Chapter 8 #3
hallucination and Gabe Olson wasn’t actually standing ten feet away from her looking like an ad for luring a bunch of horny
women onto a booze cruise. But alas, that was exactly what was happening.
“ Hi, Gabe ,” the chorus sang, and Emmy felt a confusing stab of... what, jealousy? She couldn’t be sure, but when Gabe gave them a shy
wave and full on blushed, her belly flipped in a surprising and traitorous way.
“Hi, ladies,” he said.
Captain Carl clapped his hands. “Okay, so a few safety instructions before we head out. You’ve probably noticed the wind picked up tonight, so things are a little choppy out there.
I’ll keep us close to the shore to limit too much motion, but please be extra mindful of using the rails and watching your step.
We don’t want anyone going overboard because then Gabe will have to jump in after you, and that would mess up his hair.
” He reached over and tried to muss Gabe’s signature gelled wave, but Gabe fought him off with his arm.
Someone wolf whistled and a few others cheered like the idea of being rescued sounded appealing.
That same stab hit Emmy again.
Captain Carl laughed. “I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, we’re here to keep you safe while you have fun tonight. So, some
ground rules...”
They all listened as he described safety instructions and demonstrated how to use a life vest. Emmy had sat with Piper in
the back of the crowd, and she kept her eyes on Gabe during the whole presentation, praying he didn’t notice her. By some
miracle, he didn’t.
She thought she was in the clear and could spend the rest of the night avoiding him, until Captain Carl said, “All right,
that about covers it. Now, where’s the maid of honor who planned this whole thing? We need that playlist so we can plug in
and get moving.”
A cheer rose from the boozed-up bridesmaids ready to continue the night as all heads swiveled to Emmy.
Piper pushed her up out of her seat and hollered “She’s right here!” to cheering.
The moon suddenly shone on Emmy like a spotlight. The universe narrowed to the short distance between her and Gabe, and if
she thought perhaps he wouldn’t recognize her in a dress and heels because he only ever saw her at work in jeans and computer
glasses, she was sorely mistaken. She couldn’t tell if his look of shock was due to her appearance or simply the utterly unbelievable
coincidence they were on the same boat. He blinked like imminent roadkill. His lips popped open. No one except her noticed
how intently he was staring at her, and to his credit, he kept the sheer shock contained.
“Excellent,” Captain Carl said. “If you’ll just share that list with Gabe here, we’ll get underway. Ladies, the boat is open.”
The group collectively threw their arms in the air with a cheer.
Gloria stuck her hand up as well. “Follow me to the bar!” she called over the sound, knowing exactly what they all wanted.
The group filed into line to make their way to the back of the boat, where the dance floor and drinks waited. As they cleared
out, the space between Emmy and Gabe got emptier and emptier, with fewer excuses for not interacting.
Piper noticed. She squeezed Emmy’s arm before she followed the rest of their guests, leaning in to quietly speak. “Offer still
stands to push him overboard. Let me know if you need me.”
Emmy chortled a strangled laugh, tempted again. “Thanks. But I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Because I’m going to go get shit-faced.” She winked and sauntered off.
And then it was only Emmy and Gabe staring at each other from across the bow.
He seemed unable to peel his eyes off her. She felt them touring her bare legs and the slit in her dress. They bounced up
to her face, and he swallowed hard. “Hey.” His voice came out gravelly and half there. He cleared his throat and started again.
“Hey. I didn’t know you were part of this party tonight.”
“Hey,” she said back, absolutely thrumming with awkwardness. “You didn’t tell me your cousin owned this charter company.”
“I didn’t think I had reason to,” he said, still looking stunned.
They kept staring at each other, adrift in a strange space in so many ways.
“So,” he eventually said. “The music.”
“Oh, right,” Emmy said, honestly having forgotten they had a job to do.
He waved her over. “Follow me.”
She followed him toward the main cabin where he turned into a small enclave lit up with a wall of radio and PA equipment.
“iPod?” he asked, and held out his hand.
She fished it out of her tote bag, momentarily mortified when it tangled on a glow-in-the-dark penis necklace she frantically
shoved back down inside. From the tiny laugh that escaped his lips, she knew he’d seen it. “Here you go,” she said, a bit
flustered, and presented it to him.
“Thank you.” He plugged it in and tapped the screen. “Which playlist?”
“There’s only one on there.” She’d purchased the device specifically for this purpose because she liked the idea of gifting
it to her sister after the fact as a keepsake from the night.
