Page 55 of Standing Still

“Fucking hell, Ben. I know. I got it. I’m the dumb ass. But don’t you be one too.”

I scowl at him. Seems he doesn’t have much more to say because he gets up and heads to the front door.

“Do yourself a favour,” he says from behind me. “Don’t let her walk away again.”

I don’t bother turning around. He leaves and Jedi whines. I pat his head to reassure him everything is alright. I’ve spent the last seven days fluctuating between wanting to do what he says and being pissed at her for running away. She never even gave me a chance to explain. Why should I go running after her?

I’ve heard all about Frankie too, Darren’s kid. That whole thing is messed up, especially because Acer knew and never told anyone, or even reached out to Claudia and the kid. It’s no fucking wonder Elle has trouble trusting people.

At work the next day, after a fantastic day out on the water, I help the guys haul in the catch. I landed us a new contract with a fishmonger over in Stonington. It’s a huge contract and we only just beat the competition with our prices. I want our reputation to spread further afield, and there is no better way of doing that than providing a fishmonger with their best catch of the day.

Especially given the charter bookings are dropping off. I scowl down at the Day Away offices. They’re not open at this time of the morning, but I see Daley heading down to open up after parking his ridiculous Ferrari in the parking lot.

He sees me watching and instead of going to his office, he veers in my direction.

“Morning,” he calls, tucking his hands into the pockets of his beige slacks. The fucking asshole.

I don’t bother answering.

“I heard you just landed a new contract.”

I don’t let on that it bothers me, he knows that, just look up at him and nod, then get back to my task at hand, prepping everything for the truck that Rex is going to drive over to Stonington. Daley stands there and watches as I move crates from the dock to the truck. Rex comes over to help, glaring daggers at the Day Away prick.

“You know, the fishing business isn’t bringing in as much revenue as it once was. I hear things are getting a little tight for people. I was just chatting with Joe Leigh a couple of days ago about it.”

“That right?” I ask, knowing full well he’s been sniffing around Joe. We had a few beers a couple of nights ago and laughed at this asshole, thinking he was wearing him down.

“Yeah, it’s looking more and more like the charters and day trips are where the money is out on the Mystic.”

I pause what I’m doing and look up at him, pulling my gloves off and tucking them into my back jeans pocket. “Problem with that is, it’s a seasonal thing, tapers off in the winter, Daley.”

“If you get it right the rest of the year, then you’re ahead of the game.”

“Is that what you’re doing, Daley? Staying ahead of the game?” I know the fucker is stealing customers, luring them with his fancy boats, free food, and party atmosphere on his boat. We still have our loyal customers, people who want to go out and fish and not act like idiots.

“You know it. And we can always use good men to help, giving how big we’re growing.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with finding those men.”

He eyeballs me, but I just stare right back. He likes to think he’s intimidating, but he just looks like a schmuck to me in his crisp pants and starched shirts. Nothing like a real fisherman.

“Anything else I can help you with, Daley, cos if not, kindly fuck off. I’m busy.”

Rex laughs as I walk away from the asshole, leaving his lips flapping, like a fish of all things, as he tries to think of a witty comeback. Whatever it is, it’s lost to the wind as I head up to the truck to make sure we have the full inventory ready for Rex to head out.

“He really working on Joe Leigh?” Rex asks me.

“He thinks so,” I grin.

“Fucking moron,” Rex tuts. “All set?”

“Yep, good to go.”

He heads off and I go inside. After washing up, I head to the office to work on some invoices. I draw my eyes to the old filing cabinet in the corner. The one I’ve never gotten around to clearing out. I tap my fingers on the desk as I stare at it. It’s in there, taunting me. The picture Acer always kept on his desk.

I’ve been keeping busy, so I don’t let myself feel as if there is something missing. My mind flashes back to that night at my parents’ house when Elle gave her speech about life and how we’re standing still. I’d been offended at the time thinking she meant the job I was doing here, that it wasn’t important enough to mean I had made something of myself.

As I sit and think it over again, the more I wonder if she was talking about us. She was saying it in the context of me going out to New York. Shaking things up. Snapping myself out of this stagnancy.

---