Twelve Nights Of Temptation

Matt shot her a look of impatience, and she realized she’d stepped over the line. He was her boss after all.

“I’m just thinking that taking Monty’s Pride is a whole lot of fuel to waste,” she elaborated on her thinking. “We can save the money if I can do a quick repair.”

“We’re not even going to try a quick repair. I’ll move the passengers and crew over to Monty’s Pride while you fix whatever’s gone wrong.”

Tasha hated that her possible negligence would cost the company so much money. “Maybe if I talk to the captain on the radio.”

“I don’t want to mess around, Tasha.” Matt punched in the combination for the pier’s chain-link gate and swung it open.

“I’m not asking you to mess around. I’m suggesting we explore our options. Monty’s Pride burns a hundred gallons an hour.”

“My priority is customer service.”

“This is expensive customer service.”

“Yes, it is.”

His tone was flat, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or not.

She wished she was back in her dream. Matt had been so nice in her dream. They’d been warm, cocooned together, and he’d been joking, stroking her hair, kissing her mouth.

Wait. No. That was bad. That wasn’t what she wanted at all.

“I want Hans Reinstead to go back to Germany a happy man,” Matt continued. “I want him to rave to his friends and business associates about the over-the-top service he received, even when there was a problem. Whether we fix it in five minutes or five hours is irrelevant. They had a breakdown, and we upgraded them. People love an upgrade. So much so, that they’re generally willing to gloss over the reason for getting it.”

Tasha had to admit it was logical. It was expensive, but it was also logical.

Matt might be willing to take the financial hit in the name of customer service, but if it turned out to be something she’d missed, it would be a black mark against her.

They approached the slip where Monty’s Pride was moored. A crew member was on deck while another was on the wharf, ready to cast off.

“Fuel?” Matt asked the young man on deck.

“Three thousand gallons.”

“That’ll do,” Matt said as he crossed the gangway to the stern of the main deck.

Tasha followed. Monty’s Pride’s twin diesel engines rumbled beneath them.

“Is my toolbox on board?” she asked.

“We put it in storage.”

“Thanks.” While they crossed the deck, she reviewed Orca’s Run’s engine service in her mind. Had she missed something, a belt or a hose? She thought she’d checked them all. But nobody’s memory was infallible.

“It could be as simple as a belt,” she said to Matt.

“That will be good news.” He made his way to the bridge, and she followed close behind.

She had to give it one last shot, so as soon as they were inside, she went for the radio, dialing in the company frequency. “Orca’s Run, this is Monty’s Pride. Captain, are you there?”

While she did that, he slid open the side window and called out to the hand to cast off.

She keyed the mike again. “Come in, Orca’s Run.”

Matt brought up the revs and pulled away from the pier.

* * *

Matt knew he had taken a gamble by using Monty’s Pride instead of the repair boat, but so far it looked like it had been the right call. Two hours into the trip down the coast, even Tasha had been forced to admit a quick fix wasn’t likely. She’d had Captain Johansson walk her through a second-by-second rehash of the engine failure over the radio, asking him about sounds, smells and warning lights. Then she had him send a deckhand back and forth from the engine room for a visual inspection and to relay details.

He’d been impressed by her thorough, methodical approach. But in the end, she concluded that she needed to check the engine herself. There was nothing to do for the next three hours but make their way to Tyree.

It was obvious she was ready to blame herself.

But even if the breakdown turned out to be her fault, it wasn’t the end of the world. And they didn’t even know what had happened. It was way too early to start pointing fingers.

“You should lie down for a while,” he told her.

She looked tired, and there was no point in both of them staying up all night.

“I’m fine.” She lifted her chin, gazing out the windshield into the starry night.

There were clusters of lights along the shore, only a few other ships in the distance, and his GPS and charts were top-notch. It was an easy chore to pilot the boat single-handed.

“You don’t have to keep me company.”

“And you don’t have to coddle me.”

“You have absolutely nothing to prove, Tasha.” He knew she took pride in her work, and he knew she was determined to do a good job after her promotion. But sleep deprivation wasn’t a job requirement.

“I’m not trying to prove anything. Did you get any sleep at all? Do you want to lie down?”

“I’m fine.” He knew she was perfectly capable of piloting the boat, but he’d feel guilty leaving all the work to her.

“No need for us both to stay awake,” she said.

“My date ended early. I slept a little.”

Since his divorce had been finalized, Matt and his friend TJ Bauer had hit the Olympia social circuit. They were pushing each other to get out and meet new people. They met a few women, most were nice, but he hadn’t felt a spark with any of them, including the one he’d taken out tonight. He’d come home early, done a little Christmas shopping online for his nieces and nephews and dozed off on the sofa.

“You don’t need to tell me about your dates,” Tasha said.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Her tone was lighter. It sounded like she was joking. “It might help pass the time.”

“Sorry,” he said lightly in return. “I wish I could be more entertaining. What about you?” he asked.