11. Smart Women Piss You Off
Smart Women Piss You Off
MATTHEW
“Your girl’s here,” Jesse says as I finish repairing a small patch of net.
I don’t look up. “She’s not my girl.”
“Sure, that’s why you’re risking our lives by inviting her on board.”
I drop the net and push myself to stand, rising to meet my brother. We are about the same build, though he has a couple of inches on me. I’m older though, and that’s not easily forgotten. “You’re going to be a perfect fucking gentleman for the first time in your life, alright?” I say.
“She’s a?—”
“I know what she is, and I know smart women piss you off.”
“I didn’t say they piss me off, I said?—”
Tuma doesn’t look up from sharpening his knives. “They intimidate you.”
My brother scrunches his nose, and before he can say anything else, I grab his shoulder. “Just be cool. It’s one day. Maybe you’ll warm up to her. Besides . . .” I lock my eyes into my brother’s. “If you’re not on good behavior, you don’t get paid.”
Jesse opens and closes his mouth like a fish and then groans. “Fiiiine.”
I laugh. That was the deal we made last night after he said “no” about a dozen times to coming out on the boat with me. I’ll give him a cut of Lillian’s fee and pay him for a day on the boat the way I would during the season. As long as he’s on his best behavior, which remains to be seen.
“Hi.”
I turn toward the dock where Lillian is standing tall and radiant in the morning sun, her auburn hair tied back, and her head held high. “Hey! Long time, no see.”
She smiles, but there’s something meek about it. She’s not still embarrassed about the bears, is she? I admittedly played it cool given the situation, but there was no use scaring her more. That was a close call, closer than I’ve experienced in a long time.
I take Lillian’s bag, which is somehow heavier than yesterday, and then her hand to help her onto the deck. “You remember Tuma?”
“Yes, nice to see you again,” she says.
“You, too.”
I glance at Jesse, who is by the wheelhouse door. “And hopefully you remember my brother a little less.”
Jesse rubs one arm shyly. “Um, hi, Lillian.”
“See? Did that kill you? Anyway . . .” I turn back to Lillian. “You ready to take a run with authentic Bristol Bay fishermen?” I ask, spreading my hands and jabbing them out like I’m a carnival barker.
Lillian does not seem enthused. “Sure. Ready as ever.”
I put my arms back at my sides, ignoring Jesse’s snickering. “Everything okay?”
“I, um—” Lillian glances at me then looks away nervously. “I ran into your dad at The Half-Hitch on my way over here.”
My jaw falls. “Oh, god.”
“Yeah, he hates my guts,” she says with a soft laugh.
“That’s Wayne Benton for you,” Tuma mumbles.
“Sorry about him,” Jesse offers. Jesse might not like Lillian, but even he knows that running into Dad is like meeting a feral animal in the dark. It either ignores you or wants to tear you apart limb from limb. “He can be a real bastard.”
“That’s why Jesse is the way he—” I add, stopping short when something bonks off the back of my head. A yellow buoy topples to the ground, and I glare back at my brother. “The hell?”
I’m ready to go toe to toe with Jesse for embarrassing me in front of Lillian. It’s not that my pride is bruised. Okay, maybe a little, but I run a professional outfit. I worked a long time to get where I’m at, to be taken seriously. I don’t need my kid brother making a mockery of it.
However, Lillian laughs, which catches me off guard. She hides her pink lips behind her hand and blinks up at me. “Sorry.”
There she is. “No, no. It’s funny.”
Now, Tuma laughs with a ‘Bro, you’re so obvious’ type of laugh. I’m trying not to be obvious, but it’s hard around Lillian.
Her whole demeanor has brightened, and now, her expression matches the sun. “Gwen took care of me. No apologies necessary.”
“That’s good. That’s good. Um. Weather’s good today if you want to sit with me up on the flybridge.”
“That’d be great.”
“We’ll head south, get to the mouth of the Egegik, and do what we did yesterday. Go down the river where you can get your samples, and?—”
“Actually, I was planning on diving to get a sediment sample today.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“It’s going to be a more effective sample, information-wise,” Lillian explains. “Contaminants settle in the deeper parts of the riverbed, which will give me a better sense of?—”
“We’re contaminating the riverbed now, are we?” Jesse pipes up.
I get ready to shut him up, but Lillian’s in her element.
She holds her own. “Contrary to your belief, Jesse, I’ve never accused the fishermen of being the cause of the coho salmon population decline.
You’ve decided that all on your own.” She lifts her chin.
“I’m here to determine potential causes of the problem and diagnose issues that could be hurting the salmon.
I have no preconceived notions other than the obvious effects of climate change.
