Chapter 14
ROWAN
Christmas Day
I focused all my time and efforts on my family.
The tension with Andrew was still there, but I fastidiously ignored it.
I channeled my frustration into windsurfing, paddleboarding and swimming competitions with my siblings.
We made day trips to Anguilla and St. Barth’s.
Andrew arranged shopping excursions, scuba diving lessons, and tours around the islands.
It was one of the best weeks I’d had with my family in a very long time – well, outside of the fact that I was a grumpy git because Andrew and I were acting like polite strangers.
My father kept asking me what was wrong, but I would deflect and change the subject. Rafe noted my predicament and distracted my family as needed with his outlandish antics.
Today, I stood at the head of the dining table on the bridge deck with a wine glass in hand, surveying the group of twelve people gathered.
Gold and red decorations abounded, with large pillar candles and a lush centerpiece of red roses scenting the air.
Sparkling gold streamers hung from the ceiling and the nearby railings, and the total effect was festive in the early afternoon sun.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining me on this beautiful Christmas Day. My family by blood and my work family. While many people are watching the snow fall and sipping hot buttered rum, we’re gathered outside on a hot, sunny day here in the Caribbean, drinking cold champagne.
Personally, I think we got it right.” I laughed, and everyone joined in.
“A special thanks to my crew, for their unparalleled effort in putting this feast together and for your tireless work every day. Merry Christmas, everyone! Enjoy.”
“Cheers!”
“Sláinte!”
Instead of having my family at one end of the table and the crew at the other, Andrew had interspersed the seating, creating an interesting arrangement for conversation.
We started with the colorful paper crackers adorning each plate, snapping one open to reveal a small gift, a printed joke, and a paper hat.
Much as it was ridiculous wearing a purple paper hat, I took comfort in the knowledge that everyone else looked just as silly.
Even the stern-faced George. Andrew and Rafe took great delight in taking as many pictures as they could, including several of me, comparing shots and snickering like unruly teenagers. Those two are trouble together.
I was a bit chafed by how quickly Rafe and Andrew clicked, but my brother charmed everyone he met and so did Andrew, and a troublesome alliance was born.
Andrew was seated next to Rafe, but I could only hear bits of their conversation.
Most of it was laughter. Suddenly I was grinched.
It should be me sitting next to Andrew, whispering in his ear, making him laugh.
The green-eyed monster had taken hold of me, and I clenched my wine stem so tight I was surprised it didn’t snap in two.
Rafe was conversing in his usual animated manner as he ate, with one hand shoveling in food and the other moving about until he accidentally knocked over George’s champagne glass.
“Oh shite, I’m so sorry,” Rafe murmured, but Andrew was already wiping down the mess.
“It’s all right,” George replied tersely, his face turning bright red. “But perhaps you should pay more attention to your surroundings the next time you’re seated at a crowded table.”
Oh no. Rafe had a congenial personality, but tell him what to do or how to act and look out.
“Excuse me for being enthusiastic about my conversation, Captain Crunch. I’m sorry I don’t have your limited communication skills of grunts and glares,” Rafe bit out as a stare down erupted.
“No, of course not. Just a talent for irresponsible antics and getting naked in front of strangers,” George snapped.
Bloody hell, I’d never heard George say anything like that in front of a table full of guests. I moved to get up, but Rafe glared at me and waved me off. All right then Rafe, fight your own battle.
Rafe tucked a long piece of hair behind his ear, and George’s eyes followed the movement. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were living in the Victorian era. Should I button this shirt up to my neck and wear a cock cage?”
Gasps, chuckles, and bellowing laughter erupted around the table.
This was way more entertaining than playing cards.
I glanced around and noticed Da laughing, Mum rubbing her forehead, Cara tapping away on her phone (probably taking notes for her next book), Rebecca blushing, and most of the crew members trying to stifle their laughter.
“A muzzle would be more appropriate in your case,” George barked, his green eyes glowing and a large vein in his forehead visibly pulsing.
Rafe pointed one finger at George, who looked mad enough to bite it off. “Better a muzzle than a permanent butt plug like you. Maybe if you removed that very large anchor out of your arse, you’d have fun and stop ruining others’.”
