Below Deck Ch. 06

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I knock on the door and hear Kathryn’s familiar “Enter.” I walk to the table and set her breakfast down as she moves away from the control panel at the front and strides over to me, the four golden stripes on the shoulders of her Epaulettes gleaming in the sun’s rays. Her chocolate hair is impeccably pinned back, not a strand out of place. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago, I was kneeling below her slender tanned body, looking up at her with those now tamed locks strewn all around her face and shoulders as she attentively watched me buring my face between her legs.

Wrapping her long arms around my waist, she bends forward, pressing her lips against mine, making time stand still. Breaking my trance, she gently pulls away. When I finally open my eyes, I see that a sly half-smile has overtaken her amused face.

“What?”

“I can smell myself all over your mouth,” she replies coolly. “Didn’t you wash your face this morning?”

“I wanted to keep you with me today,” I quip, albeit entirely serious.

Still holding me, her smile gone, Kathryn just stares into my eyes, briefly alternating between them before releasing me and sliding into the chair at the table.

“That’s not a bad idea. It’s going to be a few days before we can see each other again. Charter and all that…” she trails off. “You’re going to be a very busy girl.”

I was slightly disappointed that she didn’t engage with me further about the night we shared together. Her façade was so difficult to break through sometimes, and I silently wished that she would allow herself to be more vulnerable with me.

I decide to try another way. “Are you going to miss me?”

I watch as she raises her mug to take a sip, peering at me over the rim. God, she really knew how to make moments excruciating.

She sets it down, leans back and half-drapes her arm over the backrest, turning towards me in the chair.

“I’m planning something for us around 7 on the last day of charter. The guests disembark at noon, and I figure you and your team will be able to get the boat sorted by 6 o’clock or so, no?”

Her response catches me off guard. My mind is racing. Something planned? The guests leave on Friday; suddenly, four days from now somehow seemed so far away and yet not far enough. Once again, my simultaneous excitement and anxiety from the unknown clashed for dominance.

I refocus and realize that Kathryn is just sitting there patiently, staring back at me.

“That’s right… I don’t foresee any issues,” I reply, more collected than I feel at that moment.

“Excellent. I’m really looking forward to this, Lucca.” She flashes her famous warm smile that I now realize only manifests when earned and begins to bite into her toast.

I make an attempt at not showing my excitement.

“I guess I will see you Friday night then. I’ll be available on the radio if you need something from me.” I turn to walk out of the Bridge.

From somewhere behind me, I casually hear, “I don’t need anything from you, but I may want something from you.”

And there it is, I think to myself – her ambiguous meanings that have come to instill butterflies in me.

Honestly, her wit was one of the sexiest things about her.

I continue to get more lost in thought as I descend the stairs – and it’s not that I wouldn’t see Kathryn before Friday, but I stopped counting any ‘on charter’ meetups as actually ‘seeing’ her. Honestly, I hated being on charter these days. Doing so meant that we couldn’t have any lingering get-togethers, even for a brief moment, for fear of being walked in on. When guests were onboard, we never knew where they might stroll to. In fact, they were well known to venture down restricted hallways, opening every unlocked door out of curiosity and even frequented the Bridge unannounced. So, I understood Kathryn’s concern and why she was nothing but professional when we were on charter. Much as I hated her professionalism at times. In truth, the hate was just a substitute for missing her, really. Jesus, when had I become so infatuated with her? And – wait, what did she actually mean when she pointed out that she didn’t need things from me – only wanted them?

My head immediately clears as I enter the Dining Room to find Quinn and Willa frantically running around, placing the last pieces of table décor in the center of the table.

“Jesus Christ, guys! It’s nearly 8 o’clock and you aren’t in your Epaulettes! Go change – NOW! And hurry!”

They both look up, pause, and then sprint out of the room as I hear “Lost track of time, Chief!” from Quinn before she disappears around the corner.

The day flies by uneventfully. Our charter guests consisted of four guys in their mid-thirties taking a ‘boys trip’ in the South of France, away from their girlfriends and wives. For the most emek escort part they appeared to be well-behaved, but then again it was only the evening of day one. In my experience, guests tended to get rowdier the longer they were on board. I had always assumed this was because they began to feel more comfortable, but perhaps it was because they began to feel more entitled – less ‘I’m a guest here’ and more ‘I own this boat and you all are my wenches’ type of thing.

