Page 23 of Ship Wrecked

Maria:You were so into the scene, you didn’t notice the wave coming, so yes, you owe me

Peter:...

Peter:Yes

Peter:That’s why I didn’t notice the wave

Peter:I was just completely into the scene, you’re right

Peter:Fine

Peter:I’ll watch the damn movie, as long as you never bring up today’s incident again

Peter:I’m trying very hard to forget it

Maria:???

Maria:The wave traumatized you that much?

Peter:...

Peter:Make like Elsa and let it go, Maria

Maria:Fine, but only if you get here in the next two minutes

Peter:On my way

Maria: ??

6

“The thatch is looking a little thin there, Reedton.” Maria pointed toward a particularly sparse spot on the roof. “I thought you were all about professionalism and doing the job right?”

Hahafuckingha. Peter’s scowl didn’t noticeably discomfit her, but maybe further exposure would do the trick. He’d persevere.

“I didn’t see you perched on top of that wall and wrestling straw, Ivarsson, so shut it.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger and mimed zipping his mouth closed. “That scene was a pain in the ass.”

In fact, anyone in their right mind would find theentireroof-thatching process miserable. Ye Olde Thatchery Enthusiasts might resent that conclusion, but they’d be fuckingwrong.

Exhibit A: the endless goddamn threshing with a primitive flail to remove grain from the straw. Exhibit B: the afternoon spent twisting grass and straw into ropes, ones that would secure the roof to the stones of the permanent shelter they’d built. The task left Maria’s hands blistered and so stiff she’d barely been able to hold a fork at dinner that night.

But Maria hadn’t bemoaned those blisters, and she didn’t mind physical labor. He didn’t either. The weather maintained enough coolness and cloud cover, even in the middle of summer, that they didn’t sweat to death. And working side by side with her was—

Anyway, yeah, those parts weren’t so bad. They were actually kind of . . . enjoyable?

But they shouldn’t have been. If, to reiterate, he’d been in his right mind, rather than trapped in Maria’s Tractor Beam of Charm and Fun.

Which brought him to Exhibit C, because attempting to attach various dried grains and grasses to a layer of sod while perched high in the air on a famously windswept island? Yeah, thatdidblow. Literally andfiguratively.

He could only hope the locals’ various horses, cows, sheep, and goats appreciated the free all-you-can-eat straw buffet that descended on them from the heavens for an entire fucking week.

“You’ve been bitching about your stupid windblown straw for days, Peter.” She shook her head at him, a bemused smile curving her wide mouth. “I don’t understand why that part of things got under your skin so badly.”

He knew one thing for certain: His displeasure had nothing to do with how he and Maria had filmed separately all that week.

In the script, while Cyprian struggled with the damn roof, Cassia walked the perimeter of the island in search of more salvageable goods washed ashore from their shipwrecked vessel. They hadn’t needed to be on camera together, and that was fine. A welcome break from several months of close proximity, actually, and some much-needed time off from work when the crew tackled her scenes.

So her absence during filming definitely wasn’t the issue. His ill-fated attempts at installing the roof were simply frustrating, and that would’ve been true even if she’d helped him.

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