Page 21 of After the Storm

“Right!” Sean nods before continuing, “if it turns out to be more severely beached, then you two will be in charge of grabbing us supplies, that sound alright?”

“It sounds great! Thank you for asking me to come.”

We finally arrive at the location and sure enough, there’s people crowded around a shark thrashing in the shallow water. Rick and Sean push through the crowd of people as Maryanne and I follow closely behind. Once we’re there on the shore, it’s obvious the shark will just need a push into deeper water.

I’m not proud of the momentary disappointment that I feel when I realize I won’t get to help after all. Although, it just means less stress for the shark which I can’t complain about. Still, I’m ecstatic to be here. Even if I only get to watch from shore.

Rick and Sean wade out into the knee deep water and start grabbing the tail of the shark to pull it out far enough that it can swim away on its own. They struggle some as the shark jerks back and forth, and the tourists scream as if they think Rick and Sean are going to be eaten. After a few minutes of hard work, the two men are able to pull it into deeper water. A few thrashes later, the shark is swimming away.

“That was amazing!” I gush as they walk back up to Maryanne and me.

“Maybe next time, we can do something to get you a little more involved,” Rick chimes in as we turn to return to the van.

The entire drive back to the rescue I’m full of smiles and thank yous for letting me tag along. They remind me a hundred times that due to the short staffing, it was a favor to them. In no time I’m back at my desk filling out paperwork and trying to stifle the stupid grin still plastered on my face.

Just like that, I forgot for half a day how bad things are right now. I think about the last few weeks and all of the ups-and-downs of it all. For the first time since that rainy night, it seems like I’m looking back on the past, not living in it. I know the hard times aren’t over, but it feels like I can catch my breath for once.

* * *

Afternoon rollsaround when Maryanne comes over to my desk with a bright smile on her face.

“There’s a gorgeous boy here to see you. Says he has lunch,” she says with a wink, like I should know exactly who she’s talking about. I have a pretty good feeling it’s either Ares or Roman, given the circumstance.

“Did he give you a name?”

“Oh goodness, I figured you knew about this. He said his name is Roman.”

Excitement bubbles in my chest when I hear his name leave her mouth. It’s crazy how much our dynamic changed recently and how close we’ve become.

“Oh! Yes, he’s a friend of mine. I just didn’t know he was coming. You can send him in.”

Maryanne walks back out of the office. A couple minutes later, Roman walks through the door and smiles at me, pointing to the bag of take-out in his hand. He looks—good. So good.He’s wearing white shorts and a orange and white striped button down to match and it’s all I have in me to drag my eyes away from the vintage looking lantern tattoo on his upper thigh.Oh lord, I’m gawking at Roman Dawkins.

“I come bearing food.”

“Don’t hold out on me, what’s in the bag?” I ask, attempting to see inside of it.

“Hibachi, I hope you like chicken and rice.”

“Duh, who doesn’t like chicken and rice?”

We sit in peaceful silence eating our food and I try not to think about the way I felt seeing him walk in the door today. How his thighs look in those shorts or the little sliver of his chest that’s showing at the top of his shirt.Okay, so I’m doing a bad job.

“So, how’s work been today?” he asks, breaking the silence and, thankfully, my spiral of thoughts.

“Oh my gosh, it was so good! Can I tell you about it?” I ask excitedly.

“Of course, that’s why I asked.”

“When I got my job here, it was for desk work only and I knew that. I didn’t have the qualifications for anything else. It was close enough to what I loved that I took the job anyway. But today, I got asked to go on a rescue!” I gush. “I got to watch the whole thing, Roman. It wasamazing!”

“What kind of rescue was it?”

“Beached shark.”

“What kind of shark was it?” he asks.

I’m a little shocked that he cares enough to give me more of an opportunity to talk about it.

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