Page 35 of The Billionaire's Teacher

“One already dissipated. The other is strengthening.”

“Heading this way?”

I felt his eyes on me. “Right now? Yes.”

“Should we plan to stay here? Find a place to shelter?”

I shook my head. “We have a day or two before we need to make that call. And the models are showing it heading north. I think it’ll miss us.”

Wes nodded. “Okay.”

I glanced over. Just that? No argument? It was a good reminder that he trusted me to know what I was doing. He relied on that. Wes had put his life fully in my hands, and I didn’t need to get distracted by whatever random hormones had decided to rear their heads, and end up making a mistake.

I gestured for him to turn left as we reached the end of the marina parking lot. “It’s down this way a couple blocks.”

“Okay.” He looked around. “It’s quieter here.”

“It is. They don’t get as much tourism. No cruise ships. No major airport.” It was one of the reasons I liked it down this way. Fewer crowds. Better, quieter dives. And none of the open-air markets designed to sell trinkets at all costs. Oh, sure, they had a market, but it was for locals. And the trinkets that were there weren’t peddled aggressively.

“I like it. It’s a more relaxed vibe.”

“Relaxed is a good word. Definitely applies to just about everything down here.”

“That’s good. It’s one of the reasons I started my dive shop.”

“Relaxation?”

“Yeah.” He shot me a grin. “Having never owned a retail business before, I didn’t really understand just how not-relaxing parts of it were going to be. But it’s still better than dragging myself through traffic every day to a job that I didn’t love to sit in a cube for eight or nine hours doing work that I knew the client would change the next day. Or a week later. Or whatever. It was never going to be right.”

I chuckled. “Never had a job like that, but it sounds awful.”

“It was okay when I didn’t have options. But the money gave me options and suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“If you didn’t have the money, you’d still be working there?”

Wes was quiet for several moments. “Probably, yeah. They paid well. I could afford my mortgage. I could eat out with friends. Pursue hobbies. It wasn’t a bad life. I was happy.”

“And now? Are you happier?” I kept my gaze focused ahead. The juice stand was just visible in the distance.

“I’m probably the same happy. The General—my mom’s husband—always says happiness is something you choose, and I tend to agree. But I’m more content now than I was.”

“Which is also something you choose.” I’d done a lot of wrestling with the idea of contentment after Luca died. Along with happiness and joy. Wes was right that happiness was a choice. So was contentment. And joy? That came from Jesus.

“You’re right.” He nodded. “So that’s on me. But I feel like what I do matters a lot more now. Maybe a dive shop doesn’t seem like a place where someone serves Jesus and makes a difference in the lives of others, but it does to me.”

“I think you serve Jesus and make a difference for people no matter where and what you do. Because that’s a choice, too.” I slowed my steps as we approached the juice stand. I lifted my hand in greeting. “Hey, Danny.”

Danny, short and stocky, with wavy black hair and tan skin, turned. His brown eyes lit and I felt his gaze drift over me from head to toe. “Chica. You came back.”

My smile was tight. “I’d like you to meet Wes Allen. I’m showing him around the islands. All the good dive sites.”

Danny’s gaze flicked over to Wes then back to me. “You’re here to dive? I’ll take you. You know there’s a storm.”

It was a clear dismissal and I prayed Wes wouldn’t be offended. “I do. I also know the storm’s far enough away and projected to turn. Beverly said she wasn’t shutting things down.”

Danny’s head tipped to the side as if he heard my unsaid “Yet.”

He nodded. “Anything you’re hoping to see?”

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