Page 25 of Reel Love

“What exactly does a marine biologist do?”

“Well, we can do hundreds of things. It’s a pretty broad field—considering the ocean takes up nearly seventy-one percent of the earth.”

I don’t laugh at the subtle joke hidden in there, but, surprisingly she does. It’s a light giggle, but still, it’s musical and sweet, like a concert floutist playing Rampal.

I made Alana Graves laugh.I tuck that little nugget of truth away to take out later.

“So, what do you do within this broad field of yours?”

“Me? I … well, I work for corporations as a marine consultant. When they want to expand, they call me. I go in, assess the situation, report to them what species are in the area, ensure they go forward with minimal ecological impact. That sort of thing.”

“So, you dive for work. Do you dive recreationally? Around Marbella?”

“Yes. I dive with tanks and without.”

“Free-diving?”

“Yeah. But I’m not as good as a lot of the guys I know. I can only go down for three to four minutes tops.”

“Without any oxygen?!” Her eyes go wide and a swell of pride fills my chest accompanied by a pleasant buzz that travels through me. I impressed her.

“Yeah. That’s what free-diving is, essentially. I have friendswho can go down for ten minutes. But they practice and devote themselves to it. I usually dive with tanks if I plan to stay down for any length of time.”

“I’ve never dived before. I’ve snorkeled all over the world. Asia, the Caribbean, Hawaii … but never diving.”

“Would you want to?”

Whaaaaaat?I’m not offering to take Alana Graves diving. I can barely breathe around the woman. I mean, I’m doing okay right now, but underwater, there’s a serious possibility I’d take in water and drown.

“I really would love to learn. Do you teach?”

She looks directly at me and I feel her gaze like a spear to my heart. It’s piercing and light. Her translucent, intelligent eyes study me.

“I do teach. Also, I think you know my friend, Ben. He’s Summer Monroe’s husband? He teaches at the Alicante.”

She stiffens a little, and I immediately discern why. “I haven’t told anyone I’m driving you this morning. They don’t even know I’m out here. I’m the chest, remember?” I wink at her.

I winked. At her.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world. But I don’t know what made me think I could actually wink at Alana Graves.

She smiles. “Yeah. You’re the chest. From the Titanic. I remember.”

We both chuckle—together. And I can see now why Joel treats Alana like a friend—why Summer said Alana’s just human like the rest of us. For a moment, as fleeting as it is, we’re just a man and a woman out on the water while I taxi her to work.

But that passes, don’t you worry.

I’m beyond aware that she’s Alana Graves. And I’m just … me.

EIGHT

Alana

You're a beautiful woman.

You deserve a beautiful life.

~Water for Elephants

---