“Got it,” he said, and hit play.
When throwback Britney blared out of the speakers to a roaring cheer, Gabe and Emmy stared at each other. A sense of embarrassment
curled inside Emmy’s belly; she wasn’t sure why. There was nothing inherently embarrassing about Britney or booze or penis
necklaces, but somehow all those things in front of Gabe Olson made her want to leap into the bay and swim to Mexico. Maybe
it was because professional boundaries governed their relationship. He’d toed that line when he brought her breakfast after
clobbering her with a baseball, but that was different. This was him seeing her fully exposed on a night out with friends
and fully embracing the femininity she worked so hard to shield them all from at work.
As if he were reading her mind, Gabe gave her a shy but sincere look. “Emmy, um. I know you’re here for your sister’s party
and this night is supposed to be fun, so just ignore me, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”
She appreciated him saying it and felt a twinge of guilt for being so obvious in her discomfort.
“Thanks,” she said. She turned to join the party when a thought made her turn back. “Oh, could you—?” She cut off, embarrassed
by the request.
“Could I what?”
Her face had become a lit fire again. She desperately needed to visit Gloria at the bar. “Could you please not tell anyone
at work about anything that happens here tonight?”
“Hey,” he said, and pretended to twist a key in front of his lips. “What happens on Captain Carl’s boat stays on Captain Carl’s
boat.”
Despite herself, she laughed in relief. “Thank you.”
“Enjoy the party.”
Emmy did enjoy the party. At least until she heard the unmistakable sound of someone puking halfway through.
She’d limited her own alcohol intake as the responsible older sister while the bride and everyone else got hammered. They’d
danced, they’d belted 2000s pop classics, they’d eaten cupcakes with purple penis sprinkles. With the boat’s heaters and all
the booze, they’d created quite the cozy little island on their dance floor. Outside of the pocket, the wind whipped and left
the water restless with whitecaps. Emmy didn’t realize how much the boat was rocking until she left the dance floor to head
to the bathroom.
On her way back, she heard the telltale retch and splash of someone hurling overboard. The thought of ignoring it tempted
her to keep walking, but what kind of MOH would that make her if she didn’t hold back someone’s hair in her moment of need?
Gripping the handrail, Emmy breached the pocket and braved the chilly air on the starboard side of the boat. She looked both
ways when she entered the walkway—forward, toward the bow, and backward toward the noisy party—and expected to see one of
her sister’s scantily clad friends losing her dinner over the rail, but instead she saw someone else.
“Olson?” she asked toward his dark shape slumped over the rail. Gabe held his forehead in one hand and leaned on his other forearm. Spray from the rough water splashed up onto him. He turned at the sound of her voice, and even from a distance, Emmy could see the complete misery on his pale face.
“ Oh god ,” he muttered and leaned back over the rail. “Please don’t watch me puke, Jameson.”
The agony in his voice drew her toward him. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”
He squeezed his eyes shut like it was taking all his strength not to heave again. “Yes, I need this boat to stop swaying and
I need you to please leave me alone.”
She reached across the walkway to the rail he was leaning on and firmly gripped it. He was right; the boat was swaying out
here. “You know,” she said as she carefully inched her way toward him, “it’s much less choppy back where we are.”
“Yes, but I told you I’d stay out of your way.” He spoke through gritted teeth and then blew out a long, slow breath.
Emmy jerked back in surprise. “Wait. You’re out here puking because of me ?”
“No. I’m out here puking because I get seasick.”
She reeled in further confusion. “Then why... are you on a boat?”
The poor guy deeply inhaled and squeezed his eyes shut, not in frustration but in an effort to soothe his illness. “Because
Carl needed my help.” He rushed out the words in a single stream before breathing deeply once more.
Again, she inched closer. Her hand gripped the rail half a foot from him. “You mean you volunteered for this job knowing you’d
get sick?”
“I was hoping I wouldn’t, but yes. It’s not usually this rough out here.” He squeezed the rail again as they hit a wave and
a splash of mist leapt up to greet them.
Emmy reeled for a whole different reason. “Wow. That’s incredibly selfless of you.”
“Maybe, but I’m starting to rethink it. Oh god. Please don’t stay here for this.” He leaned over the rail again, and before she could stop herself, she reached out and pressed her hand to his back and gently rubbed.
“Hey, you carried me off the field when I couldn’t walk. This isn’t as bad as that.”