Page 16 of A Shore Fling
“The tides have been weird for a week now.”
I stare pointedly at him.
He swallows and shifts inmychair. “She asked important questions. She listened to what I said.”
“Did you make sure she had directions to her rental?”
“No.”
“Did you quiz her on tide charts?”
“No.”
“You never should’ve let her take the boat out alone the first time.”
He pushes his glasses up his nose. “But that’s up to the homeowners and the rental agency.”
“What if she ran someone over or crashed into another boat? Would you be able to live with yourself, knowing you could’ve prevented it from happening but didn’t?”
He takes a few seconds to think it over, then nods. “Yeah. I don’t think it would be my fault.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing myself to calm down. “You would have culpability too.”
He laughs. “That’s okay. I don’t even know what that means.”
Take a deep breath, and don’t strangle him.
“No, it’snotokay. And culpability means you would share in the blame.” He opens his mouth to argue, and I quickly finish. “Which means you’d lose your job.”
How do you like them apples?
His bushy eyebrows lower in a frown. “I would?”
“Yes, you would. So what are you going to do the next time a situation like this happens?”
“Call you?”
“Sure. You can call me. But if I’m unavailable, youdo notgive them the keys, and you inform them theycannotdrive a boat without having a lesson. I’m going to contact the agency and remind them they’re supposed to have someone here to take their renters out for their first ride. It’s certainly not our job to do so. Now, get out of my seat so I can finish up.”
He rolls the chair back and jumps to his feet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move that fast. Could it have been the mention of losing his job? Maybe I should make that threat more often.
I drop into my chair and start filling out the incident report.
“So is she okay?” David interrupts.
“Yeah, she’s fine.” I jot down the rest of the information in the usual shorthand, noting the time, tide, coordinates, and Perkins Marine towing the Sea Ray.
“She was pretty,” David says.
“Huh?” I look up from the report.
He grins. “She sure was pretty.”
“Like a soaked, sunburnt castaway,” I say, returning my focus to the paper in front of me.
“A pretty one, though,” he adds as he gathers his things and then leaves.
He had to get the last word in. And he wasn’t wrong about Nina. But she’s still a disaster—albeit an attractive one.
