Page 19 of The Flirtation
Avery took a sip and exclaimed, “Oh holy shit, that’sdelicious!”
Bucket burst out laughing. “I told you!” She immediately looked at me and covered her mouth. “Sorry.”
As if I were some uptight duke that she had to be on her best behavior for. It really was good. “Fuck yeah, it’s delicious,” Isaid.
Shegiggled.
“Right on. I’m really glad you could both join me here, I’ve really liked working with youtwo.”
I swear I saw Avery blush as she looked at me, but it could have been the reflection of the sunset. “This has been a fun and surprisingly easy deal to handle, right Mr.Mason?”
“Indeed, Miss Davis. Despite everything, we somehow managed to successfully shepherd a transatlantic merger, with very few jobs lost, and almost no bloodshed,” Ijoked.
“Yes, probably because of Luke’s total lack of charm and humor, we were able to focus on keeping things on track, on schedule and onbudget.”
“Well, let’s not underestimate the power of Avery’s unpleasant demeanor—we all try our best to stay in line—or face herwrath.”
Bucket looked at us, back and forth, though we barely looked at each other. He smiled. “Ooookaaay. I’m liking what I’m hearing, kids. Let’s get on that boat before the sun sets, I’mstarving.”
“There better not be pirates,” Averymuttered.
“Unlikely, but this boat has been surrounded by swimming pigs at Big Major’s Cay,” Bucket laughed. “That was the best day.” He got a faraway look in hiseyes.
We followed him down to the private dock to a sixty-foot cockpit motor yacht named “The EndlessSummer.”
“You better not have bought this with your private account, Bucket,” scolded Avery. It was worth at least half a million dollars,surely.
He laughed. “It comes with the villa, Mom. Ain’t she a beauty.” A crew man waved at us from the top deck, as Bucket deftly hopped aboard. He held his arm out to help Avery off the dock, but she nearly lost her balance as she stepped over the side. My hands automatically reached out to steady her, but they went straight to her hips. I hoped she didn’t find that too intimate. She caught her breath and looked back at me, over hershoulder.
“You alright?” I asked. My lips were dangerously close to herface.
“Mmhmm,” shenodded.
I released her, cleared my throat, and heard her sigh. All I wanted, in that moment, was to be able to hear her sigh again. To be the one who made her do it, over andover.
Well done, Mr. Mason. At least hands on hips is more of a professional distance than hands on thighs. Try not to turn into a drunken lecherous creepy pervert tonight, shall we? Save that for the last night, beclever.
A dining table was set up on the upper deck. There were hurricane candle holders, an exotically-scented bouquet set on the table, and two heat lamps, as promised. The built-in speakers whispered some sultry DJ-mixed beach vibe-y music that I imagined was the soundtrack to Bucket’s life. A young fresh-faced server welcomed us with more Bahama Mamas, as per Bucket’s instructions, I’m sure, and we were seated to a beautiful salad of fruits, vegetables, shrimp and edible flowers. It looked delicious, but to be honest, everything that night tasted of rum, coconut and pineapple, and that was not a bad thing. I hadn’t even noticed when the boat had left thedock.
All through dinner, in between sips of Bahama Mama, Avery kept trying to steer our conversation back in the direction of the merger and our progress since closing the deal, and Bucket would listen and nod for approximately thirty seconds, then check his phone and then change the subjectagain.
“Here’s something I’ve always wondered, Davis. Why did you get into business and wealth management, anyway? Not a lot of hot women in your line of work.” He glanced over at me briefly, before looking back at her, not at alllasciviously.
She looked offended at first, and it seemed to take her a moment to realize that he was referring to her as a hot woman, and that seemed to surprise her. “Well, Buck Reynolds, I will ignore your comment about women and give you the short answer to thatquestion.”
He and I both leaned forward, and she smiled before continuing. “My father left when I was fourteen. It was a shock and it was devastating at first. My mother had to work two jobs in an attempt to keep my sister and I at the same level of comfort that we’d been used to—which was very middle class—and when I was fifteen I got copies of Suze Orman’s books from thelibrary…”
“The PBS lady with the short blonde hair?” Bucket scrunched up his face, waiting to get playfullypunched.
She playfully punched him as she continued. “The brilliant personal financial advisor and motivational speaker, yes, whom my mother and I had seen on PBS. She specializes in empowering women, and I read those books from cover to cover, made notes, and I started balancing the checkbook and our budget, for my mom, putting away some savings, and it made her worry less, and gave me a sense of control and power and hope for thefuture.”
“Good for you,” I said, raising my glass toher.
“And now you help make the richricher.”
She shrugged. “I do my part, sure, but the goal—my goal—ultimately, is to open my own firm that helps manage money for singlemothers.”
“That’s very noble of you,” Bucket said, after some consideration. “That was an asshole way of saying that, sorry. My mom raised me. If I’m still rich when you’re ready to open that firm, let me know, I’d like to help in any way Ican.”
