Chapter 17
We make it back to the Center before Arthur can tear out what little hair he has left and say our goodbyes to Joanna and Chris.
But by the time we get back to the ship, the tale of Patricia’s little escapade has evolved into a full-on epic.
Somehow each time the story is told, it becomes more harrowing.
Caleb and I had to hike hours into the virgin jungle to find her (fifteen minutes, at best).
Harry and my sister scoured miles of beach in search of their peerless matriarch. Uphill both ways, obviously.
The way the Warrens are recounting it to the crew, their smiling mouths using up their monthly quota of positive emotion at all once, I’m starting to think her disappearance somehow made them like the day even more.
Maybe when you have more money than God, a little adversity once in a while is a welcome change.
When I head back to my cabin to shower, I find that one of my sundresses has been steamed and laid out on my bed with a pink orchid blossom beside it.
Gia. I smile, pulling on the sherbet-colored dress and tucking the flower behind my ear.
I’m planning to find an empty deck and sit out with my sketchbook, but when I take the stairs up, I hear Steven calling my name from outside.
I follow his voice to the bow, where the whole family is gathered around a tiki-themed setup the crew must have prepared while we were gone.
Colorful lanterns hang from the rails and fragrant, purple flowers line the table where Harry and his parents are seated.
A few feet away, Jules, Matthew and Steven are lounging on multicolored, Balinese pillows with champagne glasses in hand.
“There she is!” Harry calls out to me. “Queen of the coral!”
Jules waves me over to her.
“Come sit, Stelly!”
She holds out an empty champagne flute for me as I lower myself next to her, her dark Chanel glasses reflect the light bouncing off her massive engagement ring in a six-figure disco triangle.
“What a day,” I sigh as Steven pours me some Veuve Cliquot from the chilled bottle. Before this moment, the fanciest champagne I’ve had has been from the refrigerated section at Viomart, so I’m feeling extra fancy.
“You’re telling me,” Jules says low enough that the others can’t hear. “I’ve never seen Arthur so stressed. Can you imagine if we actually lost Patricia?”
“Actually,” Matthew says jokingly, “I’ve fantasized about it repeatedly.”
“Speaking of search parties,” Steven leans over towards me conspiratorially. “How was your jungle walk with our intrepid Captain? Hot? Steamy?”
“What?” I stammer a little too loudly, hoping my sunglasses hide my guilt.
“I saw you two lingering on the deck after we came back from the island. Hoping to catch yourself a knotty seaman?”
“No!” I protest. “I would never. He would never… He’s really not my type.”
“What, foreign and objectively hot?” Matthew jokes. “Stella, if we’re going to be relatives, you’ve at least got to get better at lying.”
Wait. Did Matthew just acknowledge me as a future relative?
“She’s not lying,” Jules backs me up. “She’s more into dry, pandering academics.”
Steven snorts out a laugh.
“Probably for the best,” he follows up. “You don’t want to know what Patricia does to maritime fornicators.”
“RIP Christopher,” Matthew adds.
“Who’s Christopher?” I ask.
“Exactly,” Matthew continues. “He was a friend of Harry’s who used to come with us on a lot of our trips. My parents adored him, until Mom caught him getting knotty with the chief stew. That was the end of her career. And the last invite he ever got.”
Knotty is right—I can feel one the size of a lime growing in the back of my throat.
“Yikes,” Jules says. “Why was it such a big deal? They were both adults, right?”
“Because if you haven’t noticed, my mom is a control freak,” he answers.
“She hates for anything to be going on behind her back. Doesn’t even let the crew have visible tattoos, for Christ’s sake.
She definitely wouldn’t want word getting out about a member of her pristine crew dishing it out after dark. ”
“What happened to the stew?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.
“Mom basically had her blacklisted from the yachting community. I heard she had to go back to working at an airport hotel bar.”
“That’s awful!” Jules gasps, but it’s my stomach that’s sinking.
Matthew shrugs.
“Pretty standard procedure in this world. No Captain wants a crewmember who’s a liability. Harry and I tried to get her to chill and at least let Chris come back, but when it comes to below deck romance, her OG Catholic comes out full force. Even I’m not brave enough to cross her on that.”
Matthew uses his finger to mime a knife across his throat.
“All the way to Davey Jones locker.”
“Jesus, Matthew, you’re so dramatic,” Steven whines.
“How dare you accuse me of drama,” Matthew says theatrically, pulling Steven up by the arm. “Off the plank with you, too!”
My chest constricts as he wrestles Steven to the railing. If anyone finds out what happened yesterday in the elevator, off the plank is exactly where I’m headed.
“Boys!” Patricia yells as they continue to spar. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day. Don’t need to add an overboard drill to the list.”
Everyone laughs, and Harry raises his glass.
“Let’s all thank Stella for the wonderful adventure today—and for finding Mom!”
“I was never lost!” Patricia waves him off, but she joins the toast anyway.
“Ya, ya,” Matthew says, removing Steven from his headlock and turning back to me. “Next time, though, could you lose her a little more permanently?”
Patricia pulls out her phone.
“Excuse me while I text my attorney. How do you spell disinherited?”
I fake a smile, but I’m certainly not laughing. What would Patricia do if she knew about me and Caleb? And how would that reflect on Jules?
No matter how much I enjoyed myself in the jungle, I have to get my thoughts about Caleb under control. Because flirting aside, he’s still holding up his end of the bargain. I just have to make sure I can hold up mine.