Of course, multiple days of heavy drinking never helped this mindset, either.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By Wednesday afternoon, the group had begun to wear on me as well as on the rest of the crew. It was all Quinn and I could do to just get finished with making new drinks before they’d need yet another round, or Bobby and his boys putting away all the water toys before they decided that, yes, they would actually like to use them again.

Dinner ends late, with the guys spending over an hour on each course, picking at the food and guzzling drinks like it was going out of style. It’s just after 11PM when the group finally gets up from the table and starts heading to their cabins.

“I thought they’d never fucking leave,” Quinn exclaims breathlessly as we finish clearing the table. “This day can fuck off right to hell.”

I just laugh. “You’ve done enough. Go get some sleep. See you tomorrow in the Main Salon at 8AM.”

Quinn just places her hands together in a praying fashion and lopes out of the room.

After ascertaining that James doesn’t need any help cleaning up in the galley, I head back up to the Main Salon and do a walk-through.

“Heyyyy,” I hear from behind me. I twist around, caught off guard.

It was Colton, the primary charter guest – or the one who paid for the yacht.

“Hi, Colton. Doing okay? Anything I can get you?”

“Yeah, I’ll take another drink. Patron,” he points at the bar in the corner as he stumbles his way over to it.

Fuck. This guy needs another drink like I need a hole in my head.

“Sure, not a problem,” I oblige.

I pour his shot and look on with an exasperated look as he attempts to down it, spilling half on the front of his button up.

He slams the glass down. “So where ya from?”

I really was not in the mood to swap life stories with this drunkard.

“San Diego, originally. Live in Orlando now.”

“I love Miami, he ignores. Go there all the time. Great clubs,” slurring slightly.

“Awesome.”

Normally, I wouldn’t be this curt with paying guests but knew that he would be too drunk to remember my rudeness and lack of enthusiasm tomorrow, so I played it to my advantage.

“So who ya boning on this boat? Bobby’s pretty ripped. You guys all just sleeping with each other, or what? How does that work?” He leans forward on the bar, falling a bit further forward than he meant to.

“I’m not boning anyone, and even if I were, it’s not an appropriate question.” I brush him off.

“Oh, I get it. You have a boyfriend back home that you don’t want to find out. Well, I won’t tell him,” he states confidently, as if what he had just said made a shred of sense.

“As it turns out, I’m single, but I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” I start to walk back out from behind the bar to finish what I was doing. Colton grabs my hand and pulls me towards him.

We’re an inch apart now as I push him away from me. “Colton, what are you doing?! Please don’t grab at me.”

I go to walk away for a second time, and he pulls me towards him again. This time, I trip forward at the force and he wraps his arms around me from behind, whispering into my ear. “What happens on the boat, stays on the boat, right? I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” I shout as I try to wriggle out of his grip.

“Come on. Come with me to my cabin. King bed. You’ll love it. I bet your cabin is really cramped.”

“Leave me alone, Colton!” I snap again.

“Get your hands off of her,” a quiet but audible voice emerges from behind us.

Colton releases me and we both spin around, startled. The voice is Kathryn’s, and there are daggers in her eyes.

He now places an arm around my waist. I could not believe his boldness.

“Nothing to worry about, Cap! Lucca and I were just getting better acquainted here…” he trails off as he looks down at me. “Don’t worry, she’s single!” he adds with a wink, as if that somehow made it okay.

I push his hand off of me. “I’ve already asked him multiple times not to touch me.”

Kathryn stands there in silence for a moment, looking back and forth between us, before advancing.

Ignoring me, she stops an inch from his face, her eyes boring into his soul. He was tall, but she was taller and she towered over him. Barely a whisper, she states, “If you ever lay so much as another finger on her the rest of the charter, I will personally see to it that you are sent out into sea eryaman escort on a life raft for the Marine Nationale to pick up. And you can explain to them that you’re just an insolent little American boy who didn’t quite grasp the concept of keeping his hands to himself back when he was in kindergarten.”

Colton’s face drops as he involuntarily takes a step backwards.

“Woah! I was just playing around, lady!” he backtracks as his hands rise in front of him.

