Page 52 of Unmoored

It’s a 604 number—which doesn’t help, because it covers the whole southwest part of BC. “Murph here.”

“Oh, you’re there. Thank god. I know it’s early, I hope I’m not bothering you.”

I grunt. But customer service doesn’t go away just because I have a hot breakfast date, so I draw a breath. “It was a good moment. What can I do for you?”

“I’m looking to hire your barge on Saturday.” Before I can tell him that I’m booked for the whole month, he hurries on. “I saw your website calendar, and that was the one day that isn’t red.”

I frown. “That should’ve been blocked out.” Felix insists this will make things easier, but I still think it’s easier to update my voicemail message every week with our availability.

“Right. It was grey. I couldn’t click it.”

“Oh. So itwasblocked out. That’s my day off,” I tell him flatly. I wouldn’t be half as grumpy about it, except everyone ought to know that this weekend is Bathtub Race day, and the Nanaimo harbour will be jam-packed. Anyone with any kind of boat crowds into the harbour to watch.

“The race, right?”

Phew. I wasn’t going to try explainingthatat such an hour. “Yep,” I grunt.

“Yeah, so I need to be on the water, but I can’t rent a damn thing,” says the guy with a frustrated sigh. “I know someone with a little yacht, but he said it won’t even get into the harbour.”

Littleyacht? I laugh shortly. “Yeah, no. The good mooring is already gone, buddy. You’ll have to watch from the shore. It’s a better view of the finish line anyway.”

“Yeah, but I’m not just—I mean, I need to—I mean, okay, listen. How much would it take? I’m not even asking you to haul anything. I just need a boat.”

I’mnothosting someone else’s watch party instead of my own. Especially now that I finally have a new not-quite-boyfriend-yet to introduce to all of my brothers.

“Yeah. It’s a family day for me,” I tell him firmly. “Nothing comes above family.”

“Even love?” he wheedles.

Wait, what?It feels like bad karma to cut him off and hang up, and besides… I’m curious. I grunt, inviting him to go on.

“I’m proposing. My intended will be on the water, so… I can’t really do it from land, you know? I need to sweep him off his feet. And I can’t just buy a kayak. Prince Charming wouldn’t kayak. I need a mighty steed.”

Okay,nowhe has my attention. Besides the bald-faced attempt to manipulate me by complimenting my barge, that is. “Is he racing? Or in a follow boat?”

The guy laughs. “I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you it’s going to be an epic love story.”

I grunt. Obviously I’ll keep my mouth shut about it, but I’m curious. If this guy isn’t straight,andhe’s local enough to get involved in the race… I probably know who it is.

“Look, I’ll give you directions on the day. Do you have a specs sheet?”

“A what now?”

“The event planner wants to know about allowable decorations. Height, especially?—”

The door opens, and I turn around. Doug’s standing there with a little paper takeout bag and two cups of coffee. I grab everything in one hand with a nod of thanks, mouthing an apology, but he just waves me off.

Jeez. This guy had better wrap up the pitch soon, because as soon as I get home, I’m one short speedboat trip away from being… shall we say, uninterruptible.

“—and we’ll need to know how many musicians we can bring. And whether theyhaveto wear lifejackets. The violinists are being difficult, I’m told.”

Finally, he stops for breath, and I grunt. “Violinists. On a barge.” I juggle my phone, sticking it between my shoulder and ear so I can separate out one coffee cup. Then I frown, trying to work out how to drink it without dropping my phone.

“I know, I know,” he groans. “I was going to hire somewhere like, I don’t know, the Vancouver Art Gallery.”

Jesus. That’s the least humble brag I’ve ever heard.

Have they hired Celine Dion to sing while the bathtubs sink?

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