Chapter 4

FOUR

Jesse

“Easy, Nessa. There’s enough for everyone.”

The giant manatee didn’t listen, gobbling up the greens I’d just throw on the top of her water like she’d never get fed again. Never mind she got fed three times a day, every day, for the past decade.

I scowled at her and moved on, dropping the bucket behind me with a crash, and picking up the next two, one in each hand. These contained a congealing mess of fish guts I knew I’d still smell on me tomorrow no matter how hard I scraped my skin when I showered.

I crossed the entryway into the next exhibit, and walked over the metal grates. “Dinner time!”

I dumped the mess from one bucket over the side of the tank, and the three seals flocked toward me immediately: Huey, Dewey, and Louie. I rolled my eyes every time I went into their enclosure. The owner of the aquarium I interned at was a Disney adult of the first degree. He donated all the money, so he got to name the animals.

I made my way to the opposite corner and dumped the second bucket. The last seal was older and rarely felt like fighting the younger ones for food. I fed him separately.

“Eat up, Donald.”

Tasks finished for the day, I gathered my empty buckets and entered the large janitorial closet. I turned the water on and started hosing the buckets down.

Oh boy, if my mother could see me now. Waist deep in fish guts and covered in blood. When I’d imagined becoming a marine biologist, doing grunt work in an aquarium hadn’t exactly been part of the overall dream.

Then again, neither had losing my scholarship.

So here I was.

Never mind that my entire life plan had smashed itself to pieces.

You’re going to have to tell them soon.

I pushed that thought away and stacked the buckets with a little more force than necessary. I’d rather think of happier things.

Like Blondie.

No. Not him. He’d apparently come to his senses after a blistering kiss that had curled my toes and he had fled. No number, no Netflix and chill, no Instagram handle.

Oh well, his loss. I was hilarious and a decent cook: a goddamn delight.

I made it to the locker room and quickly stripped out of my wetsuit. I hung it on the hook to dry overnight and made a quick change into an A-line black cocktail dress that flattered my figure. I pulled on knee-length leggings underneath, applied the barest traces of makeup, and slipped my sandals on. I’d change into my low heels once I got there.

I clocked out and burned it out of the aquarium, my fingers fumbling with the lock on the bike rack, trying to unlock it and get out of here. The lock was old and stuck often, but everything was so close in this tourist city that getting a car made little sense. As if I could afford it, anyway.

“Jesse! There you are!”

Inwardly, I groaned, but the lock popped open into my hand, freeing my bike from the rack. I spun around with a fake smile on my face.

“Archie. I thought all the interns were done,” I stammered.

Unlike the pariah I was, Archie was still an official member of our college’s—his college’s—program. As the son of the dean, he could likely murder someone and not get kicked out. I tried not to sneer as he tugged on the collar of his embroidered polo shirt that marked him as part of the scientist division. No cleaning tanks or scooping seaweed for him.

“I have permission to stick around and watch while the scientists do some real work, and not the kid stuff they do when we’re around,” he scoffed, folding his arms and leaning back against the building, a smirk stretching his lips.

I rolled my eyes. “Great. If you don’t mind, I have less than an hour to bike over to Calash for my other job. So I’ll just—”

His hand reached out toward my bike but I grabbed it with two hands and leaned away, recoiling. His touch was so demanding, rude, and completely unwanted.

I swatted Archie’s hands away and swung a leg over my bike.

Archie’s expression soured as he backed away. “If you took me up on my offer, then you’d be back in the program like that.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis, his expression that of a benevolent god bestowing a gift upon some poor, tortured mortal.

Me being the tortured mortal, of course.

Rage flooded my body. Yeah, I knew what his little offer entailed. I tilted my head toward, smiling once more. His body relaxed at that.

Idiot.

