Page 4 of Below Deck Billionaire
‘Okay then, the knowledge that I was wrong and you were right.’
‘And being able to rub it in whenever I want.’
‘Naturally,’ Ari agreed dryly.
‘What about…’ Theo made a crude motion with his right hand.
Ari grinned. ‘You can beat yourself raw.’
Thank Zeus for small mercies. If Theo agreed to this ridiculous dare, he’d probably end up with RSI in his wrist.
‘You can’t do it, can you?’ Ari said, repeating his taunt as he presented his hand again.
TheI told you soin his brother’s voice rammed a rod of steel up Theo’s spine. He was used to taking gambles in business and doing whatever it took to win. He could achieve whatever he set his mind to. And his grandfather needed this done.
Besides, he hadn’t been able to fuck his way out of his weird funk. Maybe he could deprive his way out?
He slid his hand into Ari’s, and they shook. ‘You got a deal.’
2
TWO MONTHS LATER…
Tiffany Wainwright was hard to impress. She grew up on an outback cattle station that covered almost ten thousand square kilometres. Where she came from, they mustered cattle with helicopters. Large saltwater crocs lurked in the river that ran along the western boundary. She’d lost count of the number of snakes she’d encountered.
Once, when she’d been seven, a royal prince had stayed for a week.
And later, when she’d left Australia at the age of eighteen, escaping family drama to go on a grand adventure, she’d hiked to the Mount Everest base camp, danced under the Northern Lights in Iceland and walked the Great Wall of China.
Eight years ago, at the age of twenty, she started working on cruise ships. Huge floating hotels with theatres and casinos that had taken her all around the world. For the last three years she’d worked as a casino croupier onboard theHellenic Spiritwhere the amount of money that was won and lost every night was eye-watering.
All that was to say that while she might have come from the middle of nowhere, she hadn’t just fallen off the turnip truck. Still, the gleaming superyacht secured to its mooring before her was impressive. Not because of its size or its twenty-million-dollar price tag, but because of what it represented.
Exclusivity.
No four thousand people on this boat, most of whom had saved up their hard-earned cash to afford the extravagance of spending time at sea. No upselling to the high-end drinks package or the most expensive shore excursion option. This was luxury only a select few could afford.
The hull was blindingly white under the intense September sunshine that drenched the island of Hydra in bright golden light. It illuminated the clear water fringing the rocky edges of the harbour wall, bounced off terracotta rooftops and dazzled like diamonds on the sea that deepened beyond the harbour mouth.
Her gaze fell on the loopy calligraphy flowing down the side that confirmed this was, indeed, theNerida. And for the next two months, it was going to be her home.
A flutter of anticipation and excitement winged its way through Tiffany’s belly. Or maybe it was nervousness. It was the first time she’d worked on something this small, and she wasn’t sure of her role. The agency had said it would be steward work – cleaning, serving, bar work – with occasional croupier duties, which was why, largely, she’d scored the job.
Anyone could be taught to make a bed and fix a margarita, but becoming a professional croupier was a much more specialised area and not something that could be taught overnight. Of course, she’d never done it in such a bespoke environment before, but she was up for the challenge and she’d kick ass doing it because that was what she did.
A girl who’d grown up roping and wrangling cows and cowboys knew how to work hard and wasn’t afraid to get dirty doing it. And besides, she had to because life on a huge cruise ship hadn’t been working for her for the last few months.
Too many people. Too little space. Too little privacy. Not enough free time.
None of those things had bothered her before, but they did now. Which was why when her contract came up for renewal a month ago, she’d decided not to re-sign. She hadn’t known what she’d wanted but when the agency had come back to her with this job, it had seemed like a good stepping stone to whatever was next.
A chance to breathe and figure things out.
They had assured her there would be plenty of free time as the boat wasn’t being chartered this season. It was being used exclusively by the owner instead, who cruised when the whim took him and didn’t entertain too much or travel with a gang of freeloaders. But did insist on having a live-in crew at the ready at all times.
Which meant Tiffany might have time to pursue other things. Like that book that had been brewing in her head ever since she’d set foot on her first cruise ship and her romance with the ocean had begun. She’d been ignoring the urge for years but ever since Kelsey and Ari got hitched, it had thrust itself to the fore of her mind again.
They’d invited her to come and say with them in their apartment in Athens or the one in London, for as long as she needed. But Tiffany had financial responsibilities she couldn’t let slide and the newlyweds already had Kelsey’s mother living with them. They didn’t need a fourth wheel.
