Chapter 8

Margie seemed to have all the answers with six shots of tequila in me, but as I approach the boat at Big O Excursions, I doubt her wisdom. First, she talked me into letting my company air a piece of the footage with Cameron. It made me look like an ass, and Cameron didn't fare too much better. About half of the emailers say she's a gold digger, trying to trap me into giving her money regardless of whether I offer her a million. And the other half wonder why in the world I would try to sue her over something so miniscule.

Now, she has me surprising Cameron on her own boat.

I take a breath and ask, "Orlando, is Cameron around?"

"What do you want from her? Haven't you done enough? Your company isn't just threatening her, they're threatening me from making money and doing what I love."

"I'm sorry. I'll work it out, but I need to speak with Cameron. Do you mind if I wait for her?"

His chin drops to his chest. "She may kill me for letting you on her boat, but Mr. Worthington, the captain will be here any moment. If she asks you to leave, then you'll need to respect her decision."

"I understand."

The film crew steps onto the boat with the cameras pointing towards the marina as Cameron's long legs confidently march to me. I decide not to step foot on the boat unless she invites me. It's time to prove to her I'm a good guy. She already thinks I'm a rich asshole who can do what he wants, and I'm not giving her any more ammunition. I need to get this taped to satisfy the board members and public relations.

Cameron stops five feet short of reaching me and peers at the cameraman on the boat, then spins her gaze back to me. "Well, well, look who decided to trade in their designer loafers for a pair of practical athletic shoes. Is your company attempting to make you look blue collar, Mr. Billionaire?"

"I prefer to think of it as an adventure, Captain. Besides, I could use a break from the endless boardroom meetings and stuffy suits. And wouldn't want to miss out on the pleasure of your company, of course."

I can banter too.

"Oh, I'm sure spending time with an arrogant, know-it-all billionaire is just the excitement I've been waiting for in my life. Who knows? Maybe you'll even learn a thing or two about responsibility while you're here. But let's not get our hopes up too high." The lilt in her voice has me questioning whether she's serious or just having a little fun at my expense. And if I'm honest, it's part of the reason I'm attracted to her. I can't figure her out.

"Listen, I want to learn the correct way to catch something big. Can we do the segment?"

The cameras have been rolling since they spotted her walking up, so at least I can say we tried if she kicks me off.

She folds her arms across her waist and taps her toe against the wooden board. "On one condition. You have to do what I say. It's my way or the highway. Or I'm dropping you in the middle of the ocean to swim back."

With a closed-lipped smile, I move to the side, allowing her a clear path to the boat as I follow. Her legs are something out of a fitness magazine. She's sexy as fuck.

"Morning, fellas," she chirps to Orlando and my crew.

"Morning. We have a group of women coming to fish." Orlando continues to go through some boat lingo that I don't understand. "Our afternoon charter is a memorial."

"Okay, come with me," she says, looking my way.

One sentence, and my mind and dick only hear one word… come.

Making her come would be the highlight of the last five years for me. Have I made women orgasm? Yes. Have I cared whether it was the best? No. There's only been one woman who made me want to drop everything for, and she's gone.

Cameron shows me the instrument and explains how each of them works, then she points to the digital map and the sonar fish finder.

"So, that's how you knew we would find fish in that spot last time."

I'm behind her, looking over her shoulder, and I take in the fruity scent of her shampoo. Her hair is twisted on top of her head like before, and she's sporting sunglasses just like the day we met.

"I've been doing this a long time, Mr. Worthington. Yes, the sonar helps me. I want my clients to have a good experience, so they spread the word. Not go back to work and say, ‘Nope, didn't catch a thing.'"

"I was an ass, and I want to apologize."

Cameron steals a quick glimpse at me. "Saying you want to apologize is not the same as apologizing," she challenges.

My skin heats at her defiance. No one else dares to challenge me in the way Cameron does. And I can't believe I like it. She has a talent for getting under my skin, a skill only my brothers and closest friends possess. Ignoring the warning bells ringing in my head, I reach for her elbow and guide her to face me. I casually place my sunglasses on top of my hat before adjusting hers onto her head. As she inhales sharply, an unfamiliar sensation leaves me unsettled. There's a storm brewing in her eyes, making it difficult for me to decipher what she's truly feeling.

"I'm sorry," I utter sincerely. My hand slides from her elbow to her hand. My fingers linger longer than necessary, although I don't understand why. Cameron gently withdraws her hand, her actions speaking volumes louder than any words could convey—she doesn't like me. But I feel something I don't want to feel. Not with her. Not with anyone.

High-pitched screams come from over my shoulder, and Cameron brushes by me.

"Ladies, thank you for choosing Big O Excursions for a day of fishing and celebrating."

More screams. Why did I listen to Margie?

When I turn around, the women look like they came from a photo shoot. One has a green floppy hat that matches her floral bathing suit. The other reminds me of my fiancée. She has a lightweight gauzy button-up shirt, and her hair is in a bun. I'm not sure how long I stare. My stomach sinks, rolls, and does somersaults but not in a good way.

I force myself to move in the opposite direction and ask, "Orlando, what can I do to help?"

