Page 71 of Falling Overboard

She was going to tell the captain. She would tell him how incompetent I was and he would fire me and then I would never reopen my nonna’s bakery. Everything would be gone because Emilie couldn’t be bothered to do her job, because Sasha couldn’t be a nice human.

And after I got fired, I would never get to see Hunter again.

I was nauseous; I needed to get to a toilet. I hurried to my cabin and went immediately into the bathroom.

Kneeling over the toilet, I felt sweat pouring down my back and a stabbing sensation in my chest. I was on the verge of a panic attack, which I very much did not want to have. I sat on the floor of the bathroom and began my breathing exercises.

I wished Hunter were here to hold my hands. I closed my eyes and pictured it and somehow it helped. My breathing got easier and my legs stronger, so that I was able to stand up and splash water on my face.

The cold shock of the water also made me feel more myself, reminded me where I was. Grounded me.

I glanced up at the shelves and saw his cologne bottle. I picked it up and took off the lid, taking a deep sniff. It so reminded me of him that I found it calming me down even more. He chose then to come back into our cabin. I began fumbling the bottle and it was a minor miracle that I didn’t drop it and douse the entire bathroom.

“Lucky?”

I got the bottle back onto the shelf and quickly checked my fingers to make sure I hadn’t accidentally spilled any. There would not be a logical way for me to explain why I suddenly smelled like him.

Not detecting any rogue scents, I came out into the cabin.

“There you are. What did Sasha ...” His voice trailed off as he looked at my face. “What happened?”

He sounded a bit angry. I told him everything, how mean she had been, what she had said. His jaw got tighter and tighter.

“The Carmines jinxed us by being so nice,” I said. “The universe needed to rebalance by giving us nightmare guests.”

“That bridal party are all starving,” he interjected. “It’s why they’re so terrible.”

I tried to smile. “Pasta really does make the world a better place.” I let out a big breath. “Then I got Sasha the champagne and was worried that I was going to have a panic attack so I came back here. I didn’t have one, though, because I thought about ...”

My earlier resolve to tell him how I felt was completely gone. Especially after Sasha’s attack. I felt too raw to be rejected.

“What did you think about?” he asked in a quiet voice.

As if he knew.

Again, I had that pang of wanting to be honest with him. I couldn’t, though. So I settled on, “Something that made me feel better. I’m just worried she’ll go to the captain.”

“Even Captain Carl can see how awful these guests are,” he said.

“He’s not supposed to,” I countered. “We live by ‘never let them see you sweat.’ Everything can go completely wrong just so long as the guests and captain never know.”

“The guests know how they’re acting. I’ll go and say something to that bride right now,” he said, his jaw still tense.

I put my hands on his arms to stop him from leaving. “No! That would be the worst thing you could do. We’ve all had to put up with so much from them. Let’s not fumble this at the one-yard line.”

“A football reference?” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile and I felt the tension leave his body.

“Yes, football. I’m trying to speak to you in a language you’ll understand.”

He nodded. “I also would have accepted ‘loose lips sink ships.’”

Now I was the one smiling. “Sasha’s not worth losing our jobs over. I do hate how small she made me feel. That I let her make me feel small and didn’t just let her words roll off my back.”

His clenched jaw returned. “Understandable, given how horrible she was being to you.”

It was then that I realized I still had my hands on him and dropped them back down to my sides.

“Do you know what would cheer you up?” he asked. “White Christmas.”

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