Mr. Holt

The Yacht

A few days later

"Savannah, all these books need to be scanned and shelved," my boss says as I clock in for the day.

Sighing, I get to work on the pile of books. It's the end of the semester, which means endless piles of books as we all study for our exams.

"Hi, Savannah," my friend, Jonas, says to me as I'm re-shelving the books and he browses the modern literature section.

"Oh, hi, Jonas. How are you?"

"Good...good. You weren't at the theater the other night. Are you not considering this show?"

"No, I am. I had a date, but I already talked to Hugh and he's going to let me audition late."

"Oh good. Who was your date with? Please don't say it was with that creep who was eyeing you up at the theater last week," Jonas says.

I laugh. "Ew, God, no. You're not going to believe me when I say this."

"Say what?"

Pausing what I'm doing, I turn to face him and say, "I was on a date with Alexander Holt."

"The Alexander Holt? The Alexander Holt who owns half of Manhattan, Alexander Holt?"

I smile. "Yep. That's the one."

"What?! Savannah, that's crazy! How did you end up on a date with him?!"

"She bumped into me at Starbucks and wowed me with her charm and beauty," Alexander says, startling me so much that I drop the books I'm holding and squeak as I turn to face him.

"Alexander," I say. "What are you doing here?"

Jonas's eyes bounce back and forth between us, and he says, "Why don't I give you a minute?"

"What are you doing?" I say to Alexander.

"I had some errands, and I thought I'd stop by and ask you out on that second date in person."

"Oh, uh, I'm busy tonight, but..."

"Not tonight," he says.

"When?" I say as I continue putting books on the shelf.

"Well, I was wondering if you might do me a favor."

"Um... that depends," I say and look over at him. God, he is so beautiful. How can one human be so goshdarnit freaking perfect?

"What does it depend on?"

"On the favor, of course," I say and roll the book cart down the aisle a little ways, and he follows me as I continue.

"My stepmother's birthday is tomorrow evening on my father's private yacht. We leave the harbor tomorrow morning at 10 and we'll dock again Sunday at 10."

"Oh. You're asking me to attend?"

"Yes. You would have your private room. My father's yacht is large enough to hold 50 guests. I can tell him to put your room next to mine if it would make you feel more comfortable."

I pretend like I'm contemplating my answer, but um, hello? A birthday party on a yacht... with a billionaire and his family? Um... no question about it. I'm going. I've never been on a yacht. Even though this guy showed up at my work and it should be a red flag; somehow, it's not.

"Will they even want me to attend?"

"I bring a guest every year. No one will think anything of it. I promise."

I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not. Nevertheless, I agree to go.

"Okay. Where do I go and when?"