“Didn’t mean any harm. Fuck’s sake! Anyway, I have a girlfriend!”

“Oh really,” Kathryn retorts. “Funny, I would never disrespect my girlfriend like that, so I find that difficult to believe. But if you were truly just ‘playing around, as you call it, perhaps we should give Amy a call and ask her what she thinks.”

“Your girl-” He cuts himself off before the weight of Kathryn’s second statement interrupts his original thought. A look of bewilderment overtakes his face.

“I make it my business to know everything about everyone that comes on board this boat, Mr. Wright. I also saw that you listed Amy as a secondary point of contact on your preference sheet.”

“Yeah, I – well, I – no need -” Colton trails off again.

“Then I am so very glad that we have an understanding,” Kathryn returns coldly.

She remains standing where she’s been for the past few minutes. We all continue staring at each other – me at Kathryn, Kathryn and Colton back at one another.

Finally, Colton turns to leave. She waits before he’s exited the Main Salon before turning towards me.

Kathryn’s left hand instinctively rises to rest on my waist before quickly being brought back down to her side. She promptly surveys the room before locking eyes with me again.

Incredible how the one person’s hand I didn’t want to touch me wouldn’t stop, and the one person’s hand that I wanted on me is not allowed to be there, I think to myself. Oh, the irony.

“Are you okay, Lucca?” I can hear the uneasiness in her voice. She goes to lift her hand towards me again before clasping it with the other one in front of her.

“I’m fine. Nothing happened. Just a drunken man who’s used to getting what he wants,” I reply flatly. I can see the relief in her face with my response.

“So am I, but I never take without asking,” Kathryn jokes to lighten the mood.

I smile knowingly before becoming more serious. “Which girlfriend were you referring to that you would never disrespect?” I inquire, hoping to get insight on whether she was actually referring to me. Far-fetched, but my heart skipped a beat at the thought.

“Oh, just in general,” she plays the question off. I don’t know why I was expecting any less, honestly. This woman.

Kathryn adds, “Well, Lucca. I’m heading below deck for the night,” before leaning in. Her lips are nearly touching mine as she breathes, “Sleep well, Elle.” She lingers there for a moment too long, and as I start to close the gap between our lips, she abruptly pulls away. “And lock your door the rest of this charter,” she throws over her shoulder.

I watched, mesmerized, as Kathryn’s elegant frame glides across the room and turns into the hallway. If her backside didn’t signal that she was leaving, I think it might otherwise be my favorite angle of hers. Favorite angle with clothes on, anyway.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I wave as the men meander down the pavement, most of them still riding an early-day buzz as they disappear into the town.

Longest charter yet, I think to myself, suddenly feeling drained.

We still have many hours in front of us to turn the boat over before the next charter, and yet all I can think about is whatever it was that Kathryn had planned for us tonight. The familiar anxious pangs in my stomach renew but I brush them off as I try to focus on the task at hand.

As I’m drying the wine glasses, I hear on the radio, “Peter, Peter, Captain, Captain. Please come up to the Bridge when you have a spare moment.”

That melodic voice. Wonder what she wants with Peter?

Figuring that Kathryn must have gotten word of some sort of misstep by the deckhand, I continue on with my work.

It’s not more than fifteen minutes later that I hear a deep voice from somewhere behind me. “Chief! Hey Chief!” I turn around to see Peter briskly walking towards me.

“Hi Peter. What’s up?”

“Just heard that Captain Kathryn booked a dinner cruise for us tonight – she got our owner to charter a small boat for us to have a private, four-course dinner prepared by a local chef. Everyone’s been told to meet on the dock at 6:30 this evening.” He paused, beaming. “Isn’t that bad ass of her? Says we’ve all been working really hard and deserved a special night out.”

Hmm. What was she up to.

“That’s… amazing,” I reply slowly.

Surely this wasn’t the ‘something planned for us’ that she had been referring to. Somehow, I couldn’t see Kathryn thrusting esat escort us into the public eye in the form of a group date.

“You don’t seem excited,” he notices with a laugh.

“Truth is, I’m hanging back tonight. Need to catch up back home with phone calls and Facetimes and all that,” I lie.