“And here I thought you’d gotten the hint the first time I knocked out your teeth. You think I wouldn’t do it again?” I leaned toward him menacingly. To my glee, he took a step-back, half-covering his mouth with a hand. I was one of the few people that knew his pearly whites were fake veneers after the last time he’d tried to catch me alone. It was one of my proudest accomplishments to date—more so than almost qualifying for the state swim meet my senior year.

Seeing Archie’s fake teeth reminded me of Blondie’s perfect dentals. Those teeth had been the real deal.

“You’re a fat, dumb bitch,” Archie spat. “You’re lucky you didn’t get put away for assault. My father—”

“Knew how many witnesses there were to what you said to me, and then what you tried to do. Don’t lie,” I spat back and swung a leg over my bike, tucking my skirt into my leggings so it wouldn’t catch in the chain. I could have let it go at that, but I wanted to twist the knife a little more.

“I wonder what your fiancé would say if I shot her a little text about what you did, and about what you keep trying to do?”

His face went purple with rage, but he fell silent and backed off.

Coward.

“Piss off, Archie,” I sneered.

My tires spat gravel up in his face, and I pedaled as hard as I could for as long as I could. Once I reached the shoulder of the main road, I let the tears fall. I had about a forty-five minute ride. Plenty of time to have a small-sized cry, purge what feelings I had for my miserable existence, then put on a smile for customers.

Archie knew how devastated I’d been to get kicked out of the program for something I had no control over. But I’d do it all again in a heartbeat versus taking him up on his stupid offer: he wanted a fuck buddy while his betrothed was away in Spain on a fellowship. Archie claimed that in exchange for my unquestioned willingness and resulting silence, he’d get me back in the program, no questions asked.

I hated rich boys who had daddies in high places.

Most of the time, I told him to fuck off. Other times, it was more difficult. Like tonight, when I raced from one job to the next, desperate to make ends meet. Or when I was cleaning up puke from some snot-nosed kid in the bathroom, and accidentally ran into my old group of fellow students, heads bent at a nearby table, eagerly debating the newest technique they’d learned.

When they saw me, they always got quiet and nervous. Embarrassed, even.

God, it hurt.

Those times, I half-considered it. It would suck, but not as much as telling my grandparents I’d been kicked out of the program.

Actually, I wasn’t sure which one of those things would be worse.

I pedaled harder, relishing the burn in my muscles. I didn’t care if I sweat through my dress, or arrived with my hair a frazzled mess around my face. It felt good to expel my demons physically, if not in reality.

The evening lights twinkled against the waterfront as I passed restaurant after restaurant, and microbrewery after microbrewery. Festive lanterns hung on outdoor patios, and the sounds of live bands hit me here and there as I quickly passed them. The crowds were light now, but starting tomorrow tourists would start arriving for spring break, or as we referred to it ‘hell week.’ For us, anyway. The owners loved it and hated it because as rude, loud, and demanding as the spring break crowd was, those kids were loaded. Many businesses made more from this upcoming week than they did all summer.

The scent of the ocean hit me in the face, along with the smell of rotting fish and seaweed: the Calash docks.

Why did I stay at the aquarium? I’d make more as a waitress.

You don’t care about money.

And didn’t that just suck? I knew I couldn't let go of the aquarium. Doing so meant letting go of my dreams; of me. I couldn’t do it, not yet. Plus, the aquarium offered better wages than the other jobs nearby and a bit of health insurance. And I cared about the animals.

Somehow I had to.

At night, I served cocktails and drinks to the wealthy patrons aboard the Lucky Lady , a notorious gambling boat that made eight trips out to international waters a week. I hadn’t been happy at first, but it was one of the few jobs that was completely compatible with the aquarium.

I hopped off my bike and dug out my lock, attaching it to a rusting bit of metal next to the dock. The water bobbed up and down over the heavy barnacles on the wood, sloshing gently in the tide.

“Jesse! Come on! Captain wants to leave early!”

Groaning, I grabbed my bag. I’d have to finish changing on board.

