at seeing it up close, Emmy wondered as she did every time how something so large even managed to float.
“Welcome aboard, ladies,” a voice called from up ahead. “Please, make your way to the front of the boat for some safety instructions
before we get underway.”
They followed instructions, oohing and awing and clinging to one another for warmth and support as they left dry land for the wobble of water. Emmy had intentionally worn
block heels for that exact reason. She wasn’t about to snap an ankle or fall overboard in stilettos because she’d had a few
drinks on a boat. Judging by the communal sway of the other women and the strength with which her sister gripped her arm,
she was pretty far behind the rest of them on drinks anyway. Which was also part of the plan. Someone had to make sure the
night went off without a hitch, and as MOH, that duty fell to her. But on the outside, she looked the part for the party.
Her sparkly emerald-green cocktail dress hugged her curves and had a daring slit up her thigh. She’d braided her hair into
a wreath with a few dangling tendrils, knowing the ocean air would frizz it into a cloud if she didn’t take precautionary
measures. She’d donned a purple feather boa and carried a tote bag with the rest of the party favors she’d saved for after
dark and the iPod with the playlist. She was ready .
Except, when she and Piper fully stepped onto the boat, she froze in shock.
“Oh my god.” Emmy gasped at the sight of a man in a tight black polo up ahead. She knew those arms. And that hair. And that
charming smile he was giving everyone who walked past.
What the holy hell was Gabe Olson doing on her sister’s bachelorette party boat?
Emmy blinked in complete shock several times, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She wasn’t drunk enough to be imagining
it. It was him.
The urge to hide hit her like a truck, but there was nowhere to go unless she dove overboard, and she’d spent way too much time on her hair and makeup for that. Out of desperation, she tried to seal herself to the boat’s cabin wall but only succeeded in nearly tripping her sister behind her.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” Piper said, and reached out to balance herself.
“Sorry,” Emmy hissed. “It’s—” She cut off and leaned over to peer down the walkway toward the front of the boat as far as
she could without being seen.
“It’s what?” Piper said, and leaned over too.
Emmy’s heart was positively pounding, and she suddenly wished she’d partaken in the dinner cocktails as much as everyone else
to numb the shock of seeing her co-worker in the absolute least expected place on earth.
How was this even happening?
She nodded toward the bow of the boat. “That guy up there? The one in the black shirt? That’s Gabe Olson. From work.”
Piper’s face folded in confusion as she leaned to look. Then her eyes popped wide. “Wait, that’s Gabe Olson? That absolute thirst trap standing up there by the captain?”
“Yes! Stop staring.” Emmy clawed at Piper’s arms to pull her back.
“Sorry. It’s just, you never mentioned he’s a total smokeshow. Damn , Em . I pictured some stats nerd with questionable hygiene and smudged glasses. More like Gabe the Babe .” She was practically drooling.
“Piper!” Emmy said. “Remember your fiancé? Ben? And that your pending marriage to him is the impetus for this party?”
Piper tore her eyes away and shook herself. “Right. Sorry. But what’s your work nemesis doing on my party boat?”
Emmy was wondering the same thing. Was it some kind of prank? Had he followed her? Why would he even do either of those things?
And then she remembered what Gabe had said to her that morning they had breakfast in her apartment.
“His cousin owns a charter company, and Gabe’s been helping out because one of the crew is away dealing with family. Oh my god.” She knocked her head back on the cabin wall as the pieces clicked into place. “I had no idea it was this charter company. Pipes, I’m so sorry.”
Piper frowned. “What are you apologizing to me for? I don’t have a problem with the guy unless he’s being mean to you, in
which case, I’ll shove him overboard if you want me to.”
The tempting idea spun a circle in Emmy’s mind. The thought of Gabe Olson bobbing in the bay on a chilly night was rather
appealing. But if he was on the boat in an official capacity, assaulting a crew member was probably grounds for losing her
security deposit.
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
Piper squeezed her hands with a smile and shrug. “Fine. Then let’s ignore him and have a good time.”
Emmy wasn’t sure how she was supposed to have a good time while trapped on a boat with Gabe Olson—especially since the thought
of him seeing her wearing one of the glow-in-the-dark penis necklaces she’d ordered for the occasion made her want to curl
up and die.
But her sister vibrated with excitement beside her, ready to get the party started. And Emmy would not ruin her sister’s party.
She took a deep, determined breath and continued walking. “Okay.”
They joined the rest of the women, who’d flung themselves on the cushioned seats lining the open deck at the bow like a pride
of feral cats. Emmy couldn’t help noticing them all staring at Gabe and the captain and all but licking their lips. Honestly,
she couldn’t blame them.
The captain wore a captain’s uniform complete with epaulets and a white cap. On closer inspection, Gabe’s shirt had the charter
company logo stitched over his heart. The sleeves still cuffed his arms in a way that made Emmy bite her lip. He otherwise
wore black pants and the same boat shoes he’d had on in her apartment when he’d come over for breakfast the previous Saturday.
She wondered if it was physically possible to go three hours on a small boat without running into him. Chances did not seem
high.
The third member of the crew was a stocky woman with sleeve tattoos and a pixie cut. She wore the same shirt as Gabe and an
apron, which Emmy assumed meant she was the bartender.
“Ladies, welcome aboard,” the captain said. “I’m your captain, Carl. You can call me Captain Carl.” He held out his arms in
welcome and smiled at them all. Emmy immediately saw the family resemblance. Even if he hadn’t been standing beside Gabe,
it was there in his winning grin, his dark but sparkling eyes, his arched cheekbones. The Olson family ran flush with good
genes. She could tell Carl was older, maybe by a decade. He wore signs of a sea life on his face: crinkles at the corners
of his eyes, sun-darkened skin, a peppering of gray in his stubble. Every bit of it worked in his favor.
After his introduction, the flock of women responded with a flirty chorus of, “ Hi, Captain Carl ,” followed by bubbling giggles.
“Hello,” he said with a chuckling laugh. “I’ll quickly introduce the rest of the crew here. This is Gloria, who will be helping
you with food and drinks.” The woman gave a friendly wave and smile. Carl gripped Gabe’s shoulder and shook it. “And this
is my first mate, Gabe.”
The sound of his name drove a sharp spear of reality into Emmy’s brain. Until that moment, she’d still hoped it was a bizarre