247 P.M.
MERCY
Mercy spoke quietly into her phone while listening for signs that Travis had finally woken up.
It was well after two in the afternoon and he hadn’t emerged yet, but she knew he would soon.
She was in the expansive en suite, and had just had a cool shower after spending the bulk of the day by the pool getting some sun.
Her skin was hot to the touch, and she knew she should’ve moved to the shade rather than trying to extend her summer glow by another few weeks.
Rhett had called, begging to skip baseball practice on Friday night.
His friend, Jaxton, was having a sleepover with several of the boys from their class and he was desperate to be there.
She had just told him no for the eighth time, and her voice was starting to rise.
Lowering it again, she said, “That’s enough, mister.
You wanted to play competitive ball. You knew what that meant. ”
It meant that she had tried to talk him out of it, knowing he wouldn’t want to go to practices three days a week, but she had given in, like an idiot.
“Mooommmm…seriously. I just need one night off to have some fun. It’s been a tough week with you and dad gone. I’m trying so hard at school. You know I am. And I never miss baseball.”
“I already told you, Auntie Faith will drive you over after practice.”
“But the Fortnite tournament starts at five p.m. sharp. I won’t be able to get in later.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll call Jaxton’s mom and ask if they can let you join in when you get there.”
“Nooooooo, Mom. That would be so embarrassing. I would literally die if you did that.”
She looked over her shoulder and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Rolling her eyes, she said, “Well, obviously I don’t want you to literally die, so I won’t call her.”
At that moment, Travis lumbered into the bathroom without knocking. Mercy started, then offered him an apologetic smile for being in there. His face was puffy and red from sleeping on it, and he scratched his big belly with one hand as he stumbled over to the toilet.
“One second,” she told Rhett, hurrying out of the en suite just as he started to release a loud jet-stream.
The next couple of minutes were spent in a futile back and forth with her son, which now included her urgent reminders that he had to hang up and get ready for school. When Travis emerged, he narrowed his eyes at her. “That one of the kids?”
When she nodded and mouthed Rhett, he said, “Put him on speaker phone so I can say hi.”
She did as she was told. “Rhett, say hi to Dad.”
“Hi, Dad,” their son said, sounding unimpressed.
“Hey son, are all those females at the house givin’ you a hard time?”
“No, well sort of.” He launched into his sad tale of being forced to miss a couple of hours of a sleepover to meet his commitment to baseball.
Travis waited until he was done, then said, “Listen, I’ll call your coach. Don’t worry about it.”
“Seriously?” Rhett asked, sounding suddenly very excited.
“Yup. Your mom, as wonderful as she is, doesn’t understand about these things. Competition is the cornerstone of life. It’s what’ll turn you into a warrior.”
“That’s what I was trying to tell her.”
Mercy glared at her phone, fury simmering just below the surface. She was being overruled by a man who didn’t know the first thing about the team, the coach, or the fallout that would come from missing practice—especially if word got back to anyone on the team about why he missed.
“Yes, well, there are some things mothers will never fully grasp. And those are the moments when fathers have to step in.”
“Thanks, Dad! You’re the best!” Rhett said.
Mercy clenched her jaw at his words. Travis wasn’t the one who made sure their son always had a clean uniform, or drove him to and from each practice and game.
Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to show up as a spectator.
And yet, he was suddenly ‘the best.’ She let out a long sigh, then said, “Hurry up and get ready for school. I don’t want you making your sisters late. ”
“Okay! Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. Love you guys!”
“Love you too,” she answered.
“See you, pal,” Travis said.
After she hung up, he gave her a little grin. “Oh no, you’re not mad at me, are you?”
“Well, I’m certainly not thrilled. I’m trying to teach our son to meet his commitments, even when things are hard. As someone who works as much as you do, I’d think you’d agree with me that our children should learn that.”
He shrugged. “Truthfully, none of my children are ever really going to have to grind it out in life.”
“Travis Bishop, I refuse to raise spoiled brats.”
“Oh now, honey, you do spoil them. Just not the same way.”
What he meant was how patient she was with them, and how she was willing to bend over backwards to see to their every need, which to Mercy was just being a normal, good mother.
He picked up the remote for the blinds and pointed them at the sliding door. A second later, the quiet hum of the motor could be heard as they allowed the mid-afternoon sun to come in. Glancing at the clock, Travis said, “Is that the real time?”
She nodded.