As humorous as this catty dialogue was, I needed to put a stop to it before things got out of control. Like before Rafe took the fork that he was gripping tightly and stabbed George with it.
“Okay, I think that’s enough entertainment for one evening,” I interjected as I stood up. “It’s Christmas, so can we please put our differences aside for one day and have an amicable lunch? After all, this is not the Real Housewives of the Caribbean.”
“Why not? I’d make a great fucking housewife, minus the fake tits,” Rafe joked, and everyone, save George, laughed.
I looked imploringly at Andrew, who successfully commandeered Rafe’s attention again and steered him away from George’s wrath.
“To get us into the Christmas spirit, Andrew kindly thought of a few Christmas games we can play round the table. First off, we’ll go through the alphabet, and each person will have five seconds to name a Christmas word that starts with their letter.
If they can’t call out, they have to drink.
You can choose your beverage of choice, it doesn’t have to be alcohol—it’s entirely your preference.
But given recent antics, alcohol might be favorable…
Okay, we’ll start at my left with Cassie. A. Go!”
He pointed at her, and she sat open-mouthed until she snapped her fingers. “Antler!”
“Da, you’re next.”
“B. Bah humbug!” his father yelled out.
“Good, next.”
“Christmas!” Charlie blurted out, and everyone groaned.
“Not fair! He got an easy one!” Rafe complained.
We continued with the game, Cara and I being the only two who had a difficult time coming up with words.
Everyone teased us mercilessly, the writer and the billionaire, for our poor performances.
Luckily the game was fast with twelve of us and only twenty-six letters in the alphabet, otherwise I’d be snogged by now.
We played a few more games, which my competitive siblings won.
To finish dinner, Lisette brought out the plum pudding and carefully set it aflame to the delight, and safety, of everyone.
After late lunch, we spread out on the various decks and took turns swimming and using the water toys.
I stood alone on the sundeck, leaning against the railing and trying to keep my tongue from rolling out when I saw Andrew climb out of the water in his tiny speedo, his black hair slicked back, water dripping down his abs.
Andrew turned around on the dock and bent over to pick up his towel, and I stifled a needy moan at those round cheeks on display just begging to be touched.
And licked. And fucked. I was ravenous again and tightened the large towel around my waist to hide my reaction.
A sharp elbow to my back reminded me that there were other people about, watching.
“Caught you,” Rafe whispered as he sauntered up beside me and winked. “Make your move tonight.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Andrew works for me!” I hissed. Luckily, we were the only two around and far enough away from curious ears.
Rafe flopped down out on a lounger and patted the one next to him. I followed suit.
“I know that. All he talks about is you. How smart you are, how funny, blah, blah, blah. Here I am, an in-demand fashion model, more beautiful than any other man on board, giving him all my attention, and he goes on about you. Cheeky nut.” Rafe smiled.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re missing the point. He’s my…”
“Yes, yes. I heard you,” Rafe interrupted and waved his hand about. “Please, I’ve shagged many of my bosses. Photographers, art directors, fashion designers. Too many to count. The last guy was...”
“Stop. TMI.”
“TMI?” Rafe asked as he lifted his sunglasses and stared at me. “Do you even know what that means? And what have you done with serious, all-work Rowan?”
“Hilarious. Why don’t you, Andrew, and Dylan go on tour with your Three Stooges act. Honestly, you’re a trio of comedians, poking fun at me.” I paused. “And didn’t you ever worry about the repercussions of sleeping with your boss? I have a duty to my employees to maintain a standard of behavior.”
“That’s way too many big words for me to comprehend all at once, Ro,” Rafe chuckled, then his gaze turned serious. “Look, I can only speak to my experience, but I’m not in your shoes, I don’t run a company. If you’re concerned, wait until he leaves this job, then make your move.”
“Dylan said something similar – instead of waiting, he suggested I fire him. But I can’t do that. Andrew needs this job for reasons that I can’t divulge, and he can’t go home until the end of this contract.” I sighed. “He’s also reluctant for another, more personal reason.”
Rafe nodded. “He told me about his vicious ex. What a twat.”
“Then you see that it’s pointless. Why ruin a good working relationship and a new friendship over a few rounds of earth-shattering sex?”
“Earth-shattering?”
“Oh, please. Andrew and I practically vibrate every time we’re near each other.”