Chapter 19
19
M aileah sat on her sun-dappled patio, refining the pitch she would make later today before the committee in charge of the charity event. She chewed her lip as she reviewed her work.
Even with the participating surfer interviews and Adrian’s song, something was missing.
Just then, her phone rang. It was her mother.
“Good morning, darling,” April said. “Margaret just called about today’s meeting. She said you’re presenting your marketing plan. I knew you were working on it, but are you ready to share it?”
“I have to,” she said gamely, even though she was a little uncomfortable. “There isn’t much time left before the event.”
April sighed. “That’s what I’m concerned about. I know you’re brilliant, and you need work, but I would hate to see you set up to fail. Are you sure you will have enough time?”
Maileah tried to sound upbeat, but she was worried, too. Especially being new in town. “This is what I do, Mom. I’ve been under a lot more pressure than this.” That was true, though she didn’ t miss it.
“If you need anything, your grandmother and I are here to help.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And how is your new place?” her mother asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“I love it. I’m doing everything I can to make sure I can stay.”
“And the neighbors?”
“It’s a great neighborhood. I’ll see you later, Mom. Love you.” Swiftly, Maileah hung up before her mother could ask about Sailor. She had probably heard the gossip. She wasn’t sure how to explain this new development in their friendship.
After going out with him last night, she’d had a hard time winding down to sleep. She didn’t want to make a mistake with him.
As soon as the sun was up, she continued working on her marketing proposal. She couldn’t miss this opportunity with the fundraiser.
Now, she stared at her computer screen, wondering what else she could add. Something with sizzle that would make people take notice and talk.
She drummed her fingers on the table and blew out a breath.
She had nothing.
Glancing at the time, she thought about calling Sailor and telling him she couldn’t make it for brunch, but she had to eat, and the ideas weren’t flowing. Taking a break couldn’t hurt.
And she really wanted to see Sailor again. She rubbed her bare arms, her heart fluttering as she recalled how she’d felt in his warm embrace. Everything felt so natural between them, but by herself, questions churned in her mind.
A hot surfer a few years younger didn’t look great on paper. She knew what she should want at this stage in her life. She’d filled out the dating app questionnaire.
Picking up her pencil, she scratched a few figures on her notepad as she thought .
A commitment within six months. Marriage at twelve months. A year to get pregnant. Two children. She calculated this as a four-year process; she could bring it in a few months shy of forty.
She stared at the paper, then tore off the page and crumpled it.
What was she doing with Sailor?
And yet, when his arms were around her, her world felt right.
After putting her laptop in the cottage, Maileah walked across the street, still wondering if she was doing the right thing.
Sailor was in the driveway cleaning his surfboard. He wore a faded T-shirt stretched across his shoulders, and his hair was still damp. When he saw her, he looked up and grinned. “You’re just in time.”
He held his arms wide before wrapping them around her. “I sure missed you last night.”
“Hey, you,” she said, laughing. “We’re not at that point yet.” She smiled against his neck, though she had missed his embrace, too.
He’d showered, but the fresh scent of the sun and seas still clung to his skin as if embedded in his DNA. And she couldn’t get enough of it.
Clearing her throat, she pulled back and gestured to the surfboard. “You take good care of your boards. Isn’t that one different from the one I saw before?”
“You’re observant.” He finished wiping down the board. “It all depends on conditions. Want to see the rest of them?”
“You have different types?”
“Sure. According to the waves and what I want to do.” He tucked the board under his arm and opened a door. “This way.”
Maileah stepped into a room behind the garage. When he turned on the light, she gasped. Padded racks held a surfboard collection of different shapes, sizes, and colors. Sturdy cases leaned against the wall.
“In surfing lingo, this is my quiver,” he said. “My collection.”
“Wow,” she breathed, running her hand along a sleek surfboard with an artistic design. “Very impressive.” But then, he was a professional. Of course, he would be serious about his equipment.
“I had this room specially built to control temperature and humidity.” Sailor gestured to the boards. “Each one is for different conditions. Some boards are good for tricks in smaller surf conditions. Others are for the big waves.”
“How big?” she asked, suddenly curious.
“At least six to seven meters, or about twenty feet.”
She envisioned the height. “That’s as tall as a two-story home.”
His eyes twinkled. “I said, at least . Thirty to eighty feet is more like it.”
She had a hard time imagining that. “On this coastline?”
