The damage to the hull wasn't visible. The engineers know something isn't right though. Ophelia's Violet is inefficient. They checked the pumps, the fuel tag, the navigation system, and everything else they could think of but no matter where they looked, they couldn't find it. So, the damage probably was to the hull. They put on scuba gear, dived down under the water to trail their fingers along the ship's bottom, but there was no sign of corrosion, friction or algae growth, no cracks or leaks.
Two of the stewards had slightly orange hands. It was no fault of theirs; they were up all night scrubbing at the faker tanner stain on the white couch in the salon. The sea couldn't purge it. They did a white glove service for breakfast. To compensate, the cook had to wake early and spend an extra hour preparing the meal. Warm and thick honey drizzled on pies plated warm. A plate with figs, pomegranates, grapes and cherries deep and dark and juicy. Plates cheese and pita and olives, but eggs made fresh to order and seasoned exactly as the clients requested. The ten of them had ordered twenty-three eggs between them. Nothing was eaten. The stewards had to throw out the gloves. The interior was orange even though the outside unmarked.
The inflatable slide had a hole. On the previous charter, it didn't stay up for long. Patching the hole was easy. The tedious task involved finding the hole, wasting precious time the deckhands could have spent refueling the jetskis or washing puke off the side of the boat. They inflated it for the guests, who spent six minutes with it before they decided to switch activities.
The damage to the hull wasn't visible. It was still there.
~~~
Shelly King preferred radio communications to a cellphone, but she still had one. No one had her number anymore. It was more compact and convenient than a laptop or tablet and served the same purpose. All Shelly needed were spreadsheets and emails. Some clients liked to call, no matter how many times she gently implied her reception wasn't very good. Of course, her phone started to ring as she was pulling into port, helping her bosun direct the deck crew on the lines.
"I don't understand why you insist on calling," Kai leaned back on the chair at the airport. He hated flying on public airlines.
Briar tucked the phone back in her bag, "people have an easier time saying no to an email."
Ellie and Luis rolled their eyes, uncrossing and recrossing their legs in-sync. The fabric of their trousers rubs against each other. Though neither of them seemed to notice, Roman couldn't tear their eyes away. They tapped Ez, who only swats them off. He wanted to throw this book out before they land. Carrying so many is too heavy. Jetta bought him an e-reader for his most recent birthday, and Ez swore it was a declaration of war. Ellie would know.
"You think it's going to be a problem?" Evelyn pinched her knees in tighter. Her eyes were wide, waiting.
Felix squeezed her shoulder. She ignored that the gesture was going to crease her blouse. Their plane ride would be around twelve hours, and when Vieira had suggested they dress comfortably since it would only be first-class, Evelyn had taken it to heart. Her heels were only two inches, child's play.
"No," Kai massaged his temples. "Which is why we don't need to call."
"I don't mind calling," Briar shoved her purse onto Kai's lap. "Besides, I'd rather things go according to plan."
"When have things ever gone according to plan?" Tom whispered the words, more to himself than anyone else.
Of course, they all heard. Even Ez, desperate not to be paying attention to this conversation. All the more reason they should have flown privately. The help is justas good at listening as the strangers around them. At least people at yourservice have tighter lips. They tend to look nicer than the people in airports.Certainly more ornamental.
"As long as nobody shoots at us while we are swimming-"
"Too soon, Luis,"
Luis paused, looking up at Felix and then sighing.
They were setting themselves up for doom. None of them spoke allowed the thought they shared. Maybe nothing went according to plan. Maybe sometimes their lying and cheating and bribing failed them. Maybe they had each other but didn't trust each other. This time, more than any other time, they were tempting fate.
Poppy Prevost, peach-like and rotting, loved boating. Planning a vacation without her was tempting the gods one time too many.
~~~~~
Is this the weirdest way I've started a book? Yes. Do I actually think it is extremely appropriate? Thematic even? Definitely. Besides the obvious reason I chose to start the book with these characters, why do you think it was the decision I made?
But anyway, we should meet your characters soon enough! Anything particularly exciting while you enjoy this tease?