So, if you let me do my job, you might learn something. ”
Jesse is red in the face. He’s at a loss for words.
“This is why he doesn’t like smart women,” Tuma says to me. “He can’t keep up.”
“I can keep up!” Jesse huffs.
Tuma laughs while I address the problem at hand. “I understand you might need to dive for your research, but the water out here is much colder than in LA.”
“I bought a heavier wetsuit for the occasion,” she says. “I’ve also got a mini tank and a pump to refill it if I have to.
Dammit. I don’t want her going down there. All my instincts tell me it’s a bad idea. “Well, besides that, the currents are strong.”
“I’m a strong swimmer.”
“I’m sure you are, but you haven’t swum in a Bristol Bay current.”
Lillian narrows her eyes. “I need my sample.”
“And you’re on my boat, and I need to keep you alive,” I tell her.
She crosses her arms. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
I almost laugh. “I didn’t realize I had to negotiate for your survival now.” The conversation might be serious, but I love bickering with her. I wipe the budding smile away. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t let you.”
Lillian’s shoulders sag.
“All we have to do is tie a rope around her, don’t you think?” Tuma offers. “I mean, we’ve got plenty of rope.”
I perch my hands on my hips and glare at my friend. Whose side is he on? “I’d be happy to go down myself at a different time to get your sample, but today?—”
Lillian interjects, “Oh, come on! You loop some rope around me, and if something goes wrong, you yank me out! You’re fishermen, isn’t that what you do?”
“We fish fish, not women,” I say.
“Well, we know you don’t,” Jesse jabs.
I pinch my fingers, leaving a small gap. “You’re this close.”
“I think you’re underestimating her, Matt,” Tuma says, holding up his pristinely sharpened knife. “And you know Katoo would castrate you if she found out you’d done that.” He slides the knife into its sheath and smiles.
“So, what’s it going to be, Matt?” Lillian asks, crossing her arms defiantly. “My sample or your balls?”
There is nothing sexy about scuba gear, except maybe the skintight suit.
But Lillian somehow manages to make all the bulky gear and silly flippers look really sexy.
Of course, her confidence adds to it quite a bit.
She wears it well and clearly has done stuff like this plenty of times.
I should have known her confidence wasn’t foolish.
But I remain resolute. Lillian might know diving, but she doesn’t know diving in Bristol Bay.
Lillian tucks her shiny hair into the diving hood, pulls it up over her head, then grabs her goggles and crowns herself with them. “Okay, tie me up, Captain.”
My hands holding the rope go limp as she raises her arms up. I was ready to take it all seriously until she made my brain turn to mush again. I’ve never been one for tying people up, but if that’s what Lillian wants, I’d happily do it for her.
“What are you waiting for? You said the current’s good for now.”
“Nothing. Nothing, I . . .” I bite my tongue and step up to Lillian, feeding the rope around her waist. “No one’s ever asked me to tie them up before.” I can’t help myself. She walked into it.
Lillian’s hazel eyes go wide. At first, I think I might have offended her, but just as that thought starts to settle, she says, “First time for everything.”
She’s flirting back with me. I don’t know if I can survive this. “Jeez, Lillian,” I mutter, making another loop.
“What?”
“You’re . . . making me lose focus,” I reply.
Lillian’s eyes flutter, and she smiles. “Oh. Sorry.”
After I’ve done enough loops, I tie a bowline knot around Lillian.
“Make sure it’s a good knot. Don’t want you to lose me.”
“Don’t worry, I’m very . . . knotty.” I want to facepalm. Nothing’s sexy about dad jokes.
Lillian, however, bursts out laughing. “That was good, Captain.”
The captain thing shouldn’t be quite as satisfying as it is, but it goes straight to my dick. Thankfully, I’m done with her and can step away before anything gets out of hand. “Okay. All set.”
Tuma and I help Lillian onto the deck railing. “I’m pulling you up the second I think something’s wrong, clear?” I ask.
Tuma and Jesse take the rope while I stand by to keep an eye on her in the water.
“Aye aye, Captain,” Lillian says before pulling her goggles down and back-rolling into the water.
I hold my breath as she disappears. Given the harsh currents here, Lillian has had to use a technique called negative entry which forces her to go under immediately instead of getting acclimated at the surface.
The initial pull of the rope has Jesse and Tuma bracing with wide stances on the deck, but quickly, the rope relaxes. They exchange looks of surprise. “Strong swimmer,” Tuma exclaims.
I can still see Lillian’s form under the water. Thankfully, we bartered on a depth of only fifteen feet. Still, I have to remain vigilant. I don’t want to lose her on my watch. I can’t.
And not just because I’m the captain.