Page 13 of His Secret Gift

I set that garment aside. “Excuse me? Were you or were you not the one who was just lecturing me about how this job isn’t going to be anything likeYacht Life?”

Her lips purse. “I was.”

“Well, okay then. You out of all people should know that I’m not going to be meeting some hot dockhand who is going to sweep me off my feet—”

“Hey. You can still have sex with your feet perfectly on the ground.”

“Oh, my gosh!” I shove her shoulder.

She shrugs. “What? That’s all I’m asking for, K. Just a little…” She then clicks her tongue twice.

I shake my head. “That’s not what this is about.”

Leaning closer to me, she says, “Maybe not—but it could be.”

I drop my hands into my lap. “You know, consistency is not your strong suit.”

Her nose wrinkles up. “Yeah, I know.”

After we go through all her recent purchases, which ninety nine percent of will be going back to the store, we order in some pizza and eat it on the tiny dining table in my house.

“So, who is this rich guy?” Molly asks after slurping some stretchy cheese into her mouth. She’s out of that fancy dress and into some comfier clothes that she’s borrowing from me. Her hair is also up in a messy bun.

“His name is Jack Shelley.”

Her piece of pizza slams down on the plate. “Come again?”

“Jack Shelley. I think that’s his name.”

With wide eyes, she asks, “And you don’t know who that is?”

I shrug one shoulder up and back down again. “I mean, I saw him on the Zoom call. But it was dark, and all I could really see was his silhouette.”

After wiping her hands off on a napkin, she picks up her phone and types away on the screen.

“Here. This is your new boss,” she says while holding it up to me. “He’s the CEO of some publishing business, but his family first got wealthy after his grandfather founded Shelley Gas Stations.”

“Whoa.” In the picture I’m looking at, he has a gray suit on with a white undershirt and a black tie. From the red carpet at his feet, I can only guess that he’s at some fancy event. Also, of course, I’ve heard of Shelley Gas Stations. They’re everywhere.

“Right?” She puts the device down. “Oh, my god. We’re going to have to rethink your entire outfit.”

I reach over and grab her hand. “Molly, it’s fine. I mean,” I say with a laugh, “what do you think is going to happen? He’s going to fall madly in love with little old me from Aurora, Indiana? Doubtful.”

“You never know.”

“Actually, in some cases, such as this, you do. I’m a lowly steward. He probably won’t even notice me.”

“Ugh.” She hangs her head for a moment. “That’s why youmakeyourself get noticed.”

“I’m just going to be there to do my job. That’s it. And speaking of which, I have to work fast to get my medical clearance and all of the certificates I need before we head out.”

The rest of the evening was less fun, and she mainly just watched as I scheduled appointments and found somewhere accredited where I could get the necessary certifications.

“So, you have to get a physical like when we were younger and in sports?” she asks me later, laying on her belly on top of my bed.

I’m sitting at the chair of my vanity and looking at her in the mirror. “Kinda. If I understand everything correctly, I have to prove that I’m physically capable to do all of the tasks and assist in the evacuation of boat passengers in the event of an emergency.”

“Ah. I guess that makes sense. What about the other stuff?”

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