Page 13 of Capri

To say my father and I were not on the greatest of terms is an understatement. If he had his way from the grave, he’d rather sign the company off to someone without the Archer last name. I’m aware of my fuckups and the ones that likely led to my mother’s current gray hairs and my late father’s anxiety, but I’ve seasoned with age.

My twenties were what I like to call my experimental years. I didn’t take life seriously and fucked around with anything and anyone. To the extent of sinking one of my father’s most toured yachts into the Atlantic. I had no respect for valuable things and the feelings of those who came with them.

Not a day goes by that I don’t regret it. I’d like to think I was only young and stupid, but twenty-four is hardly considered too young to know right from wrong.

Losing Tommy destroyed me, and inheriting Archer Chartering forced me to grow up.

It also saved my life.

It’s daunting and unlike anything I expected to come from my time here, but I realized not long after that I was born to do this.

There’s privilege in the seas, in travel, in the beauty of the unknown.

I’m fortunate enough to meet foreigners from near and far, giving them a fun and memorable chartering experience, even if it’s just for a day.

Those trips are the fun ones. The ones that my family experienced when I was younger, making us fall in love with the allure of Italy.

However, I won’t lie and say I wish I had someone to share it with.

I’m only getting older and although I do everything I can to stay in shape and keep myself young, I haven’t been on a date, yet alone fucked a woman in longer than I can remember.

Work has always been my top priority.

Entering my office, I’m greeted by Romeo, my best friend and business partner. I hired him, along with my other partner, Luca, when I permanently relocated to Capri after years of rebuilding our brand, and they’ve been instrumental in making Archer Chartering succeed. It helps that they’re natives to the Amalfi Coast.

“There he is,” Romeo chants as I enter.

“Get the fuck out of my chair,” I tell him, nodding to his feet crossed on my desk.

“I just got comfortable,” he whines in his heavy Italian accent.

I cut him a sharp look, circling to where he stands and taking my seat. “Don’t you have yachts to clean or something more productive to do?”

He knows I’m fucking with him.

Romeo is thirty and the more reckless one of our trio—similar to the old me, except he’s still responsible.

“Hardly. He just got in,” Luca announces as he enters the office with three coffees in hand.

He hands me mine. “Thanks.” I nod. “What’s that supposed to mean? You just got in?” I turn to Romeo in question.

“More like an hour ago,” Romeo scoffs.

My brows rise. “An hour ago? It’s one o’clock.”

“Tell him where you were,” Luca says to Romeo, taunting him.

“Sure thing, snitch,” Romeo says to Luca before turning to me. “I met a woman.”

He met a woman? Now, that’s unexpected. Unexpected because Romeo never meets a woman he thinks is worth mentioning or remembering.

“What the hell, man? Your job is to open. What if a customer showed up to book with us? Your distracted ass wasn’t even here. This is a business.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Jones. I’m here every day like clockwork.”

“Maybe, but not today.” I love the guy, but his priorities are fucked. This doesn’t happen often with him, and that’s what has me questioning this woman he met.

It seems we both met a woman worth remembering.

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