Stuck in Paradise with You

Chapter 15

15

CARRIE

I try not to seem like a woman who’s never been around a billionaire’s play toys before but as I step onto the concealed swim platform of Joe Hettich’s 105-foot catamaran, Ella II , I’m gawking. My jaw is literally hanging loose.

Henry has pulled us up to the back of the superyacht and ties on the dinghy as Jenny offers me a hand to climb onto the million-star luxury accommodation.

‘What happened to you?’ I hear Alisha ask as Joe storms off ahead of me toward a huge lounge area, which has two dining tables either side of a walkway to the inside of the boat – ship .

Around the tables are white chairs with blue padded cushions and in the middle of the tables, surrounded by every snack imaginable, are vases of fresh flowers. Either side of the tables and under the shade of the deck are two lounging sofas, where Joe, Noah and Toby are lying – the boys playing on tablets and leaning back against their dad, who’s the epitome of relaxation: eyes closed, hands behind his head.

Alisha asks her question from where she’s sitting at one of the tables with what looks like a coffee in a cup and saucer, snacking on canapés.

‘Is there a beer?’ Luke grumps in response. Now it’s my turn to laugh at him . There’s a member of staff, dressed much like Henry and Jenny, whom I haven’t seen before, and she moves swiftly to a glass refrigerator on the deck.

‘Should I ask?’ Jenny whispers to me.

‘Just some beaten-up man pride,’ I tell her. ‘He won’t be touching my ass again anytime soon.’

Jenny smirks. ‘Welcome to the post- Barbie era, Ken.’

As we’re sniggering and making our way up to the dining tables, Henry appears at my side. He sets my bag down on a chair and says, ‘Come on, I’ll show you around before we raise anchor.’

I glance back across my shoulder to see the steward now has an open bottle of beer and she’s handing it to Luke. As she does, Noah says, ‘It’s noon somewhere, Uncle Luke.’

Ha, the kid’s funny.

I’m smiling as I follow Henry up an exterior staircase to what he tells me is the main deck. It’s another insanely large hangout area.

‘It can seat more than twenty people,’ he says. ‘Great for entertaining.’

He puffs up one of the pale-grey cushions that decorate the space, as if he can’t help himself.

‘I told you Ella ’s one hundred and five feet in length and she’s forty-seven and a half feet in beam.’

‘Beam? You mean across?’ I ask.

He smiles gently. ‘Sorry, it’s yachty speak. Yeah, in width, if you like.’ He’s kind, Henry, and he seems smart. I like him.

‘Coming off the fly bridge over there is a diving board.’ He points in the direction of the white board overhanging the serene waters. I can see fish swimming and much further below, rocks dug into the seabed. ‘You’ll have some fun on that when we get into deeper water.’

I’m not so sure, but I don’t say that. Being chicken isn’t really cool. ‘Sounds it.’

He gives a short laugh, like he’s got my number. I mean, come on, I’m a thirty-one-year-old tax advisor who spends most of her life between an office and the four walls of her apartment, and the most exciting thing I’ve done in my life was… Luke.

God, I need to get out more.

‘There’s a rainfall shower on the aft deck for when you get out of the water,’ Henry goes on, pointing to the rear of the boat and making his way down another set of stairs toward the front of the catamaran. I follow him and we arrive at what look like two giant trampolines between the two hulls. The ocean glistens beneath them, as if it’s lost a fight with an angry pot of glitter.

‘You can bounce or lounge on these and you’ll have the best view in the house from here once we set sail,’ Henry tells me.

I spring toward him, where he’s now as far forward as he can get and turning to look back at the boat.

‘There’s a crow’s nest there attached to the forward portion of the mast. You can ride it up to the second spreader and you’ll get an incredible view.’ Then he looks at me and adds quietly, ‘I like to snoop on people on other boats from up there, especially some of the celebs we get sailing around the islands.’

‘Now that does sound interesting.’ If Callum were here, I’d never be able to drag him down. He’d have on his star-spangled Speedos and a shameless super lens hanging around his neck. He is the font of all celeb gossip. My only source, in fact.

‘Oh yeah. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen from that crow’s nest.’

I chuckle. ‘I’ll look forward to you dishing the dirt.’

‘I’d have you up all night,’ he says, heading off again toward a glass window through which I can see the steering equipment and a man I assume is the captain fiddling with things inside. I know he didn’t mean anything by his statement but Henry has left my cheeks blushing.

It’s been a while since I was kept up all night.

A real while.

‘This is Captain George. Captain, this is Carrie, a friend of Joe’s.’

Friend seems a little generous, though I’m not a foe and he seems genuinely nice, just a little weird, and I’m certainly enjoying his hospitality, so… I accept the hand of the man wearing a brilliant white and pristinely pressed uniform, with four gold stripes on his epaulette. He could be front and center of a commercial for laundry detergent.

The captain and I make small talk, mostly because I have zero idea what to ask him after ‘where are we headed’ and ‘how is the weather’. I don’t know anything about fancy-pants boats.

The captain introduces me to his engineer as he passes by, then Henry points out the portside navigation station and a stairway down to what is apparently the starboard hull and the crew sleeping area.

‘Is the boat crewed all of the time?’ I ask, following Henry inside to the main interior area.

