I wasn’t sure how long I stood there looking up at the sky, but it was long enough for my neck to start hurting. I rolled it a few times and rubbed the back of it with one hand before I turned toward the boat, leaning my back against the railing.
Then, my eyes caught on a different light shining above.
The owner’s suite was on the next deck up, the windows large and wide, offering sweeping views of the water. There was a soft, warm glow coming from the lamps inside.
And a silhouette of a man.
It was hard to make out more than a shadow, but it looked like Theo had his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed, his hair a bit mussed. From this angle, I couldn’t be sure where his eyes were focused.
They were probably on the sea, or perhaps the stars. Maybe he was watching the shoreline, the twinkling lights of the homes peppering the land. Maybe he was looking over his yacht, noting what his hard work had bestowed him.
But that pinch in my chest painted another scenario.
And I swore I felt those magnetic eyes on me.
I woke the next morning to Joel wrapped around me like a bear, his arms and legs tangled with mine, a thin sheen of sweat forming where our skin met. I didn’t mind the warmth, though, and I snuggled into him until he groaned and peeled himself out of bed far too early for my taste. But he had work to do, and he was out of the cabin before the sun had fully risen.
I took my time, showering and trying to tame my hair before dressing for the day and making my way up to the main deck. Bagel in hand, I snuck up to the sun deck while it was still vacant and took some stunning photos of the sunrise. I played with the aperture and shutter speed, varying the focus from the yacht to the water to the shoreline in the distance.
“Enjoy the peace while you can.”
I jumped, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw Wayland. He smiled and leaned his elbows on the railing next to me, sunglasses-covered eyes cast toward the shore.
“We’re landing in Saint-Tropez a little earlier than we thought,” he said. “And Theo just informed me we’ll have our first guests onboard.”
“Oh?” I asked. I liked that Wayland was talking to me. He didn’t seem to talk much to anyone other than Captain Chuck, and he had a thick, unique Jamaican accent that I could listen to all day.
He nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, Theo is a wonderful owner and we’re all lucky to work for him. It’s much better than a charter,” he added with a shake of his head. “That said, he has some… interesting friends and business partners. So, just be prepared.”
I chuckled. “Well, I can just disappear into my cabin.”
Wayland smiled my way, clucking his tongue. “Ah, no such luck, I’m afraid.”
I arched a brow.
“Captain asked me to inform you that you’ll have your first assignment onboard this evening,” he said, tapping the railing in front of me as he stood straight again. “Theo has requested you join him and his guests for dinner, drinks, and entertainment.”
“To take pictures,” I realized.
“Indeed.” Wayland took a deep breath, eyeing the shore again. “Are you feeling sick still?”
I frowned.
“Joel mentioned you’d felt a little seasick the first day.”
“Oh,” I said with a flush. “I think it was just nerves. I’m fine.”
“Good,” Wayland said decidedly. We stood quietly next to each other for a few moments before he added, “If you really want a lifestyle worth capturing, you need to come to Jamaica.”
I smiled. “Oh yeah?”
Wayland pressed his lips together with an affirmative nod, like I had no idea how amazing the island was and there was no way for him to truly convey it. “The food, the music, the people — one of a kind.”
“You’ll have to show me someday.”
“It would be my pleasure,” he said, knocking on the railing. “But first, let’s see if you survive the day.”
He said it as a joke, but all the humor left me with my next breath, one that made me grimace at the thought of what I was about to be thrown into.
Wayland chuckled. “Just remember to smile, do as they ask, and stay out of the way. Oh, and don’t take anything too personally.” He shrugged, already walking backward toward the stairs. “Remember, these people are so rich they never needed manners.”
He tipped an imaginary hat in my direction, and I hummed a little laugh, shaking my head as I turned back to the shoreline with the pink sky slowly turning blue above it. And though I’d only been awake a couple of hours, I found myself thinking of a nap.
It seemed I would need all the energy I could muster.
The sand-colored buildings that sprawled the Saint-Tropez shoreline looked almost pink as we pulled into the port. Emma informed me that there weren’t many ports the yacht could dock at, and that usually we would anchor a ways out and take one of the two small tenders stored in the lowest deck to shore.
As it was, we pulled up to the dock and I took photos as Joel and the other deckhands rushed about, tying lines and using what looked like giant, oversized yoga bolsters that were bigger than me to keep the yacht from scraping the dock when we fully pulled in.
There was a small group of people waiting on the dock, and when Theo made his appearance on the main deck, they all cheered in unison, hollering out various greetings and jokes as Theo smiled and held his hands out as if to say yes, it is I, your King.
Eric gave me a flat look, one that told me he was about as excited about having guests aboard as Wayland was. I thought I heard him whisper something like good luck as he passed me on his way to help Joel at the front of the boat. And I swallowed, holding tight to my camera as Ace held out his hand and helped each of the guests onboard.
There were three women and two men, and the women rushed forward first, one of them running toward Theo and flinging herself into his arms. He caught her easily and spun her around, kissing her cheek, and I snapped a photo of the moment while ignoring the pinch in my stomach at the sight.
The woman chattered on excitedly as the other two girls slipped into Theo’s arms, close and familiar, sharing kisses and warm greetings. Two of the women looked like they could be twins, with long, thick blonde hair and dazzling white smiles outlined by lips painted pink. The other one had auburn hair that glowed a fiery red in the setting light of the sun. Every single one of them was dressed opulently in form-fitting dresses, oversized hats and sunglasses, high heels and designer handbags.
I guessed the no shoes rule didn’t apply to them.
I continued taking photos from a distance as Theo greeted the men next, who were decidedly quieter and calmer, though they seemed to poke fun at each other as they shook hands. Once everyone was onboard, Theo squeezed the shoulder of the taller of the two men, as if to exert his dominance over the group with just that one gesture.
“Welcome aboard the Philautia,” he said with a wide grin. And right on cue, Ivy and Celeste appeared with trays of champagne, their uniforms pressed and neat, hair pulled back into tight buns.
Our new guests all clapped gleefully, and once everyone had a glass of champagne in hand, they clinked the expensive crystal together in celebration.
Click.
I’d successfully stayed hidden until the moment they each took a sip and I snapped a picture. The sound had heads turning in my direction, and one of the blonde women — the one who had thrown herself into Theo’s arms — arched a perfect eyebrow over her bedazzled Gucci sunglasses. “I didn’t realize we had paparazzi, Theo,” she said in a thick French accent.