Chapter 3
An offer Rowan Rafferty can’t refuse
A sharp knocking on my office door woke me from a dead sleep. I sat straight up and reached for my crutches, lying on the floor beside my inflatable mattress. The boat's rocking often made standing hard, but years in the Royal Australian Navy gave me my sea legs.
Sea legs.
I chuckled and pulled on the robe slung over the back of my desk chair.
The knocking grew more insistent. “Mr. Rafferty? Are you in there? We need to talk.”
I clutched the hand grips of the crutches tighter. I knew that voice. That was Heather Ballein, the Flamingo Cove Harbormaster and a grade-A stickler for the rules.
“Just a moment,” I said, crutching over to the door and opening it. “What can I do for you?”
Harbormaster Ballein was a woman whose very presence commanded respect.
At 65, she was a petite battle axe that ran the Flamingo Cove Marina with an iron fist. Her sharp gray eyes assessed my missing left leg.
I mentally cursed for not putting on my prosthetic before answering the door, but that took time, and I thought there might be an emergency on board.
The Harbormaster adjusted her glasses with professionalism and a hint of regret. “You may want to sit down for this,” she said with a clipped tone.
I frowned and gripped the crutches tighter. “I’d rather stand if it’s all the same.”
“Ahem,” she coughed. “This is a delicate matter, but were you aware of the video cameras around the marina.”
My stomach sank at her pronouncement. Shit. “I am aware of cameras in the marina. But you sound as if you’d like to discuss a particular camera.”
“Yes,” she coughed again and tried to look me in the eye. She managed to stare at my nose. “The one trained on the entrance to the marina’s outdoor shower. Are you aware—”
“Get to the point, Ms. Ballein. I am aware of the outcome of that shower.”
“Well, Mr. Rafferty,” she said, pulling a piece of yellow paper out of her bag. “Pursuant to clause seventeen in your docking contract, the moral turpitude of your actions last night means we can sever the contract and give you 30 days to vacate the premises.”
I snatched the paper from her hand. “Great. See ya.” I slammed the door in her face.
You’d think a shower would have made me feel better, but it didn’t. It only made me remember the ramifications of my impulsive actions the night before. What the hell was I thinking having sex with a stranger in an outdoor shower?
I knew the answer to that. I wasn’t thinking.
If I had, I might have considered the consequences.
I bought Pegleg Pete’s Pirate Extravaganza out of bankruptcy after an incident involving real pirates.
Moving operations to Flamingo Cove from Treasure Island was a sound business move, as more customers flocked to the cruise.
But I wasn’t sure where else we could go if we had to move again.
Not to mention the advertising I’d have to do to alert potential customers to the new location.
My nine o’clock appointment promised to help with that.
My phone rang. I saw Father’s caller ID flash on the screen and inwardly groaned. I was not in the mood to deal with his bullshit today. His calls had become more persistent, but I dreaded facing his emissary if I didn't respond.
“Hello, Father,” I answered.
“Son, why have you been avoiding my calls?” He demanded.
“Hmm, it’s a mystery.”
“Don’t start with that sarcastic attitude with me. Every time I talk to you, I feel like I’m talking to your mother.”
“That is not the insult you think it is,” I said. “What do you want?”
“Your answer.”
“I told you, I have a job.”
“This is ridiculous,” my father grumbled.
I could vividly imagine him in his sleek, modern office, adorned with photographs of himself in the company of renowned figures, many of whom were the heads of their own countries.
The polished trophies and prestigious awards would be meticulously displayed on his shelves.
However, conspicuously absent was any evidence of his remaining family.
“You need to come to your senses and take the job I offered you,” he continued.
“Or what? You’ll hobble me?”
“Son.”
“Cut me off at the knees? Too late. Been there, done that.”
“That’s not funny,” he whispered.
“How is that not funny? You’re threatening the trust I received when Mom died.” I blinked a few times to clear my vision. “And even you can’t do that. I checked with the lawyers.”
“The lawyers who almost gave everything to that bitch you married?”
“Too far, Father, too far.”
Father paused for so long that I thought he hung up on me. I was relieved until I checked the screen, which still showed us connected. I heard him sigh heavily. “Son, I’m looking out for you. I can’t stand to see you go through something like that again. I want to keep you safe.”
I blew out a breath. “Father. I am safe. And… I’m enjoying the job. This is a quirky place. It suits me.”
“Oh, balls. You met a woman.”
My face flushed with embarrassment, and my cock hardened at the memory of Kendra bent at a 90-degree angle and ready for me. I cleared my throat. “No. There’s no woman.”
“Son,” Father’s voice turned to gravel. “When will you learn women only want two things from men? And you’re bound to be a disappointment on both counts.”
“Damn. Stab me in the ear next time. It’ll be less painful,” I spat out. “Thanks for the call, Father, but I have a nine o’clock appointment. Not a pleasure talking to you. Have a day.”
I jabbed the end call button on the phone and nearly sent it flying into the hallway, but I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten, then twenty, then a hundred.
As my heart rate calmed, I once again thought back to Kendra as she gave me shit in The Squad Room.
She was a feisty one, that Kendra. I thought about tracking her down and reconnecting, but then a phantom pain from my lower left leg brought me back to reality.
Kendra ran off last night because of the destruction of the outdoor shower, and she’d run off again if she got a good look at my missing limb.
It was for the best that she left. Women always did.
When I opened my eyes, I spotted two people standing in the doorway of my office.
An older man with unnaturally brown hair and green eyes looked familiar, but the woman beside him did not. She was a foot shorter than him and had gray hair. She wore a sharp, cream-colored business suit, and her presence filled the entire office.
“Mr. Rafferty?” She asked in a posh British accent. “My name is Uma Maddux, Mayor of Pleasure Point. We’ve come to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”