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Authors: Emma Darcy
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Flynn...”
Jodie’s call was like a nailfile scraping her spine.
“...look who I’ve found! It’s Hannah!”
She would not turn around. No way. She picked up the bowl of used teabags and emptied it in the garbage bin.
“Hannah?” Flynn’s voice sounding puzzled and disturbed.
Hannah hoped a load of guilt was hitting him like a freight train and he’d want to get out from under the weight of it as fast as he could.
“Come and say hello to her,” Jodie commanded, a note of sweet malice in her tone now, determined on breaking Hannah’s guard against them.
“Ah, Jodie, isn’t it?” Tony’s voice. “I was just inviting Flynn up to the bridge to watch us take Duchess out now that everyone’s on board. You have your coffee? Yes, I see you have. Good! Do come and join us.”
A very smooth rescue mission.
Hannah hated his awareness of a problem blowing up with her at the centre of it, but was intensely grateful for his interference.
“Thank you,” Jodie crooned. “But Flynn must say hello to Hannah first. We haven’t seen her for so-o-o long.”
Putting her on the spot in front of her boss!
No ready excuse to deny a simple greeting.
No escape.
Flynn had to be faced.
Get it over and done with, Hannah savagely reasoned.
Her stomach was curdling with rebellion as she swung around, her gaze instinctively targeting Tony, the green blaze of her eyes warning she was not going to play Jodie’s game, come hell or high water.
“It’s good to see you, Hannah,” Flynn said quietly.
He was a blur beside Tony—a grey blur in some grey outfit—and she kept him a blur. Tony was taller, broader-shouldered, physically a stronger male image that helped to blot out Flynn’s, and his eyes were certainly just as sharply intelligent, boring into hers for answers that were buried under too many layers of pain to be dragged out into the open.
She forced herself to nod at Flynn but she wouldn’t speak to him. Wouldn’t look directly at him, either. She didn’t care if Tony fired her on the spot. Her eyes challenged him to do it if he wanted to. Everything within her revolted against pretending this situation was acceptable in any shape or form.
“Right! Let’s move,” Tony said with firm authority, picking up the two cups of coffee, thrusting one at Jodie and one at Flynn so they were forced to take them. “Hannah has a lot to do preparing for lunch and it’s a fine morning to be up on the bridge. Come and enjoy the view.”
He literally herded them away, talking at them with so much dominant energy, any protest they might have made wilted under it. Even so, Hannah knew Jodie wouldn’t be silenced for long. In no time flat she’d be spilling out to Tony that his new chef was a very new chef, her major work experience being in a completely different field. And then she’d pump him for all he knew about her—ammunition for her next visit to the galley.
“What a pushy bitch!” Megan commented.
Hannah took a deep breath to ease the painful tightness in her chest. The sense of being intolerably trapped was pressing in on her. The urge to run, to jump off the boat before it left dock, warred with the responsibility she had taken on. Impossible for Megan to handle all the work of the galley alone. The others had their duties. She’d be letting everyone down if she skipped out on them.
“Are you okay?” Megan asked, concern in her voice.
Hannah looked at her, desperation voicing a plea. “Could I ask a big favour of you, Megan?”
“Keep between you and them?”
She nodded. “They caused me a lot of grief in the past.”
“Leave it to me. You just do your stuff, Hannah, and I’ll spike their guns every time they front up to the bar.”
“Thanks.” She managed a wobbly smile. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Be a pleasure. Though I don’t think you need worry too much. Tony caught the drift and he’ll cut them out of the pack.”
“Cut them...what do you mean?”
“Oh, he has a
Jodie’s call was like a nailfile scraping her spine.
“...look who I’ve found! It’s Hannah!”
She would not turn around. No way. She picked up the bowl of used teabags and emptied it in the garbage bin.
“Hannah?” Flynn’s voice sounding puzzled and disturbed.
Hannah hoped a load of guilt was hitting him like a freight train and he’d want to get out from under the weight of it as fast as he could.
“Come and say hello to her,” Jodie commanded, a note of sweet malice in her tone now, determined on breaking Hannah’s guard against them.
“Ah, Jodie, isn’t it?” Tony’s voice. “I was just inviting Flynn up to the bridge to watch us take Duchess out now that everyone’s on board. You have your coffee? Yes, I see you have. Good! Do come and join us.”
A very smooth rescue mission.
Hannah hated his awareness of a problem blowing up with her at the centre of it, but was intensely grateful for his interference.
“Thank you,” Jodie crooned. “But Flynn must say hello to Hannah first. We haven’t seen her for so-o-o long.”
Putting her on the spot in front of her boss!
No ready excuse to deny a simple greeting.
No escape.
Flynn had to be faced.
Get it over and done with, Hannah savagely reasoned.
Her stomach was curdling with rebellion as she swung around, her gaze instinctively targeting Tony, the green blaze of her eyes warning she was not going to play Jodie’s game, come hell or high water.
“It’s good to see you, Hannah,” Flynn said quietly.
He was a blur beside Tony—a grey blur in some grey outfit—and she kept him a blur. Tony was taller, broader-shouldered, physically a stronger male image that helped to blot out Flynn’s, and his eyes were certainly just as sharply intelligent, boring into hers for answers that were buried under too many layers of pain to be dragged out into the open.
She forced herself to nod at Flynn but she wouldn’t speak to him. Wouldn’t look directly at him, either. She didn’t care if Tony fired her on the spot. Her eyes challenged him to do it if he wanted to. Everything within her revolted against pretending this situation was acceptable in any shape or form.
“Right! Let’s move,” Tony said with firm authority, picking up the two cups of coffee, thrusting one at Jodie and one at Flynn so they were forced to take them. “Hannah has a lot to do preparing for lunch and it’s a fine morning to be up on the bridge. Come and enjoy the view.”
He literally herded them away, talking at them with so much dominant energy, any protest they might have made wilted under it. Even so, Hannah knew Jodie wouldn’t be silenced for long. In no time flat she’d be spilling out to Tony that his new chef was a very new chef, her major work experience being in a completely different field. And then she’d pump him for all he knew about her—ammunition for her next visit to the galley.
“What a pushy bitch!” Megan commented.
Hannah took a deep breath to ease the painful tightness in her chest. The sense of being intolerably trapped was pressing in on her. The urge to run, to jump off the boat before it left dock, warred with the responsibility she had taken on. Impossible for Megan to handle all the work of the galley alone. The others had their duties. She’d be letting everyone down if she skipped out on them.
“Are you okay?” Megan asked, concern in her voice.
Hannah looked at her, desperation voicing a plea. “Could I ask a big favour of you, Megan?”
“Keep between you and them?”
She nodded. “They caused me a lot of grief in the past.”
“Leave it to me. You just do your stuff, Hannah, and I’ll spike their guns every time they front up to the bar.”
“Thanks.” She managed a wobbly smile. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Be a pleasure. Though I don’t think you need worry too much. Tony caught the drift and he’ll cut them out of the pack.”
“Cut them...what do you mean?”
“Oh, he has a
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