He points to a full glass curved bottle. "Pour the mimosa into the plastic clear cups and hand them out."

I bring the tray from underneath the cabin, and everyone onboard listens as Cameron gives her safety speech.

"Okay, ladies, you're here to celebrate, and I'm going to help you feel powerful by catching a large fish today that you can go home to your partners and brag about. You'll have the groomsmen salivating over the fish we catch today."

They holler and as I pass out the mimosas, they raise them in the air before knocking them down their throats.

"Now, sit down, ladies, and put your life jackets on while we taxi out into the waters."

I follow Cameron where she puts a knee on the tan vinyl seat and her hand on a gear, pushing it backwards. The boat moves slowly out of the marina. She seems to be at peace on the water and doesn't say word for at least ten minutes. "So, are your corporate lawyers still coming after me?"

"All you have to do is take the video down."

"Are you serious? You said it was awful what the lawyers were doing to me until you found out you were the one in the video. You're a spoiled brat."

"Surely, you understand how that makes me look. I'm part owner of one of the most powerful companies in the world."

"Yeah, it says you have poor listening skills, trouble with authority, and you think your penis knows everything."

I feel a grin threatening. Holding back produces a half-laugh. "Why are you thinking about my penis, Captain?"

"Oh, for God's sake," she huffs and leaves the boat idling as she stomps down the four steps back to the guests.

Even if the crew has captured the moment, it's my company, and I'll make sure that part is edited out.

Orlando and Cameron shout instructions and this time, I listen. Cameron and I may not get along, but I want to prove to her that I'm willing to follow directions.

Two hours into the excursion, the woman who looks like my late fiancée has a bite on her line. Instinctively, I move beside her and feel Cameron's unyielding gaze on my back. "What's your name?"

"Elena. I can't believe I'm going to catch something." Her voice is filled with excitement, and she's happy, just like my Phoebe.

"Sit in the chair so he doesn't pull you in." I swivel around, looking for the long-legged captain. "Cap, she has one. Do you want her to keep it in the rod holder?"

She runs up to her sonar. "What do you think?"

I roll my eyes because she's referencing my inability to follow directions the last time, but something about the captain's sass and authoritative tone has my mind wondering.

Elena frowns. "But I still want to feel how strong it is." Her words carry a hint of sensuality, but there's no stir of desire down below.

Since the rod is securely fastened in place, I guide her hands to the spot where the bend begins. "Do you feel his strength?"

Elena nods with a hefty smile.

Cameron maneuvers the boat back and forth as she struggles with the fish, until it finally bobs to the surface and calls out to Elena, "Okay, reel him in."

Elena can't manage it alone, so I assist her by covering her hand with mine. The powerful tug on the line from the thrashing fish feels like a ton of bricks on the other end.

As her friends cheer and scream excitedly, Elena and I keep up the fight.

As the minutes pass, Elena releases and asks if any of her friends want to try. The blonde sidles up beside me with her bare skin rubbing against my side. "She's getting married, you know. But if you're looking for a good time…" Her fingernails trail over my hand. "We're having a cocktail party tonight at Enzo's."

Enzo's is a place I frequent. The chef is a friend of mine and occasionally, Phoebe would have him cook at our penthouse.

The fish decides to jump, snapping me from my subconscious, and I finally get that baby to the surface. It's beautiful, covered in red shimmering scales that fade into pink, then to blush, reminding me of the dress Phoebe wore the night my world changed.

Orlando and Cameron descend upon the fish, taking out the hook. Cameron rubs her hand over the scales. "Red grouper. Nice. Mr. Worthington, help Orlando weigh it." She hands me some gloves. "You'll need these."

After pulling them on, Orlando and I pick up the four-foot-long fish, weigh, and measure it while Cameron gathers the women for a photo. Elena stands in the middle, and the women now have bragging rights when they go to Enzo's tonight.

We lower the fish back into the sea, and he glides through the water. I take a glimpse of Cameron, back at the helm, turning the boat around and heading back to the marina.

When we dock, Elena approaches me. "Thanks for your help. For some reason, I feel like we knew each other in another life."

What? My body goes completely numb.

"Mr. Worthington, she said thank you," Captain Cameron says as she touches my back.

The tightness in my chest isn't supposed to be there anymore. It's been five years.

"You're welcome," I manage to choke out as I swiftly pivot and retreat into the bathroom downstairs, letting the cool water splash onto my face. Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, I lose track of time as I stand before the mirror, trying to compose myself.

When I finally emerge, I'm met by cameras waiting to capture my every move. The intrusion of their presence jolts me back to reality, reminding me of the facade I must maintain in front of the public eye.

"Would you all please leave me alone?" I snap, the frustration and exhaustion evident in my voice. I realize how I had forgotten about the constant surveillance, being engrossed in the simple pleasure of fishing on the vast blue waters.

Cameron's voice cuts through the tense atmosphere as she taunts me, her words laced with sarcasm. "There's the true Mr. Worthington. Unable to uphold that fun-loving face for long, huh?"

The mockery in her tone strikes a nerve, making it harder for me to control myself. Instead of making another scene, I place my sunglasses over my eyes, turn my hat bill to the back, and stride past everyone. "Fuck life," I mumble.