Page 73 of Trick of Light
Seeing his reaction, she held up a hand. “I know, it’s a leap. Blood and vomit aren’t exactly unusual. But I did note it.”
She made to get out of the truck, but before she could, he snagged her wrist. Cupping a hand around the back of her neck, he drew her close for a long, intimate kiss. “I’m definitely not trying to get rid of you,” he murmured. “I’m glad you’re with me.”
When they drew apart, she was smiling. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
And the world brightened.
He swung out of the Land Rover, while Gabby did the same, her tote bag over her shoulder. As they headed along the float toward the catamaran, Gabby shuddered lightly. “I might never look at sailboats the same way again after what happened in the spring. You know I was held captive on one, right?”
“I wish I’d been on the island then. I could have been a hero.”
“I was my own hero that time, but maybe you’ll get another chance,” she teased.
“I’m not sure if I should hope for that or not.”
They were still laughing about that question when they reached the catamaran’s slip. The boat was sleek and well-maintained, its twin pontoons cutting through the water like butter. A wiry man with carrot-red hair streaked with gray was working on the boat’s deck, a small paint can in one hand, a tar-covered brush in the other. The scent of tar drifted over the railings toward them. Barnaby had always loved that smell, which reminded him of boat piers and hot summers.
“Angus Telford?” Barnaby called.
The man straightened and froze at the sight of them. “Stop where you are. You have no permission to board. This boat is my castle and I’m standing my ground.”
Okay then. Barnaby and Gabby shared a glance. She tipped her head to indicate he should take the lead.
Barnaby raised his hands in a gesture of acceptance. “We don’t want to come onboard, we just want to ask you some questions. Your catamaran’s a stunner. What is it, a Sunreef Seventy?”
In his experience, boat people loved talking about their boats. But Angus didn’t soften one bit.
“I have to talk to you people at work, but not here. Get off my slip.”
You people? Barnaby exchanged another glance with Gabby. Where was all this hostility coming from? “I’m Barnaby Carmichael. My family is paying for this slip. I can stand on it if I want.”
This time, the Carmichael name-drop didn’t work. “You’re only paying for it because if you don’t, all hell’s gonna break loose. Everyone will know about you.” He pointed the paintbrush at Barnaby. “I got a contract and you better live up to it.”
Standoff.
Barnaby wasn’t sure what approach to take next. He glanced at Gabby.
“Mr. Telford,” she said, as polite and respectful as a person could be. “We’re here because we’re very interested in what you have to say.”
He didn’t even look at her, but kept his focus on Barnaby. “You shouldn’t have brought her. This is my castle. And I know about you. You can’t come on either. Only pure-bloods on my ark.”
A shock ran through him as he realized what was going on here. Pure-bloods? Angus Telford was a racist who didn’t want a Black person near him. He must hide his beliefs at work, because people of every race and ethnicity worked and received treatment at the hospital.
He stepped closer to Gabby, so no daylight separated them.
“I came here to talk, but if you’re going to insult my colleague, I’ll have to take another look at that contract.”
He felt a hard nudge in his side. Gabby’s lips were tight, her jaw set. She didn’t want him to throw his weight around, he realized. She wanted answers, just as he did. “We just want to know about what happened in the hospital when he was born. He can release you from your NDA if you’re concerned about that.”
“What happened was a sin.” He waved at Gabby, though he still wouldn’t look at her. “She was maybe three shades lighter than her. Wouldn’t pass the paper bag test. Now look at you.”
Barnaby’s skin crawled. The paper bag test? What was this, the 1930s?
He reassessed the dude. Someone like him, with such hardened views, would he even respond to threats about his bottom line?
But there was one thing he definitely cared about.
“I don’t care if people know I have some Black in me. I’m proud of it. Tell the world if you want. And pay for your own marina bills. I’m sure that will be easy to do once I make some calls to the hospital. We’re their biggest funder, you know. It’d be a shame if you lost both your job and your boat.” He gestured to Angus’ pride and joy.