Racing down the wooden dock, I hopped aboard the boat. Javi met me with a dashing smile and took my hand to help me over the large step to get on board. He was already primped to go, looking sharp in a black suit with a blood red tie. The large stud in his ear sparkled under the dock lights.

“Cutting it close,” he joked, but with no real fire. He knew how hard I worked, and everything else about me, for that matter.

“I know,” I groaned, leaning into his hands as I got my bearings under me as the boat rocked and swayed in the wake of the larger boats heading out. He gave my shoulders a quick squeeze and I groaned, relishing the mini massage.

“Asshole-in-chief decided to delay me,” I admitted.

Javi frowned, letting go of me. “He’s still stalking you? You should really tell someone.”

“Right. I’m lucky I didn’t get charged with breaking his stupid face. I can ignore him. It’s under control.”

Javi sighed and threw his hands in the air. “Whatever. You’re a big girl.”

He followed me to the back room, and I quickly shucked off my pants and traded my sandal flats for kitten heels. I fluffed out my hair with my hands and turned to him for inspection.

“Well? Not too bad, right?”

Javi stood back, an introspective look on his face and his hand on his hip. A finger trailed his lip as his eyes roved over me. One finger crooked out at me. “Come here.”

I obeyed, stopping in front of him and turning around. His hands deftly took my thick strands of hair in his fingers and he expertly twisted and tucked.

“Got a hair tie?” he asked.

I held up my wrist, and he fished the black band off of me. My head jerked back and forth as he finished up, pulling a few strands free to frame my face.

“Now, turn around.”

I did so, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Javi knew more about fashion and makeup than I ever could, so I had to trust him. He dove into one of the other worker’s cubbies, coming up with a shade of bright red lipstick.

“That’s Mara’s,” I warned, narrowing my eyes.

“Such a big brain, Miss Science Pants,” he cajoled, smearing a bit on his fingers, then applying it to my lips. “Besides, she’s on maternity leave. She’ll never know.” He studied me. “Perfecto. Let’s go peep on the patrons.”

Javi and I threaded our way through the claustrophobic corridor of the tiny boat and up to the kitchens. We hid behind the push-through doors, peering out through the circular windows to get a glimpse of our patrons for the night.

“Mike said they’re classier than our normal folks,” Javi admitted. And indeed he was right. The first few people to be helped on board were dressed to the nines in tuxedos and long, sparkling cocktail dresses.

I raised a brow. “What’s the occasion?”

“Something with the university. Higher ups doing higher up things.” He watched me carefully for a reaction.

I tried to keep my face blank, I really did, but my heart seized in my chest, my throat tight as faces swam in front of me; the same professors who’d ruined my life.

As more people came on board, I recognized them one by one: the dean of my department, who’d been at the hearing where he’d informed me I was no longer a student. On his arm was his blonde wife, tittering softly and fluttering her eyes at everyone. A few of my professors were also present, looking unsure but thrilled to be there as they moved to take a seat at the tables, since dinner would get served shortly.

The president of the university herself came aboard next, three men (including the dean) falling over themselves to assist her with the step from the dock to the boat. If I wasn’t so triggered, I might have laughed.

“Well then,” Javi huffed.

“You two make better doors than windows,” gruffed Miguel, the head cook.

We moved to the side and I put my back to the door, swallowing heavily. “I don’t think I can do this,” I said weakly.

Javi’s eyes darted back and forth from the guests to me, even as Miguel grumpily pushed an hors d'oeuvres tray into his hands.

“If you want to bail, I’ll cover you. I’ll think of the nastiest excuse: diarrhea, or you were blowing chunks over the side. Or your period! Better yet, your period gave you diarrhea and then you started blowing chunks.”

Miguel glared at me in silent warning, as if I were about to do it all his food. I ignored him. Gratitude heated my insides and gave me warm fuzzies from Javi’s support, but I knew I couldn’t just run away from my problems. As tempting as it would be.

