He looked confused. “There’s only one cabin.”
“Fore means the one in front.” She pointed to the front of the boat.
“Ah! I get it. I’m on a bit of a learning curve with all the nautical terms.”
“I’d be happy to give you a crash course,” she said, continuing to gesture as she spoke. “Fore means front, aft is the back area, port is the left side of the boat, and starboard is the right. Shall I continue?”
“Please do.”
“The ropes that attach to the sails are called sheets, some sails are called shrouds, and never, ever kill an albatross.”
Liam seemed entertained by her knowledge of nautical terminology. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled. “I don’t think I know what an albatross looks like, and this is the first time I’ve ever been asked to do custom work on a boat. Any advice you have, I’m all ears.”
“Do you know anything about her?” Anna asked. She ran her hands along the curved moldings of the countertops. She loved the creative ways boat builders used space, all the nooks and crannies and hidden shelves and drawers. Unfortunately for this boat, not much looked salvageable. And luckily for this boat, the owners had Liam in charge.
“Her?”
“Boats are referred to in the feminine,” she said.
“Oh. No, I don’t know anything the boat. My clients were thrilled when I told them I could get started on the reno from here. We’ll arrange to have it trucked to the east coast around the time I head back to New York.”
“No idea if there are any structural problems?”
He shrugged. “I assume that if it’s in the water, everything’s okay?”
“Ooh, I’d recommend seeing if anyone up at the marina office could check it out.”
“I’ll see what the owners say, but that sounds like a good idea.”
“What’s the plan for today, boss?” Anna pulled a fleece jacket from her bag. There was no heat in the boat, and the temperature drop while she was in Mexico signaled the coastal rainforest’s seasonal deluge was there to stay. She hung her rain gear over a hook in the galley.
“Clean out everything that’s not nailed down,” said Liam. “I want to get a clearer sense of the interior lines and for what can stay.” He hefted a lightweight crowbar and placed it near the sketchbook. “We’ll rip out anything that’s a definite no. I’ll take some pictures to send to the owners, see what they want to keep.”
“Have you checked out the head?” Anna asked. Liam looked confused. She clarified, “The bathroom. Sorry, I should have included that in your first lesson.”
“I have no idea where it is.”
“Where we’re standing right now is the galley, otherwise known as the kitchen and dining area.” Anna reached past him and opened the narrow door he’d been leaning against. The toilet was missing its lid, the ancient linoleum floor covering was cracked and peeling away, and whatever material had been used to create cupboards and countertops was not meant for long-term use at sea. She stepped to the side so Liam could peer into the tiny space.
“Oh, God,” he said.
“You might want to start in here with that crowbar,” she said.
He recoiled, and closed the door. “I hope that’s not indicative of what the rest of the boat looks like. Everything in there’s got to go.”
Anna grabbed the doorknob to the stateroom in the front of the boat. She was enjoying showing off her knowledge. And appreciative he wasn’t being a Mr. Know-It-All. “Only one way to find out. You ready?”
“Not really, but I don’t think I have much choice.”
The door opened inward, revealing a triangle-shaped room trying to pass for a high seas bordello. Built-in seating to the left and right, as well as the thicker cushions in the oddly shaped sleeping alcove, were covered in burgundy crushed velvet, a fabric Anna hadn’t seen since the early 1990s. Throw cushions were decorated with twisted gold braid, and tarnished brass wall sconces held colorless plastic flowers.
“You have to take pictures of this.” Her eyes went wide, and her mouth gaped. She took a tentative step into the room and tested the mattress with her hand. The old foam compressed and stayed that way under the pressure of her touch.
“You know,” Liam said, awe and wonder in his voice, “with a little TLC, I think this room could be incredibly inspiring.”
He felt for her shoulders, and tugged her away from the bed. He switched places, flopped onto his back, and patted the space beside him.
“Care to join me?” He waggled both eyebrows and attempted an unsuccessful leer as puffs of dust settled around his legs.
Anna crossed her arms and appraised the man in front of her.
One week ago, she was deplaning in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, nervous and excited about spending three days with Daniel Strauss, A-list interior designer, aesthete, and former flame.
One week ago, she was more disposed toward rekindling the embers of that flame than she was toward pursuing anything long term with Liam. If the Daniel option offered a steady breeze across her embers, the Liam option guaranteed a ready conflagration that would burn hot but not for long.
One week ago, she didn’t know if she had enough fuel left in her fifty-year-old body to feed a sustained passion. In this moment, as Liam appeared to balance on the edge of hopeful and I was just teasing, she made up her mind.
“Wait right there.” She was about to suggest something she’d never considered. Ever. That morning, Liam asked her to bring along any unused drop cloths she had lying around in case they were needed to protect the boat’s interior surfaces. She pulled two old, cotton sheets from her bag. They might be threadbare, but they were clean.
Clean enough for fooling around.
“Stand up,” she ordered.
He jumped at the tone of her voice and scooted forward to come off the bed. Anna opened one sheet and spread it over the dusty burgundy covering. She turned to her long-legged
