Chapter 22
DAREK
The boat building facility was housed in what used to be an old shipyard warehouse.
It was a massive structure on the waterfront that I had renovated five years ago.
It was the nautical version of a small airport complete with the equivalent of hangars.
We had three right now, but I would like to open a second location one day.
It would allow us to work on more orders.
The facility was where the magic happened.
My designs went from blueprints to actual vessels that would carry people across oceans.
I walked through the main floor, past three different projects in various stages of completion.
A sixty-footer for a client in Florida and a custom sailboat for some tech billionaire.
In another warehouse was a small yacht. It filled the space and was one of our most expensive custom orders ever.
I was keeping a close eye on the progress.
We couldn’t afford to let any detail go unnoticed.
“Mr. Sullivan,” Mike, one of my project managers, called out. “Can you take a look at this hull section? We’re having some concerns about the finish.”
I followed him over to inspect the work. Normally, I would have spent an hour examining every detail, making sure it met my exacting standards. Today, I gave it a cursory look, noted it was fine, and moved on.
“You sure?” he asked, clearly surprised by my quick assessment.
“It’s good work. You know what you’re doing.”
I made my way through the rest of the facility, checking in with each team, asking about timelines and challenges. But my mind wasn’t fully here. For the first time in my professional life, I was clock-watching, counting the minutes until I could leave.
Tonight was my first real date with Liza.
“Darek, you okay?” My friend and head of design, James, caught up with me as I was heading to my office. “You seem distracted.”
“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.”
“The custody thing?”
“That, and other things.”
James grinned knowingly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that gorgeous woman you brought to the yacht club, would it?”
“Maybe.”
“About time you started dating again. You’ve been in monk mode since Sasha left.”
I had known James for fifteen years. We were boat enthusiasts and I knew he was the guy I needed to work for me. With me, really. He was one of the few people I trusted enough to talk about personal things. And even then I kept things light.
“It’s still new,” I said.
“But you’re excited about it,” James finished. “Good for you, man. You deserve to be happy.”
It had been a long time since I had felt excited about trying a relationship again. Years, really. After Sasha, I had convinced myself that part of my life was over. I had been determined to focus on Daisie and the business and that had been enough.
But Liza had changed that. She walked into my life and made me remember what it felt like to want something beyond just getting through each day. It had been too long since I felt that spark of anticipation and nervous energy before a date.
It was nice to know Sasha and her terrible betrayal hadn’t totally killed that part of me. I could still get excited about the prospect of spending time with a woman for more than just sex. My capacity for hope and connection hadn’t been permanently damaged.
I left work early—something I almost never did—and drove home with my mind already on the evening ahead.
Melody was coming at six. She was a college sophomore studying education, great with kids, and Daisie adored her.
They would spend the evening making crafts and watching movies and eating more junk food than I probably should allow, but Daisie would have a fun night.
At home, I went straight to my room to get ready. I had made reservations at Pelican, one of the best restaurants in Cloudhaven. Not the yacht club. Too many people knew me there, which meant too many potential interruptions. I wanted Liza to myself for the evening.
I showered and shaved and actually spent a few minutes deciding what I would wear. I went with black slacks and a charcoal gray dress shirt but left off the tie. This was a date, not a business meeting. I wanted to look good without looking like I was trying too hard.
When I came downstairs, Melody had already arrived and was playing some elaborate game with Daisie that involved stuffed animals and an imaginary kingdom. They both looked up when I entered.
“Wow, Mr. Sullivan!” Melody said. “Hot date?”
“Something like that.”
Daisie jumped up and ran to me, examining my outfit critically. “You look really handsome, Daddy.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Are you taking Liza on a date?”
“I am.”
“Are you going to kiss her?”
Melody laughed, and I felt my face heat. “That’s private, kiddo.”
“But you’re boyfriend and girlfriend now, so you probably will.” She said it matter-of-factly, like she’d just stated that the sky was blue. “Emma’s brother kisses his girlfriend all the time and it’s gross.”
“I’ll try to keep the grossness to a minimum,” I said solemnly.
A sound on the stairs made us all turn.
Oh, fuck me.
Liza took my breath away.
She was wearing a dress I had never seen before.
It was dark blue, which somehow made her eyes even brighter.
It fit perfectly and showed off her curvaceous body without being too revealing.
Her hair was down in soft waves, her makeup subtle but perfect.
I remembered the conversation I eavesdropped on about makeup.
She definitely knew how to enhance her natural beauty.
“Wowzers,” Daisie breathed.
“Wow is right,” Melody agreed.
I couldn’t form words. Just stood there staring like an idiot while the most beautiful woman I had ever seen walked down my stairs.
Liza smiled, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Too much?”
“Not even close to too much,” I managed. “You look… I don’t have words.”
“That’s a good sign,” Melody whispered to Daisie, and they both giggled.
I walked over to Liza and offered my arm. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
We said goodbye to Daisie and Melody, with strict instructions that bedtime was at eight thirty, and no, she couldn’t stay up late just because I wasn’t home.
Then we walked out to my Benz. I didn’t need the bulk and safety of the SUV.
I had considered having George drive us but decided I wanted her all to myself. I knew George was discreet, but nope.
Just me and her.
