Chapter Twenty-five #2
Sharon’s mouth pulls pessimistically to one side.
“Even if we turn her down, we might get caught up in her spin machine. She won’t air McHuge’s juvenile record unless she wants me to sue her ass down to the earth’s molten core.
But the fake engagement, Sloane’s endorsement, Stellar’s employment and family history… all fair game.”
I blanch. My lunch date with Grey Tusk General could go away if Renee Garner hinted I’d misrepresented my medical qualifications to the Love Boat’s clients.
I didn’t, but that wouldn’t matter; a rumor would be enough to sink me.
Not many patients—or hospitals—would want a doctor who spent the last year making sure the General Tso’s chicken was still hot when it arrived.
Sharon sweeps her papers into a tidy pile. “Let’s take the day to process. Shutting down a business is emotional. It does none of us any good to pretend it’s not. What?” she says, at my flabbergasted look. “Why does everyone act so surprised when I have feelings?”
She comes in for a strong hug, careful of my arm. “The two of you can let me know what you think of the podcast invite. I’m good either way, but I’m not the person who has to go on the damn thing.”
Lyle makes me lie on his couch while he puts together lunch.
We haven’t had time for a grocery run, and he insisted only he could find his way around the remaining nonperishables.
Not true—I can do miracles with a can of chickpeas and some salad dressing, but last night’s disaster and this morning’s meeting have left me with a bone-deep fatigue that renders me unable to overcome the couch’s gravitational pull.
I pop two Tylenol and drift a little, listening to Lyle’s cooking sounds while I stroke Babe’s ears.
The Love Boat had excellent beds by camping standards, but they were nothing compared to this couch.
It’s a Lyle-sized ocean of fuzzy blankets and plush pillows that might be the gateway to an alternate spiritual plane.
Lyle appears with a tray. “Mixed-berry smoothie, cinnamon vanilla pancakes, bacon, jam, real maple syrup, and steamed broccoli,” he announces proudly. He sets the tray across my lap, then settles at my feet with his plate.
“Broccoli, Chef?” I ask, twirling a floret at the end of my fork.
“You need something green. Trust me, I’m a doctor.”
I smile weakly. Doctor jokes don’t feel very funny after Sharon’s briefing. “These are good pancakes.”
“From my finest boxed mix. I got the cinnamon and vanilla trick from Jasvinder.”
I put down my fork at the reference to our Love Boat family.
“What are we going to do?”
He takes an unhurried sip of his smoothie. “Well. I figure as long as we can find another rescue paddler, we’ll run the second session. I’ll take over first aid on the water.”
I suck in a hopeful breath.
“If you want to come back, we’ll keep you in camp, and you can do dryland days.
I’d like to pay Jasvinder for as long as we can and honor our existing food orders with local suppliers.
Give everyone as much time as possible to find a new situation.
” His sigh hitches on the way out. “After that, we take down the tents. Sell the boats. Settle our debts.”
“Oh. Right.” I deflate like a sad balloon.
“I know we promised to hold on,” he says, putting his plate on the coffee table, then standing up to set aside my tray. He settles himself behind me, then pulls my back against his chest. “And we did. We held on as long as we could. It’s not wrong to move on when you’ve done everything you can.”
“But aren’t you sad? Aren’t you angry ? This wasn’t just any job for me, Lyle. The Love Boat meant something to me. You built a special place. We built it together.”
He gathers me close, breathing in the scent of my hair, which smells like his shampoo—a citrusy blend that would go well with Earl Grey and honey.
We stay like that for a minute, then two, then three, hurting for something we both love that was the perfect thing at the perfect time, until everything came crashing down.
“You want to do the podcast,” he says, finally.
“Is there a thought of mine you can’t eavesdrop on?”
He nudges through my undercut with his nose. “I’ve tried to stop, but you think very loudly.”
I sigh. “That’s probably true. Yes, I want to do the podcast, but it’s not about what I want.” I don’t own a piece of this company yet. Even if I did, Lyle’s shares plus Tobin’s proxy vote would still make his word law.