He yawned, then said, “I must have needed that.”
“Hmph,” was her answer. She was still too annoyed at being overruled to agree with him.
If he realized she was mad, he wasn’t about to acknowledge it.
Instead, he walked over to the closet and selected a pair of shorts and a polo shirt.
“Well, it’ll be too late to go fishing.” When he turned back to her, his eyes lit up.
“I know! Let’s have a poker night. Black tie.
Yuri can make all sorts of finger foods.
That’ll be a lot more entertaining than sitting around eating and talking all evening. ”
“I’m pretty sure Yuri will be well into making tonight’s dinner by now.”
“Tell him to change it. Maybe he can repurpose parts of it. Oh, but I want those sliders. It’s not a real poker night without sliders.”
He passed by her, slapping her on the ass as he headed for the en suite.
“I’m gonna have a nice long shower. Be a doll and make the arrangements for this evening.
And let’s get started at six o’clock. Really make a night of it.
” He turned back to give her a wink. “I deserve a fun night after that long meeting all day.”
4:21 P.M.
OLIVER
“Okay, everyone, we’ve already had a lot of excitement today, and the day is far from over,” Captain Ben announced to the entire crew, who had assembled on the bridge for a quick meeting.
“Mr. Taggart in the Dolphin Suite is fine, in case you’re wondering.
It was a misunderstanding, and nothing more.
Please don’t ask him how he is doing. He seems like the type who would not appreciate the attention. ”
Oliver leaned in toward Indira and whispered, “What the hell happened?”
She shook her head, murmuring, “Tell you later.”
The captain shot them a look, then continued, his expression shifting to slight amusement. “Mr. Bishop has…finished with the vital meeting that popped up at quarter to five this morning.”
Most of the crew chuckled. He cleared his throat, then continued.
“Because it’s going to be dark soon, he decided the guests will go spearfishing tomorrow, so we’ll need to prepare for that.
We’re docking off the southwest shore of Cres Island tonight.
We expect calm waters and good conditions again.
” He glanced at Yuri. “Change of plans for supper. Mr. Bishop wants to hold a poker tournament starting at six o’clock sharp.
It will be black tie, so everyone needs to change into their dress uniforms.”
Groans were heard around the bridge, and Captain Ben nodded. “I know. It’s hot out. But hopefully we’ll get an evening breeze.” He turned to Yuri. “The change of plans means finger foods instead of a four-course meal.”
“For Christ’s sake,” Yuri muttered. “I’ve been preparing dinner for three hours already. And now he just changes the plan at the last second.”
“Indira will help you,” the captain answered evenly. “Oliver, Mr. Bishop has requested that you act as the dealer.”
He nodded, too tired to bother to protest. “Where does he want us to set up?”
“He wanted the formal dining room, but since it’s quite warm in there, I’ve persuaded him to settle for the al fresco dining area instead, citing that it’ll be more impressive.
” He turned to Enzo. “Please help Oliver assemble the poker table before you relieve me for the evening.” Captain Ben looked at Oliver. “What’s the status on the A/C?”
Oliver’s gut tightened at the reality of the situation. “It’s pretty much cooked. There’s a chance I can get it back on so people can sleep, but honestly, it’s pretty slim.”
“That’s not going to go over well,” Indira remarked.
“Not at all,” Yuri added.
“The best I can do is help him win at poker,” Oliver said, knowing exactly what would be expected tonight. “Hopefully that’ll keep him somewhat happy.”
“We can only do what we can,” the captain said. “And you’re right. The name of the game until this trip is over is to keep Mr. Bishop too busy and too drunk to be annoyed at the heat.”
Oliver’s response was sarcastic. “Sounds doable.”
“Sometimes miracles do happen,” Ben told him.
Oliver glanced at his watch. “Unless there is anything else, I better go set up.”
“That’s all,” the captain said.
Oliver hurried off the bridge in the direction of the storage room, with Enzo behind him.
He reminded himself that it would all be over soon.
Once the last guest exited the yacht, he’d have a few beers and a long hot shower to rid himself of the greasy feeling of going along with a man like Travis Bishop.
Then he’d forget about whatever he was about to do to keep his dream job.
He was going to help a total asshole dominate his guests for his own amusement, and Oliver knew it would get very ugly by the end of the night.
But now that he really thought about it, he wouldn’t be a bit sorry to help screw over a man like Ted Dawson. He might even enjoy it.