Smiling, Sailor put his arm around her. “Our waves are pretty chill unless there’s a winter storm. In the Pacific Ocean, waves can swell up to eighty feet.”
Maileah thought about that, slightly alarmed. “And you’ve surfed those?”
“Sure. The waves are awesome at Jaws on Maui’s north coast at Peahi. I’ve also surfed huge open water waves by jet ski or helicopter, like Cortes Bank, a reef about a hundred miles from San Diego. It’s amazing during the winter swells. Up the coast is Mavericks, just north of Half Moon Bay. Storms can send waves to fifty, sixty feet, but they’ve claimed some lives.”
As he spoke, his face became more animated. Maileah realized she had much to learn about the sport he loved, even if it could be deadly. “Do you ever surf outside of the States?”
“There are so many great places.” He ticked off his fingers. “I surfed a gnarly double wave at Shipstern Bluff in Tasmania. Teahupo’o in Tahiti has fast barrel waves, although they break over a shallow reef that’s painfully sharp. I’ve also surfed Pico Alto in Peru and places off the coast of Chile and Capetown.”
She grinned at the variety of places he’d traveled. “Any surfing in Europe?”
“Oh, sure. I’ve surfed off the coast of La C?te Basque in France and Donegal Bay in Ireland during the winter storms. Wherever Mother Nature serves up great conditions, I’m there.”
He said all that nonchalantly. Maileah understood that Sailor wasn’t boasting, only stating facts. “So where is the largest, most incredible wave you’ve ever surfed?”
“Nazaré, Portugal, for sure.” He picked up a broken board in the corner. “That one left me with a souvenir. Praia do Norte is known for big waves caused by its unique terrain. An underwater canyon creates converging waves, and then there’s swell refraction and rapid depth reduction. The water is heavy, fast, and potentially deadly. Only the best ride that.”
Sailor’s eyes lit with excitement as he spoke. This is his life, Maileah realized. But for how much longer?
“Tell me more,” she said, appreciating his enthusiasm, though she doubted his pursuits would fit into her four-year plan.
“The record wave ever surfed at Nazaré was a real monster. Almost a hundred feet. A German engineering team developed a way to measure waves using drone technology. The guy reached 100 km/h on his ride. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. It’s one thing to watch it on a screen, but to be there, to feel it, and surf it—that’s an entirely different league.”
Maileah couldn’t imagine surfing a wave that size or at that speed, let alone watching Sailor attempt it. “Could you do that?”
He shrugged. “Not many can, but I’ve ridden my share of big waves that got my attention. You have to understand the mechanics of the wave and make sure you’ve got jet skis to tow you out and boats as backups in case you need to get hauled out of there.” Hesitating, he asked, “Does this scare you?”
The magnitude of Mother Nature’s waves was almost unfathomable. She had to answer honestly. “A little.”
“Would you go and watch sometime?” he asked casually.
Although that was an understated question, she saw in his eyes how important this was to him. Her emotional draw to him was as strong as the tides. “I would support you wherever you went,” she said softly.
And she meant that, even if it wrecked her four-year plan.
He seemed to grasp the significance of her agreement. A slow smile touched his face. “Then we’ll do that soon.”
How could Maileah explain this feeling to anyone? Just listening to Sailor was reinvigorating, and a world of possibilities unfolded in her mind. She had visited many places, but this was another level. “The traveling sounds fabulous.”
“You’d go for that?”
“In a heartbeat.” Still, a remnant of her goal remained in her mind. Sailor loved what he did, but she needed more. “What about those with families?”
“They often go along. Some surf, some don’t, but it’s usually a good time.” He paused and grinned. “I have the best gig in the world.”
Acknowledging that, she smiled. “Now I understand why you’re not hanging out on social media.”
He laughed and swept her into his arms. “We get one shot at this great big life of ours. I want to do everything I can while I can.”
“I like the way you think,” Maileah said, loving how it felt to be in his embrace. Sailor was the most adventurous man she’d ever met. Most men took their allotted time from their day jobs to seek out adventures, but for Sailor, adventure was a way of life.
“What motivates you?” She had many questions, yet she didn’t want this to sound like an interview. She knew how that felt. Still, she was truly curious.
“When I was a kid, I loved playing in the water. The ocean is endlessly fascinating. As for surfing, I found something I was good at and wanted to push the boundaries. Only recently did surfing become an Olympic sport.”
“That’s impressive,” she said.
