Thirty-One
“Hey, Marce, can you come up to the helm?” Dom’s call came in over the intercom. It was the afternoon two days after Justin and Natasha had left. The yacht crew had been given two full days off, and I hadn’t left my room much. Overhead, I’d been able to hear the sounds of the rest of the crew enjoying their days off—the rope swing was probably out again, and the Jet Skis had been zipping past—but I’d stayed in my room, quiet and moping. I wondered if Seb was outside with the rest of the crew.
Climbing the stairs up to the pilothouse, I replayed the fateful day on Odyssey when I’d been fired. Was this about to be a repeat?
When I knocked on the door, Dom called out for me to enter. The pilothouse was empty save Dom, and he gestured for me to sit in the chair next to him.
My h
