Chapter Nine #2
Her calm voice is a stark contrast to the one we just heard inside her stateroom. Beth tosses her book on the bed and scoots to the edge. I sit up as she stands to open the door.
“Hey,” Emma steps inside, her face slightly flushed. Otherwise, she displays no trace of the anger we overheard. “Oh.” She stops, seeing me on the bed. “I thought you were on the deck.”
I fight not to scrunch up my face. Despite Emma’s pleasantries yesterday, I wonder if she still carries a grudge for thinking I covered up for Courtney. I swallow the guilt that rises to the back of my throat. After all this time, I’ve never told Emma the truth.
Emma glances behind her before motioning to Beth. “Close the door,” she says in a lowered tone.
Beth obliges. “What is it?”
Emma casts me a wary gaze before perching on the end of the bed. She bends one knee onto the mattress, twisting to face both of us.
“It’s Adam.” Her tone is hushed, barely above a whisper. “Didn’t the captain say he had years of sailing experience?”
“Yeah. Why?” Beth folds her arms and sits beside Emma.
“Because”—Emma glances at me—“just now, on the deck, the captain told him to ease out the jib.”
Beth’s eyebrows crease together. “What’s a jib?”
“The headsail.” Emma points toward the bow. “Anyway, after Adam let the sail out, he wrapped the jib sheet counterclockwise around the winch.”
Beth and I exchange a look of confusion.
“So?” Beth asks.
Emma’s eyes widen. “You never wrap a line counterclockwise on a sailboat!” She runs a hand through her short curls. “It’s like the first thing they teach you.”
“Maybe he just made a mistake,” Beth says. “It’s pretty rough out there.”
Emma lifts her gaze to the windowed hatch over our heads. “Fortunately, Captain Nojan caught him doing it and made him redo it the right way. At least the captain seems to know what he’s doing.”
Beth laughs. “Gigi told me yesterday that she requested a hot deckhand. I thought she was joking, but maybe she really did. It wouldn’t surprise me, knowing Gigi and the way she’s been drooling over him.
“I agree that the captain is obviously competent,” Beth adds. “So, Adam just needs to be able to take instructions, right? Maybe he has more experience as an onboard chef.”
Emma chews her lip. “I suppose so. The meatballs he made last night were amazing.”
I picture the angles of Adam’s jaw, and again I feel the sense of déjà vu that spread through me two nights ago when he smiled. “Do you think there’s something familiar about him?” I ask Emma.
She shakes her head. “No, why?”
“I feel like I’ve seen him before, but I can’t place where.”
“I told her it’s because he looks like Chris Pratt,” Beth says.
“He does,” I say. “But I still feel like I know him from somewhere.”
Emma gestures toward me. “Don’t you work at a hospital? Maybe he was a patient.”
I stare at the wooden cabin door. “Maybe.” But he doesn’t seem to know me.
“Hey, guys,” Gigi’s soft voice sounds on the other side of our cabin door.
Emma stands and opens it, pressing one hand against the wall as the boat shifts.
Gigi looks pale, her skin nearly the same shade as the oatmeal-colored Lululemon hoodie she has her hands jammed into.
Gigi lifts her aviators to the top of her sun hat, revealing cheeks heavily caked with blush—a failed attempt to hide her seasick pallor. In fact, I think she’s made it worse.
“I want to get a group photo on the deck.”
“Can we do it later?” Beth lifts her book. “I’m reading, and Palmer’s trying to take a nap.”
Gigi shakes her head. “Sorry, I have to post it when my followers are most active.”
Beth groans.
“It won’t take long,” Gigi adds.
Emma follows her out of our cabin. “My producer is on me to get a post out anyway.”
“Come on.” I tug Beth’s arm, lowering my voice. “It’s just a photo. Plus, her sponsor’s paying for this whole trip.”
“Okay, fine.” Beth stands, and we pull on our life vests.
As I climb the stairs, the boat dips, and I reach for the handle mounted to the wall to keep from falling backward onto Beth.
The wind whips my ponytail in front of my eyes when we reach the deck.
After pushing my hair back, I spot Captain Nojan at the helm.
Adam, wearing a matching navy polo, is stationed a few feet in front of the captain, letting slack out on a line.