He nods. ‘Most of the year, yeah. Either Joe books it out for himself, or friends and family, or sometimes she’s in port. Regardless, she needs a crew to take care of her.’ He has stopped in an opulent passageway, with the kind of walls one might expect of a superyacht – burl veneers punctuated with gold trimmings, and the floor is covered in marble-effect tiles. ‘ Ella II is like a beautiful woman; she needs to be treated right.’

Is he…? Is there… like, a thing happening here?

Surely not. He’s young and hot and really ought not to have any interest in me at all, but the way he’s looking at me is… saying he does? Weird. Awkward. Totally inappropriate.

Yet, a little flattering, honestly.

I clear my throat. ‘What’s this?’ I ask, planting my hands on a table in the center of the wide corridor.

‘A buffet table,’ he says, letting his eyes linger on mine for too long before looking away. ‘The four doors you can see lead to state rooms. A master and three queen guest rooms. I think Ella has taken Char and Sanza for a nap in the master but the guest rooms are free. Would you like to see inside?’

I’m curious, so I really want to say yes and see how the other half sleep, but something tells me it wouldn’t be a good idea with this strange new dynamic I’m sensing to introduce the thought of beds and bedrooms and what people get up to in beds and bedrooms.

‘I’m good,’ I say breezily, moving away from Henry and deeper into the salon, as he calls it.

‘Starboard side.’ I watch him point to the right. ‘There’s another hangout space.’ He’s referring to a large L-shaped seating area with a huge wall-mounted flat-screen TV.

Inside, at a bar and preparing drinks, are two more female crew, with beautiful smiles, pearly white teeth, and immaculate chignons.

‘Port side.’ He points to the left. ‘This is the main bar for the stews to serve drinks. I help out on deck when I’m on the yacht but otherwise I’m based on island. There’re ten crew, when Jenny and I are onboard. You’ve got the captain and an engineer, an Officer of the Watch, Chief Stew – that’s Brittany, who you saw out on deck – Riley and Daisy here, also interior, Bosun, Jake, who’ll be somewhere sorting out the sea toys, probably. Then there’s me, acting as deckhand, and Jenny as an extra stewardess. Which leaves the man you’ll like most of all… the chef. He’ll be prepping lunch in the galley right now, so I wouldn’t advise we disturb him. He’s a bit of a perfectionist. Aka grumpy as hell.’

I chuckle, thinking of the stern chefs on Below Deck , then turning on the spot, taking in the sheer luxury of it all, mulling over his words, all I can say is, ‘Wow.’ I exhale at the enormity of it all. ‘It’s quite the enterprise.’

Henry gives a short laugh, eyebrows raised. ‘Everything with Joe is.’

Of course it is. He’s one of the richest men in the world. I couldn’t even conceive of having his kind of money. Not that there’s anything wrong with my little Manhattan apartment. It fits me, and Eddie, and Callum is right next door. Plus, I spend most of my life in the office.

But I’ll be damned if this trip isn’t making me think there’s got to be something more. Not money and things, but time. Time to enjoy things and people .

I don’t know at what point I stopped having time. When I decided to give it up. I wonder if anyone can ever get it back without jeopardizing everything they’ve worked tirelessly to achieve.

As if playing the role of the devil on my shoulder, the uncontrollable shrieking of Noah travels in from the aft deck. Through the windows, I see Luke pretending to throw the boy overboard, and Noah’s infectious delight makes my lips curve up.

Cute .

Sometimes, I think I’d like all of that – family life, happy kids. But I couldn’t have it with anyone if I had the slightest doubt about our relationship. Not after what I suffered between my parents.

Maybe that’s part of the reason I don’t really put myself out there and date a lot. I’m afraid of ending up with the wrong guy and terrified the right guy might not even exist for me.

More than that, logistically, I just don’t have the time .

‘Come on,’ Henry says, gesturing with his head toward outside. ‘You must be ready for a glass of bubbles.’

I check my watch. ‘Sure, why not?’ Like Noah said, it’s noon somewhere. In fact, it’s almost noon here.

We head out to the deck, where Alisha is drinking champagne, Joe is holding a cocktail and still lounging with Toby, and Luke and Noah are making their way back over to the dining table and snacks.

‘Don’t have too many of those; your mom won’t be happy if you don’t eat lunch, buddy,’ Luke says, all… paternally.

It thrusts my mind back to one of the questions of our past. Whatever happened to his baby? Was there ever a baby? Did he just want out between us?

I realize I’m watching him with a furrowed brow and slip my shades from my head to cover my eyes. Shielding me from him, or the other way around.

Brittany seems extremely nice, not least because she brings me a glass of fizz when I take a seat at the dining table near Alisha.

‘How do you like the boat, Carrie?’ Joe asks.

‘ Like doesn’t cover it. It’s incredible, Joe. Thank you for having me here and letting me gatecrash your time with family and friends.’

‘It’s nothing. I like to know the people I’m working with,’ he replies, and I watch him have some peculiar unspoken exchange with Luke. The kind that makes me feel like I’m being talked about behind my back. A feeling I remember from school days.

I never had a lot of friends at school, or growing up. I never felt like people really got me. Not until I thought one person got me completely.

How wrong I was.

Next thing, Henry is standing by me at the table. He strokes my arm – pulling me out of my head – as he says, ‘Let me know if you need or want anything, Carrie.’ He flashes me what is, admittedly, a most delectable half-smile, though it makes me cast my eyes to Joe warily.

I do not want him to think I’m flirting with his staff.

Is that what’s happening here?

God, this really is like an episode of Below Deck . Below Deck meets teen angst.