Page 10 of The Butler

“Welcome aboard, sir,” Starr said, extending her hand that ended in beautifully lacquered nails toward me. Starr and I had been working together for nearly a decade, on and off the boat, and she was a prized employee, but we kept it professional in front of the crew. I’d get my hug another time. She motioned to the striking young man by her side. “Mr. Carrington, this is Deklyn Dalton, your butler, sir.” The stranger held his hand out and I shook it. His handshake wasn’t a gripper, and it wasn’t a limp fish either. He had mastered the perfect amount of squeeze. I felt a squeeze on my heart as our handshake lingered. We looked directly into each other’s eyes as we took that extra moment that said, “Hmmm, interesting.”

Deklyn was approximately two to three inches under six feet with thick blond hair that appeared sun kissed. His hair was shaggy in a stylish way, with expertly cut purpose. It gave him a beach-bum vibe while complimenting a stunning face. Brighter streaks of blond occurred naturally in his hair, giving it depth and texture. The all-white uniform with a tight white button-up shirt and royal-blue tie, looked amazing on him. He smiled and perfect teeth were set behind full, natural pink lips. I felt another squeeze in my chest. How long had it been since I felt like this? I still had his hand in mine, secretly hoping he could sense my pleasure at seeing him on board.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” he said with a decidedly masculine voice.Pretty and masculine? Put a fork in me.I wondered if three months after suffering heartbreak was too soon to start accepting love applications.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” I said, still holding his hand and staring into his devastatingly gorgeous eyes. “Starr has said wonderful things about you, Deklyn.” She hadn’t. Not to me anyway, but I imagined she would have. She at least could have warned me about his looks and charismatic charm that currently held me in its embrace.

“I look forward to working with you, sir,” he said, regrettably withdrawing his hand. I immediately wanted to invite him to call me Linc, but protocol got the better of me. Deklyn was an employee and the old adage thatyou don’t shit where you eatreminded me to be cautious about this boy.

My eyes remained locked on his, so a tap on my arm from Bob encouraged me to keep going. “Move along, Linc. You have other crew members to greet,” he hissed in my ear. I shot him a death glare. Who was he to interrupt me while I was falling in love at first sight? That seemed rude.

CHAPTER NINE: Deklyn

“Set the luggage down,” Jake admonished, steering me away from the deckhands and the pile of luggage being hauled from the helicopter. “You’re Mr. Carrington’s personal butler, not a deckhand,” he added, smiling at me and making me wish I’d applied for deckhand/love slave for the First Officer.

“Habit,” I answered. “Not used to being inside the boat.”

“Trust me. I wish you were on the deck,” he shared, causing me to blush. Was OfficerDream-boatflirting with me?

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” I responded, keeping an eye on Mr. Carrington’s associate who’d shown up with him while I spoke with Jake. The intense man was definitely not some numb-nuts bodyguard or hanger-on. He had the appearance of an important person in Mr. C.’s life.

I watched as Mr. Carrington made his way down the steps to the deck. Instead of going into the forward salon he walked around the bow of the yacht greeting crew members and carefully observing his property while I assumed he was inspecting the overall condition of the vessel. From what I could tell, it glistened. What I also noticed about Mr. Carrington when we were up close shaking hands, was so did he.

I’d seen the pictures, read the gossip, and done my own research since arriving on board, but no amount of sleuthing had done a damn bit of justice to the man in the flesh. He was a solid twelve on a scale of ten. He proved in the looks department that forty wasn’t fatal. This man looked thirty at best and even that was maybe a bit harsh. Father time had been kind to my boss and I had to admit I was fascinated. How long had it been since I was fascinated or anything like that? A month? A year? Oh yeah, since freshman year of college.Uh-oh!

“I expect you’ll conduct yourself as a professional with Mr. Carrington,” a gruff voice said from behind me, catching me longingly gazing at the boss. I spun around and faced the man who’d recently arrived with my boss. “He’ll need plenty of space and distance while he’s on board as well.”

“Of course, sir,” I responded. “I’ll do my very best.

“Good to hear, Mr. Dalton,” he said. “Even though you’ve been onboard in the past, you are new to this role, so remember a butler is discrete and keeps their distance.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“I’ll assume that Starr has gone over the employee guidelines while onboard the boat?” he asked, studying me carefully. “Primarily the part about fraternization among the crew?”

“She has, sir. I am fully aware of the rules.”

“Very well then,” he stated. “Mr. Carrington should want for nothing while he is here. Is that understood?” I nodded my agreement and glanced toward Jake. He was as surprised by the approach as I was. “Best be getting to your job now, Deklyn.”

The man was unquestionably not alow on the totem polehanger-on. He knew both my first and last name which meant he’d seen my employee file because I’d never met him before that day. He’d been sure to point out crew etiquette as well. He had Mr. C.’s back and had just let me know what my job onboard entailed in the behavior department and that he had his eye on me.

I watched him earlier as he’d studied my introduction and hand shake with Mr. Carrington and the tap on the shoulder he’d given him to get Mr. Carrington to move along on the line of crew members. I’d felt a connection between the boss and I during the longer than expected handshake. Had he?

Jake and I stepped by each other’s sides and watched as he followed after our boss. The man was big and bulky. He had an unmistakable professional aspect to his mannerisms but he also looked like he could start for an NFL team on the defensive line. There was a protective and surly tone to his presence just like a lineman has when protecting his quarterback. I knew who his quarterback was and he’d just shown me he planned on making sure I kept myself in line in regards to him.

“Shit! I wouldn’t want to mess with him,” Jake spoke up. “Jesus!” he added, leaning into my side and bumping my shoulder. “Never mind him, Dek. I’ll protect you.”

“Let’s hope neither of us needs protection from him,” I muttered. “But thank you, Jake, for the support.”

Jake and I waited until all of the luggage was securely moved from the helipad and headed our separate ways to our posts. Him to the bridge, and me to the center of the yacht where the center of my attention was staying for the next two weeks. I was the butler to a billionaire on a mega-yacht. How the hell had this happened and what had I gotten myself into?

CHAPTER TEN: Lincoln

The boat looked pristine and I was pleased the crew kept her in such outstanding condition. Maintaining a vessel of this size was no easy task and having the best paid crew in the business paid dividends when it came to keeping her that way.

Whenever I came aboard Action I made a point to immediately walk about for a while as I surveyed the cleanliness and condition of the boat. My little stroll always sent the message that I was on board and I was watching at all times. The more senior staff, like my captain, his officers, and the engine crew were well aware of my demanding nature and knew to keep me apprised of any issues or needs they had. I depended on them and they did a brilliant job of meeting my expectations. The deck hands and the interior crew were a constant revolving door on a ship, so I depended on Starr for maintaining and training the interior crew, and my bosun did the same for the deck crew.

Starr and a young man named Luke, my lead deckhand and bosun, knew the type of crew members I desired and filled the positions with the finest examples of skilled workers. If each hire happened to have won the DNA lottery of human specimens, so be it. They knew I liked them attractive and pleasing to the eye. Thus, my yacht was registered in Panama where I could skirt the harsh employment laws of America. That was not to say that I was a bad employer. I paid top dollar and treated my team with respect, but I still liked a good looking crew. I wasn’t proud of my shallowness but I hadn’t stopped hiring them that way either.

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