“Hey, Adam,” Nojan says. “I need you to take the helm.”
My gaze lingers on Adam as he wraps the line around a winch three times—clockwise, I note—before turning for the large steering wheel near the stern.
“Passing the helm,” Nojan says when Adam reaches him.
Nojan steps aside for Adam to take his place behind the wheel.
“Taking the helm,” Adam says.
I study Adam’s long tanned fingers gripping the steering wheel.
Before I can stop myself, I start imagining how his hands would feel running over my body.
I lift my gaze to Adam’s face as he catches me looking at him.
He maintains eye contact for an uncomfortable moment until I look away.
My heart flutters as my eyes fall to my wedding ring, glittering in the sun.
Why was he staring at me like that? Did he like me looking at him?
It’s hard to imagine he’d be attracted to me with Gigi parading around her perfect body.
Maybe he was trying to make me feel uncomfortable after catching me staring at him.
I follow Emma toward Gigi, who is seated in the covered cockpit taking a series of photos with her selfie stick. Beth stumbles forward, bumping into my back as the boat sways from a large swell.
“Sorry, Palm,” she says, sliding onto the nearest bench beside Emma.
“I need you to keep us on a broad reach while I use the head,” Nojan says to Adam, pointing at the weather vane at the top of the towering mast. “The wind’s starting to shift to the northeast, so make sure you head up if we start sailing by the lee.”
“Got it.”
I study Adam, who looks confidently at the navigation screens mounted above the wheel as Nojan moves past me to the companionway. Emma’s concerns over Adam’s inexperience play at my mind, making me wonder if we’re all a little paranoid after our rafting trip.
Whitecaps have formed on the growing swells beyond the boat. I shade my eyes with my hand to gaze at the horizon, pivoting to take in the water all around us. My arms prickle with goose bumps. The coast has disappeared. We’re surrounded by choppy seas as far as the eye can see.
The floor shifts beneath my feet. I reach for the table to steady myself.
“Palmer.” I turn to the sound of Gigi’s voice.
“You sit here,” Gigi points to the open spot beside Beth and climbs onto the deck behind the bench. “Emma and I will sit up here.” Gigi sinks to her knees as I sit.
“Ready?” Gigi asks once Emma is on the deck beside her.
Gigi extends her arm, lifting her phone above our heads with the aid of her selfie stick. “Smile!”
I lean into Beth and beam at the camera, filled with a strange sense of familiarity of when we reached the trailhead the morning of our fateful hike and Courtney took a photo of all of us for the last time.
A second later, Gigi lowers her phone. “Oh, Palmer! You got cut off. Hang on guys, let me take another.”
After we do another take, I lift my eyes to the mainsail flapping in the wind.
“The mainsail is luffing,” Emma says.
I crane my neck to see Emma frowning as she looks up at the weather vane. I follow her gaze, seeing the arrow pointing straight behind us.
Emma turns toward the helm as Gigi gets to her feet.
“Everyone stay where they are,” Gigi says. “I’m going to grab a quick video pan of all of us.”
“Hey, Adam?” Emma calls, pointing toward the large sail. “We’re heading straight downwind, and the mainsail’s luffing.”
Gigi shrieks as a gust of wind comes over the side of the boat. I spin to see her sun hat fly off. She twists and lurches forward, reaching for her hat blowing toward the bow.
“Gigi, watch out!” Emma screams as Gigi steps onto the elevated roof of the saloon while her hat lifts higher into the air.
And that’s when I see it. The boom swings over our heads from the force of the wind, straight toward Gigi. Gigi turns to the sound of Emma’s scream as the boom smacks her in the temple.
I gasp as Gigi stumbles backward, falling off the raised platform onto the deck. Her selfie stick clamors to the deck beside her.
“Gigi, don’t!” Emma cries.
I grip Beth’s arm as we watch Gigi roll to grab her phone before it slips over the edge.
The boat turns violently, heeling toward the ocean on our side. Keeping hold of the lifeline, Emma reaches for Gigi with her other hand.
“Gigi!” Adam yells, rushing toward her in my periphery.
But he’s too late. Gigi rolls under the lifeline—into the water—as the bow lifts over a large swell.