Two men in white polo shirts and black shorts helped me aboard, and right away, a woman in the same outfit appeared with two spot-free martini glasses. （I noticed because spot-free in the islands, especially aboard a boat, is quite the feat.）
“May I offer you a Sea Suiteini?” she asked.
I smiled. “Thank you.” I took one and then whispered to her, “What in the world is a Sea Suiteini?” I didn’t want Conner to hear in case it was something incredibly common that I should have heard of.
“This boat is the Sea Suite, and it’s our signature drink, but made weak for brunch.”
Well, when in Rome, right? I held the glass up in a cheers motion and took a sip. I felt Conner’s hand on my back as he took a glass too.
As the stewardess stepped aside, I saw that the large outdoor table was set with a pair of matching white plates trimmed in navy, bearing the initials SS in the middle. A bouquet of what I now knew, after months of wedding planning, were pink ranunculus sat in the center of the table.
“Hungry?” Conner asked.
I raised my eyebrows. “Not a date,” I replied.
“When would brunch ever be a date?” He grinned. Brunch was basically always a date.
We sat down and one of the men who had helped me into the boat appeared. “Brunch will be served as soon as we get underway.”
I eyed Conner. “Is this your life?”
He burst out laughing. “You’re joking, right?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know him. The engines roared to life.
“I literally had to get my passport to come here. This is the first time I’ve left the country. But I haven’t taken a vacation since…” He paused, thinking. “Well, ever. I have never taken a vacation since I started work. When the Garrisons said I could stay on their boat I wasn’t exactly expecting this, to be honest.”
I felt myself relax as we began to pull away from the shore.
“May I say, though, that I’m glad you’re here to share this foray into luxury with me?”
“May I say I’m glad too?” I could already tell these islands were going to look completely different from the water than they did from my treehouse room. I was instantly glad I had come.
“So, overall,” Conner asked, “has this been the honeymoon you were expecting?”
I laughed so hard I almost spit out my drink.
“Oh, good,” he said. “I took a risk there. I was afraid it was too soon.”
It was too soon. Even still, I smiled as a plate of eggs Benedict appeared before me.
“Miss, we also have vegan and gluten-free options if you prefer,” the stewardess said.
I smiled. “I will eat pretty much anything that doesn’t eat me first.”
She laughed.
Savoring my first bite I said, “So this is the glamorous life of an architect, huh? Hundred-foot sailboats, crews calling you sir, jet-setting around the globe?”
Conner nodded. “Absolutely. Or maybe paralyzing self-doubt tempered by tiny glimpses of glory, which are then tempered again by negative reviews from random passersby about your buildings that make you reconsider your entire life and everything in it.”
I laughed but I was also realizing how strange it was that he had come out here alone. “It seems unfair,” I said, wiping my mouth, “that you know my whole sad backstory and I don’t know any of yours.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t know all my sad backstory.
“I don’t really have one. I have a super normal life.”
“No one has a normal life,” I interjected.
“True. But, I mean, my parents have been married for forty years and still hold hands, and my sister married the guy she’s been dating since high school and just had her first kid.”
“Those guys you’ve been dating since high school don’t always turn out the way you think.”
Conner raised his glass. “Lucky for me.”
I smirked. “But happy parents are underrated, I think.”
“Yours aren’t?”
I shrugged. “Together, yes. Happy?” I looked out over the water and thought about this. “Sometimes, yeah. Often, actually. But you know how some people have those relationships where they can’t live with each other and can’t live without each other?”
He shrugged. “In theory, yeah. With friends, totally. I’m just lucky enough not to have any firsthand experience.”
I nodded. “Well, that’s good. Because I have and it is no picnic.” The thought of Hayes was like a shard of glass. I looked down into my martini, realizing I was drinking it too quickly. I was rambling. “And what about you?” I asked, eager to get off the subject. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Yes. And she finds it perfectly acceptable for me to shepherd beautiful young women around on yachts in the Caribbean. She wouldn’t have wanted to come with me to this shithole anyway.”
“Who would? These eggs Benedict are barely edible.” They were divine. “So, is it inappropriate of me to ask why you’re here all alone?”
He laughed. “No. Not inappropriate. We’re in international waters so anything goes.” He took a sip of his martini. “Two of my best friends are meeting me in a couple days to spend some time in Anegada, and then we’re going to pick my parents up in Saint Thomas to go to Jost Van Dyke for a bit before I finish my vacation in Tortola. But believe it or not, no one could take three weeks off to come with me the whole time.” He lifted his glass. “So I’m lucky I met you.”
I lifted my glass. “Cheers to that!”
He put his napkin on the table. “Let’s go to the front of the boat, pretend it’s ours, and laugh snidely at the unwashed masses cruising by on their fifty-foot yachts.” He took off his T-shirt, crumpling it on the chair.
I took off my dress so I could start working on my tan and followed him.
We stretched out on the loungers on the front deck. The sun felt warm and perfect.
“Do you mind if we cruise a little?” he asked. “I thought we’d go to Soggy Dollar for lunch.”
I lit up. I had read all about the famous local beachfront bar. “Yes, please!”
It occurred to me then that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to be in another country with a man I barely knew on a boat that wasn’t even his. But I was lulled into contentment by the drink and the sun and the gentle water, so I let the worry pass by and focused, instead, on how great my tan was going to be.
* * *
Three hours later, waves crashed over the dinghy, threatening to capsize our little boat as we made our way to shore again. “I should have had Axle bring us in,” Conner said, laughing as the spray drenched us again.
Axle. The first mate. I wondered how many people actually worked on this boat.
“But then what kind of adventurers would we be?” I practically shouted over the noise of the angry surf. The water farther out was calm, but the breakers were huge despite the clear skies.
Once we—somehow—made it to shore, I helped him pull the boat up onto the sand.
The white maxi dress that had seemed so chic this morning now clung to my skin, feeling disgusting. I wasn’t sure if I could go to the bar in just my bathing suit, but even still, this would never do. I peeled my dress off and spread it on the side of the dinghy to dry. “Can I go in like this?” I asked Conner, peering up at the open-air space to see what other people were wearing.