“WHAT? No, you can’t. Not tonight. You’re always missing out, Lucca! And this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience! Are you crazy? Catch up with them tomorrow… we’re not on charter again until Sunday!” The way he’s fervently speaking, I can tell he’s disappointed.

“Sorry, buddy. Can’t. Just really need to decompress,” I counter, unfazed by his motivational speech.

Peter throws his head back and sighs. “You’re such a square, Chief.”

If only he knew.

He continues. “Well, let the girls know. Can’t wait to tell the boys,” he mutters as he rushes past me.

“Will do.”

I smile to myself, realizing that this must be a diversion to get the crew off the boat.

Man, was she slick. This was so… fucking sexy.

I could not wait to have the boat to ourselves.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I can hear the whoops and hollers as the gang load into the cab out on the dock.

See ya! I say mischievously out loud to no one as I slip into a pair of hunter green skinny pants. Checking myself in the mirror, I briefly decide to button the very top button on my black blouse before changing my mind and undoing it. I wanted to look really nice for Kathryn tonight; as someone that clearly has an eye for style and a knack for dressing well, something in me just wanted to please her. And even though putting together a classically beautiful outfit for me was akin to trigonometry for some, I had spent the past hour mulling over what she might appreciate and was satisfied with the end result.

I lightly spray some finishing mist on my hair and run my fingers through it. My long locks are naturally wavy today, with just a little bit of bounce. Damn. I should be in a shampoo commercial; I joke to myself. Now I was getting cocky. Alright, calm down.

I walk up the stairs to the Main Salon and start to pass through it on my way up to the Bridge before noticing a tall figure at the far end in an armchair, reading a copy of SuperYachts World.

It takes me longer than it should to realize that it’s Kathryn as she lowers the magazine, and our eyes meet.

Her gaze makes my feet stop walking involuntarily. “Oh, hi. I was just coming up to see you,” I state, a little confused.

Saying nothing, she lays the magazine back down on the coffee table, taking a moment to angle it a few degrees in one direction so that it perfectly matches the others.

“Interior looks beautiful. You ladies really did a lovely job.”

Walking towards me now, I’m mesmerized by the way Kathryn’s white sleeveless silk blouse drapes over her tight black leather pants, emphasizing every curve. Her almost jet-black hair

cascades around her bare shoulders, while her black pumps click on the hardwood floor before stopping in front of me.

Looking up at her, I realize that I had never seen Kathryn in heels until now. While only a few inches taller than me usually, she now towered over me. Suddenly, my pair of Veja Recife shoes made me feel underdressed.

“Thanks…” I respond unimaginatively.

“Hi, Elle.” I feel Kathryn’s arms rise up the length of my back, coming to rest in the middle.

My body relaxes as I step forward into her embrace. “You’re breathtaking,” I whisper. “But it never ceases to amaze me how dressed up you get just to hang around on this boat,” I say with a twinkle of amusement in my eye.

“Who said we’re hanging around on this boat?”

“Oh. I thought that’s why you had ferried the crew away for the evening…”

“Well, you thought wrong, my darling. Don’t ever try to second-guess me. You’ll never win,” Kathryn counters while taking my hand and leading me back across the room to the gangway.

We walk out onto the passerelle and down into a waiting cab. She wraps her naked arm around behind me, and I lean into her, trying to process everything that is happening.

We’re out in public. Kathryn is taking me out in public.

As we drive, Kathryn asks generic questions about the past charter, and I hear myself robotically provide answers as I attempt to sort out what she was up to and where we were going.

The taxi pulls up in front of a restaurant called Table 22, and we exit.

I stand there awkwardly. Kathryn places her hand on the small of my back and ushers me forward. We stop momentarily in front of the empty Maître d’ stand before Kathryn’s hand rises as she spots him walking towards us from the back of the restaurant.

“Salut, Benoît!”

His face lights up. “Kathryn! Je suis content de te voir,” he replies in a booming voice.

“Et toi,” she returns as she leans in to exchange a brief kiss on either cheek.

Now looking at me, he adds, “Quelle belle jeune femme,” before returning his attention to the woman beside me. “Votre table est prête.”

I look up at Kathryn inquisitively and she flashes me a smile before we follow him through the restaurant and out the back door.

We step out onto a tiny patio, dimly lit by a few strings of lights overhead.