Page 96 of Wayward
We’re lined up on the sofa, Easton, Haley, me, and then Zane. Calvin and Dante are behind us on tall bar stools that have appeared from somewhere. Rocky’s in a chair next to the sofa, next to an empty chair. Henry . . . hasn’t shown up yet, and it’s almost an hour from when we were supposed to start.
“I really like your hair, Sassy. It’s sassy to a T.” Dante fluffs the side of her hair.
The eyes of the production assistants weigh on my shoulders as they skim over us. Easton gave Haley a kiss on the cheek when we came out of the primary bedroom. It’s easy to see the wheels in their heads turning. And I remind myself again: I don’t care.
The door flies open, and Henry strolls in by himself. I figured he’d have an entourage behind him. He’s wearing khakis and a bush jacket, complete with epaulets and a dozen pockets. When it sways open, a linen shirt flashes. He looks more like he’s going on a safari than interviewing castaways and billionaires as he beelines across the room. “Rocky, amazing to see you. Thank you for sitting down with me to have this chat.” He shakes Rocky’s hand and pivots on his heels toward the sofa. His eyes focus on Haley. “There’s the gal who lived for a year on the island with all these blokes.” He laughs. “How was that? I bet you’re looking forward to a spa day? Haley Brewster, correct?”
The mention of a spa day has me spiraling inside, remembering the spa day I gave her. My eyes flick to her cheeks that are turning crimson. She’s remembering it too.
“It wasn’t bad. Sure, there was a lot of rain. But we managed. Island life wasn’t the problem. It was leaving the island that we’d like to talk to you about.”
“Yes, say no more. I want to capture everything you say with a fresh reaction to inform our viewers.” He nods like he’s curing world hunger and points at each of us. “Calvin Green, Dante Jones, Easton—good to see you alive and kicking. Captain Samuel?—”
“Sam.”
“Noted.” Henry gives a curt nod. “And our hometown boy from Birmingham?”
“Stourbridge.”
“Ah, a lovely village, yes. Right, then, let’s get this show moving. Such a lovely piece.”
I turn to Haley beside me. Her eyes go wide.Lovely piece,she mouths.
“Hank, your producer told you about?—”
“Things like this I want to go in fresh.” He plops down in the chair next to Rocky’s. “Knee’s giving me fits. Nigel, are we doing this or what?”
The producer puts on his headset, and the lights flip from glaring to supernova and back down again.
A camera person focuses on Henry. “Almost a year ago, the mega yachtRock Candywas lost at sea. One raft containingtheRocky Rockwell, his daughter, another guest, and some of the crew was found after a short time. The yacht and a second raft containing Olympian swimmer Easton Rockwell and more crew were never found and presumed lost at sea. That’s clearly not the case. Welcome to the long-lost gold medal winner Easton Rockwell and the missing crew.”
I can feel Easton’s disdain rolling off him.
The camera pans over us, and Henry introduces each of us before turning to Rocky. “You must really have been waiting for this day? Your big announcement at the forums market and now your son is home. This will be a day you never forget.”
Easton cocks his head at his dad, and I’m more than wondering what announcement was made at the forum.
“Yes, it’s an exciting day. I’m damn happy to have them all home.” Rocky crosses his legs.
Henry’s off. “How did you end up in London, Captain Sam Miller? Belay that order.” I want to slap Henry. He’s sounding more like an early morning talk show host and less like the award-winning hard reporter that PR Mike sold him as. “Can you introduce us to your crew?”
I straighten myself on the sofa and give a quick introduction to people I know Henry knows the names of. He’s rubbing me the wrong way, and I’m losing hope quickly that this is going to do anything but make us look like a bunch of helpless victims. “. . . and Easton,” I say, and it feels darn awkward.
“Right, well, of course we all know the water genius of Easton Rockwell. Did you pull the raft to the island?” Henry asks Easton.
“No.” Easton looks back to me. He’s boiling.
“We really appreciate you talking to all of us today. Because what happened to theRock Candywasn’t an accident. And we need to go on record with what did happen,” I say.
Henry’s eyebrows shoot up, and he butts in before I can say anything else. “What do you mean? It was malicious? Sabotage? That’s fascinating . . . unless you didn’t live through it, I suppose.” He straightens himself and looks into the camera. And now I’m wondering if good old Hank has had a couple of mimosas this morning.
“Yes, we’re incredibly lucky that there weren’t more fatalities,” I say.
“Yes, Candace Abbott. What a tragic loss. She fell out of the tender when it was put in. There was an inquiry into your first officer for it.”
Now it’s my turn to raise my eyebrows. My stomach clenches. Anders was doing his best to get the primaries off the boat. I don’t know for certain, I didn’t see it, but I can imagine how hysterical Candy must have been for him to break protocol.
“He was cleared of all wrongdoing,” Rocky says.
