Chương 2
Daniel had loved the yacht immediately.
Too immediately, perhaps.
The first time she brought him aboard, he had stood at the aft railing and said, “This is insane.”
Then he had kissed her temple and added, “You realize no normal person knows how to act around this, right?”
She had liked him for saying that.
Most people pretended not to notice money while noticing nothing else.
Daniel noticed and made a joke.
Later he learned the crew’s names, tipped generously, asked Russell about the engines, and never demanded anything Evelyn had not offered.
At least not where she could see.
Vanessa looked toward the upper deck.
“How many people up there think this is his?”
Daniel said, “Would you stop?”
“No.”
“Vanessa.”
“You brought me onto someone else’s yacht.”
“Our situation with the yacht is—”
“There is no our,” Evelyn said.
He looked at her.
She had not raised her voice.
She did not need to.
The muscles around Daniel’s eyes tightened. “Fine. Your yacht. Congratulations. You own a boat.”
Maya, still waiting near the upper landing, lowered her gaze.
Evelyn felt the insult land somewhere strangely distant.
Daniel had been beside her at the hospital when her father died.
He had held her hand while an oncologist explained that the numbers on the screen were no longer meaningful.
He had made coffee for her mother in a paper cup and remembered to put two packets of sugar in it.
He had sat on the floor of Evelyn’s childhood bedroom afterward because she could not sleep and had listened while she complained about the absurd number of condolence lilies delivered to the house.
For three years, Daniel had been the person who knew when to leave her alone.
For another two, he had slowly become one of the reasons she needed to be alone.
Evelyn looked at his champagne.
“Give Maya the glass.”
Daniel frowned.
“What?”
“The flute. It belongs to the yacht too.”
Vanessa made a sound that might have been a laugh if she had not looked close to being sick.
Daniel’s face flushed.
“Jesus Christ.”
He handed the glass to Maya.
She took it carefully.
The ring remained at the bottom.
“Please put the ring in an envelope,” Evelyn said. “Return it to Mr. Cole with the rest of his things.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You’re serious.”
Evelyn turned toward the stairs.
“Completely.”
He caught her wrist.
It was not violent.
It was familiar.
That made it worse.
Evelyn stopped.
Daniel released her almost at once, as if he had remembered that there were crew members nearby.
“Five minutes,” he said.
“No.”
“Five minutes in private.”
Vanessa folded her arms. “That should go well.”
Daniel looked at her. “Can you please not make everything worse?”
Vanessa’s expression changed.
Evelyn saw the precise moment humiliation replaced shock.
“Me?”
“Not what I meant.”
“You lied to me about who owned the yacht and I’m making things worse?”
“We’ll talk.”
“No. Apparently you talk enough.”
Evelyn continued up the stairs.
Daniel followed.
“Ev.”
She did not stop.
“Evelyn.”
She reached the upper deck.
The dinner had not stopped, but it had altered.
People were pretending harder.
About twenty guests had spread across the aft salon and open deck. A jazz trio played near the bar. Several conversations continued at unnatural volumes. Two people stared too intently at the Miami lights in the distance. One of Daniel’s prospective investors, a gray-haired man named Robert Keene, was examining his phone while his wife asked a steward for sparkling water.
Evelyn understood then that whatever Daniel had intended for the evening, the confrontation on the stairs was only a small part of the problem.
Robert looked up.
“Evelyn.”
Daniel stopped behind her.
Robert smiled uncertainly.
“I didn’t realize you were joining us tonight.”
Evelyn’s eyes moved to Daniel.
Daniel said quickly, “Evelyn had another dinner. Schedule changed.”
Robert nodded.
“Glad it did. I’ve been wanting to thank you.”
“For what?”
Daniel’s body became very still.
Robert seemed not to notice.
“For getting behind Harbor North.”
Evelyn heard the name.
It meant nothing to her.
Daniel spoke before she could.
“Robert, tonight’s supposed to be social.”
Robert laughed. “I know, I know. No shop talk. My wife’s been threatening me all evening.”
His wife, Ellen, raised her sparkling water. “I’m still threatening.”
A few people smiled.
Evelyn did too, automatically.
Then she asked, “What is Harbor North?”
The silence around them was not complete. The trio kept playing. A steward opened a bottle near the bar. Somewhere inside, a cabinet door closed.
But the people closest to them stopped pretending.
Robert looked at Daniel.
Daniel said, “It’s an early concept.”
“For?”
“A marina and hospitality investment vehicle.”
Evelyn waited.
Robert cleared his throat.
“I may have misunderstood.”
“What did you understand?”
Daniel stepped closer to Evelyn. “We can discuss it later.”
She looked at him.
“Robert asked me a question.”
“No, you asked him one.”
Robert’s wife touched his arm.
Ellen had the expression of a person who recognized a private disaster developing and had no desire to be recruited into it.
Robert seemed to recognize it too.
He said, “Daniel can explain. We were introduced on the basis that there was family-office interest. Preliminary. Nothing formal.”
Evelyn looked at Daniel.
“What family office?”
Daniel’s voice hardened. “Don’t.”
It was barely audible.
Evelyn felt cold spread through her stomach.
Cross Family Capital was not a sprawling Wall Street institution. It was a private investment office created after her father sold a controlling interest in the shipping-services company his grandfather had started. Evelyn chaired its investment committee. Her mother held a minority economic interest through a trust. A small professional staff managed assets, grants, tax matters, and direct investments.
Daniel had no position there.
He had attended dinners.
He knew people.
He knew just enough to sound as if doors stood open for him.
Evelyn looked at Robert.
May you like
“There is no Cross Family Capital commitment to anything called Harbor North.”
Robert’s expression emptied.