And he has the most at stake. I spent a little over two weeks at the Love Boat; Lyle spent a year getting this business off the ground. Countless hours. It’s his , in every way that matters. If he thinks it’s time to close it down, only an asshole would oppose him.
“Tell me why you want what you want, then.”
I turn my face against his chest. “Your way is smarter. More strategic. Financially sound. We’d live to fight another day.”
“And you want to fight today.” His voice rumbles underneath my back. There’s so much care in it. He loves me for being angry and wanting to fight.
He loves me.
“Yeah. I want to fight today. Fisher won’t go away just because his crimes have been exposed.
He’ll come after us with every handful of mud he can sling.
The podcast is the only thing that could help us tell our side of the story in time to save the Love Boat.
And I’d like to think if we gave Renee a chance to do the right thing, she’d take it. ”
It’s a very Lyle thing to say. I also happen to believe it’s true.
He makes a considering sound.
“And,” I say, before he can jump in, “it’s the only thing I can do right now. I can’t do chores or paddle or even ride in a canoe. I can’t ask you to save the Love Boat if you’ll end up doing all the work. Especially if you’d rather let it go and start over. That leaves the podcast.”
He tenses underneath me. “And what if Renee comes after your reputation? What if they withdraw your job offer at Grey Tusk General?”
“Well, first off, I already have a job I love. I wasn’t looking for another one.”
His soft laugh sends breath shivering down the back of my neck.
“And second, they have a lot of convincing to do before I get back on board. If I take their offer…” I draw in a shaky breath.
“I’d rather go back because I want to. Because they’re lucky to have me, not the other way around.
I want the power to choose who I work with, and I want to not choose assholes. ”
“You should go back if you can,” he says, his voice thickening with emotion. “If they’re not assholes. You said the podcast was our chance—well, this is your chance. Anyone can see how much you love being a doctor, Stellar.”
I tighten my mouth, trapping a sound I’m afraid may be a sob if I let it go. “Yes, and medicine hurt me, too.” Some of the assholes are gone, but there are still people at Grey Tusk General who saw what was happening to me, and knew it was wrong, and didn’t speak up.
He tenses his arms fractionally, holding my broken pieces together. “We only hurt when we care. Avoiding it won’t stop the pain or the caring. You have to confront it sooner or later.”
“Later, then,” I say. “I want to focus on the Love Boat now, when it needs us. I care about this, too.” I care about you , I think, as loudly as I can.
“All right,” he says. “We’ll do the podcast. On one condition: I do the interview. Alone. Renee keeps your name out of it or we don’t play.”
“No! No way. Then you’re still doing everything, and I’m doing nothing.”
“We need you in the wings, Stellar. If the Love Boat goes down, at least one of us should come out of this with a job and an income. It’s not possible for me, but it is for you, as long as you can keep your reputation intact.
“And… I owe you one. You managed a dangerous situation alone last night. You gave Petra a way to leave Trevor and help us. You saved my dog . It’s my turn to protect you for a change. Take one for the team.”
It’s strange, but I flinch at the idea of scorekeeping when it’s coming from him. It feels like a river flowing in the wrong direction.
“I don’t like—”
“That’s the deal, Stellar J. That’s what I’m prepared to give. Take it or leave it.”
His heart beats steadily underneath my back, his chest rising and falling. If I close my eyes, it feels almost like we’re two souls in one body. Two sides of the same coin, always connected.
I don’t like his argument, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. He’s hearing me out and compromising even though he doesn’t have to. Classic Lyle—powerful enough to give his power away.
I can do that, too. I can give Lyle what he wants.
Give the Love Boat a chance without knowing whether I’ll get anything back.
I could care enough to love something and know I might lose it.
Be brave enough to get hurt and know I’ll heal.
I won’t be the same as I was before, and that’s okay. Maybe that’s good, even.
You need something , Liz told me barely three weeks ago. Or maybe it was a lifetime ago.
And I need this.
“Deal.”