Chương 4
She lay back.
Her roommate, Tasha, slept with one arm thrown over her face.
Maya stared at the underside of the bunk above her.
The incident returned piece by piece.
The shove.
Her own voice.
Adrian standing.
Vanessa’s expression.
Lena saying possibly fired in every way except the actual words.
Maya reached for her phone.
Three messages from her mother.
One from Lena.
One from an unknown number.
The unknown message was only four words.
This is Adrian Cole.
She stared at it.
Another message appeared.
Lena gave me your number after I promised not to offer you money, employment, legal representation, or a yacht.
Maya sat up.
The movement shook the bunk.
Tasha mumbled something angry and turned toward the wall.
Maya typed back.
That is a weirdly specific list.
His answer came quickly.
We negotiated.
She bit back a smile.
Then another message appeared.
I wanted to know if you were okay.
Maya looked at the small oval porthole.
The sea beyond it was pale blue-gray.
She considered several responses before choosing the shortest.
I’m not sure yet.
A typing indicator appeared.
Disappeared.
Returned.
Then:
Same.
That answer changed something.
She had expected gratitude, maybe apology, maybe the polished language wealthy people used when they wanted a stranger to feel recognized without allowing the conversation to become equal.
Same felt different.
Maya set the phone on her knee.
Tasha lowered her arm.
“Who are you texting at six twelve in the morning?”
“No one.”
“You’re smiling at no one.”
“I’m not smiling.”
“Your face is doing something.”
Maya threw a sock at her.
Tasha caught it without opening both eyes.
“Is it wheelchair guy?”
Maya’s head snapped around.
Tasha opened the other eye.
“Oh, damn. It is.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I work on the same boat you do.”
“You were downstairs.”
“Rich people gossip faster than crew. Crew just do it more accurately.”
Maya groaned.
“What have you heard?”
“That Vanessa shoved him. You told her off. He stood up. Grant almost inhaled a champagne olive.”
“There weren’t olives.”
“That’s the detail you object to?”
Maya climbed from the bunk.
“Has Lena said anything?”
“Only that no one discusses it with guests, anyone onshore, other crew, friends, family, social media, imaginary friends, or God.”
“She said God?”
“She implied God.”
Maya opened the tiny wardrobe.
Her uniform stayed where it was.
“What am I supposed to wear?”
“Are you working?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then sweatpants.”
“I don’t own sweatpants on the boat.”
Tasha looked offended.
“You live badly.”
Maya pulled on jeans.
Her phone buzzed again.
Adrian.
For what it’s worth, I told Lena I didn’t want you punished.
Maya typed:
For what it’s worth, that may make it worse.
A pause.
I suspected that after I said it.
Good instincts.
Recently acquired.
Maya read that twice.
She started to answer, then stopped.
Tasha watched her.
“You know he’s engaged.”
“Not currently, I think.”
“Yesterday currently?”
Maya put the phone facedown.
“Go back to sleep.”
“That means yes.”
“It means nothing.”
“Nothing is always the interesting one.”
Maya opened the cabin door.
The corridor smelled faintly of coffee and marine cleaner.
She walked toward the crew mess.
Halfway there, Lena appeared.
“Maya.”
“Am I fired?”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Good morning. Am I fired?”
“Not yet.”
“That’s comforting.”
Lena handed her a tablet.
“Incident report.”
Maya read the first line.
At approximately 21:17, a verbal dispute occurred in the forward observation salon between charter guests Vanessa Hale and Adrian Cole.
She looked up.
“You wrote ‘physical interference with mobility equipment.’”
“That is what happened.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
Maya scrolled.
Her own intervention was described without embellishment.
Hospitality attendant Maya Brooks approached Mr. Cole without instruction from a supervisor and verbally addressed Ms. Hale.
Maya winced.
“That sounds bad.”
“It was bad.”
“Fair.”
Lena folded her arms.
“Mr. Cole has declined to file a safety complaint.”
“That helps.”
“Ms. Hale has not.”
Maya looked up.
“What did she complain about?”
“You.”
“Of course.”
“She says you humiliated her in front of other guests and interfered in a private matter.”
“She shoved his chair in a public salon.”
“I am aware.”
“Does she know you are aware?”
“Maya.”
“Sorry.”
Lena took back the tablet.
“The charter management office will review it when we dock.”
“So I could still lose my job.”
“Yes.”
Maya nodded.
She had six thousand four hundred dollars in savings.
It had taken three years to accumulate.
Her mother’s property tax payment was due in October, though her mother insisted she could handle it. Maya’s last tuition installment for the accounting certificate was due in five weeks.
Six thousand four hundred dollars could disappear faster than anyone who had never had only six thousand four hundred dollars understood.
“What do you need me to do?”
“For now? Stay off guest decks.”
“Because Vanessa complained?”
“Because I am trying to keep this from becoming worse.”
Maya looked toward the staircase leading upward.
“Is Adrian okay?”
Lena stared at her.
“That is a guest question.”
“I know.”
“He’s fine.”
Maya nodded.
Lena sighed.
“And he asked about you twice.”
Maya tried not to react.
It did not work.
Lena pointed a finger at her.
“Do not make that face.”
“What face?”
“That face that creates paperwork.”
Maya laughed.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.”
Adrian spent the morning in the master suite with an ice pack against his thigh and his physical therapist furious with him over video call.
“You stood without the crutches?”
“It was four seconds.”
“How many steps?”
“One.”
“Adrian.”
“One and a half.”
“Why does the half matter?”
“Accuracy.”
Erin stared through the screen.
“You are not funny.”
“Not today.”
“You could have fallen.”
“I didn’t.”
“That is how people who almost fall describe falling until the day they do it.”
Adrian shifted.
Pain flared along the outside of his knee.
Erin saw his face.
“There.”
“What?”
“That.”
“I moved.”
May you like
“You hurt.”
“I’m alive. Occasionally those overlap.”
