Chapter 3 #3
Jermaine came out carrying a tray and set it down on the table. He set plates in front of them. “Burgers á la Camille.”
The fries glistened, still hot. Austen picked one up. “These smell amazing.”
“Camille is a Michelin-rated chef. Wanted to live in the Caribbean. She has a place in St. Kitts but works for me when I take the boat out.”
Austen reached for the ketchup bottle, doctoring her burger. Now that she’d doused her burger, he didn’t have the heart to tell her that Camille had probably made it perfectly.
“I didn’t realize you grew up in the Minneapolis area.” She recapped the bottle.
“Absolutely. In a neighborhood called New Hope. It’s on the northwest side of the city.”
She frowned. “Really? I thought... I don’t know. I guess I don’t know how to say this?—”
“That I came from family money? No.” He cut his burger in half.
“I graduated without cash for college, joined the Marines, then went to school on the GI Bill. Sort of.” He picked up his burger.
The juices dripped off it, and suddenly his stomach came to life.
“I actually dropped out halfway through and got involved in my tech company. It was called MapGrid Solutions—helped companies enhance their visibility on digital maps with photos and detailed promotional offers and updates.”
“Wow.”
“We sold it a couple years later for millions.” He put the burger down. “First time I realized that I liked negotiating and strategizing as much as inventing things.”
She’d gobbled down her burger. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”
“After twenty-four hours at sea?” He stared out into the blackness, back at her. “You must have been terrified.”
She picked up a french fry. “I just... I can’t think about it.” She smiled, but it looked forced.
Right.
“I just kept praying, saying the twenty-third psalm, and believing that God would send someone.” She pointed the fry at him.
Heat poured through him, landed in his soul. Her beautiful gaze found his, and again he heard, “You’re a surprising man, Declan.”
Surprising good, he hoped. So many ways that could go, really...
Teresa came out of the bridge, walked over to the table. “Sir, we’re looking at a clogged fuel filter. Raphael is going to change it, but it’ll take a bit.”
“Tuck the Invictus in for the night, Teresa, and we’ll start off tomorrow.”
After Teresa had walked away, Austen leaned back in her chair, her meal finished. “Off to where?”
Oh. “I would like to say Key West, but the Jamesons need to get to Mariposa for a court date.”
“They told me when we went diving last week. Jamal and Kemar’s adoption.”
“Yes. But as soon as we reach the island, I can arrange a flight for you. I hope you... uh... don’t mind sticking around for a few days.”
He couldn’t read her eyes, the way she considered him. “Where did you get the name Invictus ?”
Oh. He frowned at her sudden change in topic.
“Actually, I named her after my mother. She was a single mom. The word means resilience, strength, even an indomitable spirit. Especially in tough times. That was my mom. She never got to see the boat—but I think she would have loved it.” He’d finished his meal, and Jermaine appeared to take his plate.
“She passed when I was serving in Afghanistan.”
She cocked her head as if taking in that information. Then, “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“It was sudden. Heart attack. I took leave, sold the house...” He sighed. “Probably returned to duty too quickly, but I...” He picked up his water. “I needed something to distract me. Her passing didn’t really set in until I came home, but...”
By then, other terrible things had consumed him.
“But?”
“Oh. But by then I was focused on college, and anyway...” And now his throat had thickened. How had they ended up stumbling around his past?
“I get it,” she said. “Sometimes we need distractions when life derails us.” She offered him a tight-lipped smile, then took a drink of water.
Huh.
He so wanted to get to the bottom of that , thank you.
“I’m sorry we can’t get you back right away. I suppose I could drop you in Santo Domingo, but I’d really...” Like to make sure you’re safe. “I really think you should stay and enjoy the boat. Camille’s amazing food. And it’ll just be a few days.”
She considered him, saying nothing.
He nearly leaped on his phone when it vibrated on the table. He picked it up. “I need to take this.” Getting up, he walked over to the flickering fire.
“Zeus. What’s up?”
“A bit of trouble, sir. The Pinta has fallen off the radar.”
He stared out into the darkness, spotted lights. Maybe a cruise ship. Or a tanker. “Does she have the pearl?”
“No. That’s with the Santa Maria . But we fear that perhaps the Petrovs have figured out our game, maybe tracked her.”
He stilled. “You think the Russians took her?” Oh, probably he should keep his voice down. “Have you gotten ahold of anyone?”
“No, sir. I sent a team to their position. But I wanted to alert you.”
“Where is”—he cast his voice lower—“the shipment?”
“Still a few days to the warehouse. They took a circuitous route, as suggested.”
“Good.” Out of the corner of his eye, movement. He glanced over and Austen had taken a seat on the sofa, staring into the fire, the flames in her gaze.
“Keep me posted,” he said and hung up.
He sat down. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Then she took a breath and nodded. “I think I will take you up on your offer to stick around, Declan. I think maybe... I’d like to get to know you better.”
She met his gaze, something solemn in hers. Beautiful, her hair dry and coppery in the fire’s reflection, tanned skin against the white bathrobe, and a strange intensity in her green eyes.
“You’re a surprising man, Declan.”
He pocketed his phone.
And as much as he wanted to cheer, he had the strangest sense that this might get... well, tricky.
So maybe he’d keep all the big surprises to himself.