Pelican was intimate and elegant without being pretentious. White tablecloths, real candles, soft music playing in the background. The kind of place where you could have a real conversation without shouting over noise.
The hostess seated us at a corner table with a view of the harbor. I ordered a bottle of wine I knew was good without being showy. When it arrived, I poured for both of us.
“To first dates,” I said, raising my glass.
“To first dates,” Liza echoed, clinking her glass against mine.
We ordered. She got the seared scallops. I got the halibut. And then we just talked. Really talked in a way we hadn’t been able to with Daisie around or the crew listening or the constant awareness that we were playing roles.
“So tell me,” I said. “How did you get into studying sea life? What made you want to spend your life thinking about whales?”
She smiled, swirling her wine. “I grew up on the coast of Oregon, this tiny town called Garibaldi. My parents fought a lot.” She stopped and corrected herself.
“Actually, that’s putting it mildly. They fought constantly.
Screaming matches, throwing things, the whole dramatic mess.
When the divorce finally happened, I wasn’t sad.
I was relieved. Until they started acting like they were in high school again.
Anyway, I spent a lot of time at the beach to get away from it all. ”
“That sounds rough.”
“It was. But the ocean became a refuge for me. It was a place where nothing mattered except the waves and the birds and occasionally spotting seals or sea lions. I would spend hours out there, just watching, and I felt more at peace than I ever did at home.” She took a sip of wine.
“When it came time for college, marine biology just made sense. I wanted to understand the thing that had saved me, in a way.”
“And whales specifically?”
“On one of our family vacations, we went to Anacortes. We were on a whale-watching cruise and of course my parents were arguing. I got to see my first whale. And I was hooked. I had never seen anything so beautiful and powerful and completely indifferent to human drama. And I thought, that’s what I want to study. ”
“I’m sorry your childhood was like that.”
“It’s okay. It made me who I am.” She smiled and then took another sip. “What about you? How does someone become a yacht builder?”
I sat back, thinking about how to explain it.
“The first time I ever felt free in my life was when I took my first boat out by myself. I was nineteen, had just bought this piece of shit motorboat with money from my first real job. It barely ran, leaked like crazy, but when I got it out on the water?” I stopped, remembering that feeling.
“Everything else disappeared. All the pressure from my parents about college, about my future, about being responsible. Out there, it was just me and the ocean and this sense of possibility.”
“So you wanted to give that feeling to other people.”
“Exactly. I started with small repairs, working my way up to custom builds. Turned out people liked what I made. Boats that were beautiful but also functional. Things took off faster than I expected.”
“And now you’re a billionaire with your own yacht line.”
“Now I’m a billionaire with his own yacht line,” I agreed. “Though most days I still feel like that nineteen-year-old kid with the leaky motorboat.”
She smiled. “I like that kid.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. He sounds like he had his priorities straight.”
Our food arrived, and we ate slowly, savoring it. The scallops were perfectly seared, the halibut flaky and delicate. Everything was perfect. The food, the wine, the conversation, her.
“There’s a launch party this weekend,” I said as we were finishing our meal. “For the first yacht from my new line. It’ll be at the club, lots of clients and industry people.”
She nodded. “I should probably get another dress. I don’t want to wear the same one.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I can have George take you into the city or just look online and they’ll deliver it.”
She laughed. “Just use your name?”
“Damn straight,” I said.
“I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”
I could tell by her expression she was not looking forward to the idea of going. I didn’t blame her.
“It won’t be like that cocktail party. I’ll make sure security keeps the photographers away, and you’ll actually know some people this time. And Sasha won’t be there.”
“Darek, I’d go even if it was going to be terrible. Because I want to be there for you.”
“Thank you.”
After dinner, I didn’t want the evening to end. “Want to walk on the beach? There’s a path from the restaurant down to the shore.”
“In these heels?”
“I’ll carry you if I have to.”
She laughed. “I’ll just take off the heels. It’ll do me good to get my toes in the sand.”
We made our way down to the beach. Liza did take off her heels, carrying them as we walked along the shoreline. The moon was nearly full, reflecting off the water, and the sound of waves created a soundtrack that was better than any music.
Romantic moonlit walks on the beach.
The saying was on every dating profile, but I never really thought about what that looked like. Until now. I got it. There was just something too good about the privacy. The intimacy.
“This has been perfect,” Liza said, slipping her hand into mine. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Thank you for saying yes.”
“I couldn’t say no. Not to you.”
I stopped walking and turned to face her. “You’ve gotten under my skin, Liza Jefferies.”
“Good,” she said, stepping closer. “Because you’ve gotten under mine too.”
I kissed her. Nothing too passionate, just a kiss that told her I was into her.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both smiling.
“We should probably get back,” I said.
“Five more minutes,” she said slightly breathless.
I would give her five-hundred minutes if that was what she wanted.
We made out like teenagers. I felt her heels hit the top of my shoe and then her hands were running through my hair.
I wanted her. Desperately. But I was too old to be trying to get sand out of my ass crack.
I had a perfectly good bed and that was where I wanted her.
“Should we go home?” I murmured against her lips.
She knew what I was really asking. “Absolutely. I think we should hurry.”
We practically ran back to the car hand in hand, both of us grinning like idiots.