“I can’t leave you alone with all the work,” I protested.

Javi snorted. “Ah, but you forget how charismatic I am. And I’d get all the tips from these rich bastards.”

I pushed him playfully, and he flashed me his debonair smile. The faux-diamond stud in his ear winked at me.

“Still trying to find that sugar daddy to whisk you away from here?” I teased.

He sighed as if living were a burden. “One day my prince will come.”

I laughed and knew I could get through this. It wouldn’t be fun, but I’d survive.

Like everything else in my life.

A bell chimed overhead, announcing that we were pulling away from the dock. That meant it was time for drinks and appetizers. I fixed a cheesy smile on my face and headed to get another plate from Miguel.

“Atta girl,” Javi encouraged.

I made it through cocktails. I made it through appetizers. We had even cruised most of the way through dinner service with no issues, and the evening was drawing to a close. I took drink orders from most of the patrons without incident, Javi working his magic to ensure I didn’t personally serve or have to deal with anyone who knew me directly.

He was an absolute angel.

But I knew it wouldn’t last forever. There were only twenty people on board, and the two of us served them. It was inevitable it would go wrong sooner or later.

“Excuse me, a refill.”

I flinched as my former dean held out his glass toward me, not even turning his head from the poker game in front of him. Breathing hard, I grabbed the glass and abruptly turned away. A glance up showed Javi was already on his way to intercept me and take the order himself.

A hand landed on my upper arm and I froze. “Hey, you look familiar.”

I swallowed heavily, my eyes flicking up to a face with dark eyes and quivering jowls. Streaks of gray marred his hair and sideburns, the slight glaze in his eyes belying how completely sloshed he was.

That enraged me more than being grabbed. How dare he sit here and gamble and drink while callously ruining lives? How dare he stare me down that day months ago, destroy my life, then not even recognize me!

I snatched my arm back. The rest of the table paused, glancing up at me with interest as well at the sudden tension. From my dean’s right-hand side, my professor’s eyes widened with dawning horror.

Good .

I was sick of the bullshit.

“Yeah, you recognize me,” I said.

Javi grabbed the back of my dress, his fingers bunching tightly in the fabric and pulling.

“Ex-nay on the issyness-pay,” he growled in my ear.

I shoved him off and focused on the dean. “You kicked me out of the program claiming I was ‘morally bereft.’ Because you’re all so godly and everything. Well, that was your excuse. We all know it’s because Archie tried to rape me, and god forbid you hold him accountable for anything.”

My hands tightened around the glass as I glared at them all, gambling and drinking, daring them to prove me wrong. It would feel so good to throw the glass against the wall and watch it shatter. Not here, though. Not now. Even if they deserved my rage.

“Jesse, please—”

“And where were you?” I pleaded with the one professor, her face twisted in discomfort. I glared at them all. “No one argued for me. No one helped me. I lost everything.”

This time I started to let Javi drag me back toward the kitchen, but I had one last thing to say. I jerked forward and squared my shoulders. I looked all of them in the eyes.

“Archie Davenport tried to rape me in the aquatics lab, but got caught by a room full of interns. I’m here and he’s still there. Take that up with your so-called ethics . Christian university, my ass.”

Javi yanked me back through the double doors of the kitchen, past Dan, the befuddled cook, and into the large refrigerator in the back. Once the door closed behind us, I burst into tears.

Javi sighed. “Tips will suck tonight.”

“You already collected most of them,” I protested.

“That was stupid of you,” he shot back.

“I know,” I choked out.

“This is gonna have consequences.”

“I know ,” I bit out, distress shooting through my veins.

“You’re going to get fired,” Javi breathed out, his hands tangling in his dark hair. If he was accidentally mussing his carefully styled hair, shit was bad.

Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes, hot and burning. “I KNOW!”

His arms came around me, and I sobbed. My life was broken and shattered, and it felt so fucking unfair.