Sailor went on, “And there’s still so much to learn about the wave mechanics. We can improve boards and equipment even more. It’s an exciting time to be a part of the sport and advance it.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “But surfing is so much more than that. It’s a practice—a way of life and a way to connect with nature.”
Maileah considered this, looking around the room at his gear, photos, and memorabilia. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it was much more than she had imagined.
This is what Sailor loved.
“What’s the story on the rest of those?” she asked, nodding toward other broken boards leaning on a different rack. They all showed signs of damage. Cracks, splits, chunks missing. A couple of others were broken in half.
Sailor’s smile turned wistful. “Those are my battle scars. Can’t bring myself to throw them out.”
She ran her hand along a broken board. “Do other surfers have ones like this?”
“If they’ve been surfing a long time and looking for challenges. Some throw out old boards. Some use them to decorate their patio or yard. A friend made one into a coffee table because he couldn’t part with it.”
As Maileah stared at the broken boards, she made a connection in her mind. “What if we asked surfers to donate their broken boards? We could auction them off or have artists turn them into art pieces. Call it Broken Boards for Unbroken Spirits. Or something like that. And feature the surfers who didn’t let that stop them.”
Sailor rubbed his jaw in thought. “That would be cool. Some, like me, might have trouble parting with their old boards, but for a cause like this, they’d probably go for it.”
Excitement coursed through her now. “We could involve local artists, maybe have some athletes help decorate the boards. It could be a community event.” She swiped a hand through the air. “Using broken boards to heal broken bodies.”
Sailor nodded, clearly warming to the idea. “It ties in well with the theme of the fundraiser. You’re good, Maisie. Even better than I thought.”
“Right back at you,” Maileah said, warmth spreading through her at Sailor’s praise. Feigning irritation, she added, “And you’re sticking with that nickname?”
“Unless Junie has already taken it.”
She laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “It’s all yours.”
He spun her around before he released her.
This was the big idea she’d been looking for. Turning broken boards into collectible art for a good cause. She could hardly wait to pitch this idea to the organizers. Mentally, she began a list of what she would need to do.
She fished her phone from a pocket. “Mind if I take some photos of these?”
“Go ahead.” Sailor stepped back while she took photos.
“Now, I want you in the frame.”
“Seriously?”
She smiled. “It’s for a good cause.”
Grinning, he picked up the broken pieces while she snapped away.
“That’s great.” She showed him some of her shots. “Isn’t this exciting?”
“Hurricane Maileah,” he said laughing. “You’re about to take Crown Island by storm.”
“You have no idea.” Maileah smiled and arched an eyebrow.
He didn’t know it, but he was about to gain huge traction on social media. She was determined to supercharge the fundraising effort and show everyone on Crown Island and beyond what she was capable of. Some might surf the waves, but she knew how to surf the internet like a boss.
When they finished, Sailor led her into the kitchen.
Maileah looked around with some trepidation. This, however, was not her area of expertise. “Do you need any help?”
“Not really, unless you want to make the coffee.” He gestured toward a fancy machine and grinned.
Maileah turned to the behemoth machine. “I use a simple French press at home, but that’s one kitchen appliance I’m comfortable with. The tech company I worked for spent lavishly. We had a proper coffee house on site with a barista from Italy. They served European and American coffee, but we also had these machines in every break room. The office ran on caffeine 24/7.”
Sailor ran a hand over her shoulder. “But do you know how to make a real macchiato?”
“That depends.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you have fresh coffee beans and milk?”
“In the fridge.”
Maileah brought out a bag of beans, opened it, and inhaled the aroma. “Dark roast, very nice.”
She might be a little lost in a kitchen, but she knew coffee. While Sailor made an omelet, she prepared coffee beans in the grinder, drew the espresso, and frothed the milk.
This machine did everything but wash dishes.
She placed a small cup beside him. “How’s that?”
“You never cease to amaze me.” Sailor took a sip and nodded. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
“Just don’t ask me to make anything unattended.” However, with Sailor, she didn’t feel the pressure in the kitchen. In fact, it was fun hanging out with him in here. Maybe she could learn more without the pressure of producing a meal that wasn’t already frozen or came out of a salad package .
While the omelet cooked, they leaned against the kitchen counter and drank their coffee, comfortable together.
Maybe that four-year plan could be stretched to six, she thought. Or even better, maybe no plan at all.
As appealing as that was to her adventurous heart, could she live with that, or would she regret it later?