Bait & Hook

17. Making Ready

A week since I was last aboard. Eight days, actually. Didn't want to risk missing a message from Roxy. Hadn't realised there's a phone app until she told me yesterday. No need now, though – we're in personal contact. Except I still have nothing but her screen name and avatar. Strange. Is she still interested?

Why wouldn't she be? We'll be sailing, and she'll have the opportunity to create magic in the galley – two of her interests. But me? Am I among her interests? The warmth of her hug when we parted last evening. That showed more than just friendship. And the lip brush. Not a real kiss. But not no kiss. And she volunteered it. Why hadn't I taken it further?

I shook my head as I moved my fingers from my lips and boarded Tastevin, thumbing the security pad and receiving a green light. Priorities – start the laundry first. Fresh towels, kitchen and table linens, bedding. Bedding? Hmmm! Desire and hope might be misinterpreting here. But just in case we progress to that. Besides, it needs changing. What else?

As I unlocked the doors and descended, a musty smell greeted me. Yeah, closed up for over a week. Should have left a bit more ventilation – but I didn't know it would be this long. Good thing I've given myself lots of time.

I laid my portfolio and phone on the nav table, took my bag to the master cabin, stripped the bed, gathered the used towels and linens, and started the washing machine.

With the bed made and fresh towels hung, I swept, mopped and dusted. Then with the galley counters and stovetop sparkling, and the laundry tumbling in the drier, I settled into the couch with a double espresso and my iPhone.

No new message. Almost an hour before she's here. Crazy. Haven't felt like this since university – the first few dates with Gillian.

Don't go wallowing again. Focus on now. On what is. On what might be.

She's so beautiful. But so fragile with her grief. Tough and determined woman to sail to the Aleutians alone. Even more so in that boat. And accomplished. A doctor – more than that, a specialist. And a captivating conversationalist.

I took another sip of coffee, wondering what I can offer her. Friendship, a sailing buddy, a dining companion. Hopefully, a bed mate. We toyed around with that a lot last evening. Was that just from the wine? I hope not.

But to her immediate need – someone to help her with financial matters. What level? A doctor, a specialist, so her holdings must be substantial. Plus whatever she inherited from her – her what? Still stuck on a better term for late husband. Passed on? Departed? Euphemisms for what we seem unable to say. Dead. I blew a loud, deep breath.

Anyway, best I refer her to a CGMA at one of the big six. Better still, give her one from each to choose among – her holdings might be at one of them.

I entered my phone again, went to Safari and logged in, then at the touch of a bookmark, the list of CGMAs filled the screen, and I squinted. So awkward on the phone. Should have done this from home – or brought my computer. Maybe pop up and get it.

With a glance at the time, I shook my head. No, she might be early – as she had been last evening.

Finally, with six selected and dropped into a folder, I sent it to the printer, the familiar clicking and whirring confirming the connection.

What next? I downed the last of my coffee as I looked around. Up top to wash the decks. Watch for her arrival.

I blew another loud breath. Damn, she affects me.

Hope she feels something for me.