Page 17 of Deep In Love
Cheryl lifts a brow but is undeterred by Charlie’s grumpy attitude.
“Dan and I have a very exciting,very exclusiveproposal for you.”
My knee bounces beneath the desk, excitement for Charlie coursing through my veins. This is on her scientist bucket list—number two, to be precise—and when she finds out, she’s going to freak.
She glances in my direction, nerves radiating off her, and I offer a smile.
You know she’s off-kilter if she’s looking tomefor reassurance.
My instinct is to take her hand in mine and offer her comfort, but it’s not my place. The lines defining our relationship are odd. I could tell her that I’m into her—have been since the moment I saw her at the new student mixer—but the confession would catalyze a series of events I’m not sure I’m emotionally prepared to face.
I’ve perpetually flirted with her, hopeful that she would walk into our shared office space one day and flirt back, but she never has.
On a few rare occasions, I’ve caught her admiring me—at least, that’s how it felt. But she’s never expressed interest inme, and it continues to hold me back.
The limbo state is growing old, if I’m being honest.
“Okay?”
She picks at the sparkly purple nail polish on her finger, chips of paint decorating her jeans.
“We’ve been contacted by RogueWave Productions. Have you heard of them?” Dan asks. “They’re well known for documentaries.”
Dan and I had this conversation yesterday after I finalized the plane tickets and hotel bookings, but Charlie is still in the dark. It may have been a poor choice, given she looks like she may vomit.
“No…” Charlie trails off.
“You’re going to be on TV,” Cheryl blurts out, and dread settles in my stomach. We were supposed to sprinkle in the TV part but lead with the research vessel. There’s also the small issue that the cabin only has one bed, but I amnotpoking that beast until I have to.
Hopefully someone will break the news to her, because I can’t do it without conjuring dirty images of Charlie splayed out in the bed, naked and writhing beneath me, my name on her tongue.
“Hell no.”
The words rip me back to reality, where Charlie’s twirling a white-and-gray bracelet around her wrist, her nail polish completely demolished.
Dan’s brow furrows, and I snake my hand beneath the desk to squeeze Charlie’s thigh. I don’t touch her often, because she despises me, and based on the look she’s offering right now, she might hate me even more after today. Which is problematic because we’re about to spend three weeks at sea together.
“Hear them out, bruja,” I say, giving her muscles another squeeze. Her eyeballs bulge from her skull. Thin, dainty fingers grip mine with shocking strength and pry my hand off her thigh.
I cough to disguise my laughter.
“Jett Parks is funding the production of a documentary in the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary. Cheryl and I were invited to collaborate as research advisors; however, we have a nonrefundable all-inclusive vacation in Bermuda,” Dan says. “We suggested sending Mateo and you in our stead, and the production crew and Jett agreed. You’re set to spend the next three weeks upon the SeaStar research vessel.”
The room is silent, and Charlie spins in my direction, utter shock marking those pretty features. Disbelief shifts her irises to a stunning shade of bright blue.
“W-what?” She slides her shaky hands beneath her thighs. “I-I—SeaStar?” she stutters, and I offer her a moment to compose her thoughts.
“We have full access to the research lab and the sampling apparatuses on board, meaning we can collect soil and water samples.”Pause for dramatic effect. “All for free.”
It may be the most exciting aspect of the voyage, at least for a PhD student with a tight research budget.
“Free?” she croaks.
“Free,” I confirm.
“If you agree—and we hope you do since Mateo already booked flights and accommodation—you’ll spend the next three weeks identifying species and offering commentary on biological processes,” Dan says.
Cheryl adds, “The documentary is calledAliens of the Deep,so your focus will be on deep-sea species.”
