“Nooooooo,” wailed Geoff. He raised his free hand and swung out into space.
“She’s beautiful,” Mike said.
“Not again,” said Geoff. “No more.” He pushed off into space. No scream. Wind.
“Fuck,” Mike said. He looked, then looked away. He didn’t want to see him hit. He cringed and anticipated the sound. It came up from the water like a distant gunshot.
“Mike?” said Lily.
He caught his breath. He could feel his pulse rushing in his ears and the sound of people shouting below. A code blue came over his radio, signaling for everyone on the crew to stay secured in place until the captain of the bridge could assess the situation.
“He went over,” Mike said into the phone.
“Balls,” Lily said. “This is on you, Mike. This is not on me. If you’d given him the phone—”
“He wouldn’t take it. I couldn’t get close to him.”
“You should have had him call me himself.”
“He didn’t have a phone.”
“What kind of loser goes out without a phone?”
“I know,” said Mike. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Well, couldn’t be helped,” said Lily. “You’re going to lose some. I’ve been doing this awhile, and even with your best moves, some are going in the drink.”
“Thanks,” said Mike.
“You sound nice,” said Lily. “Single?”
“Uh, kind of.”
“Me, too. Straight?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look, I have your number. Okay if I call you?”
Mike was still shaking from Geoff’s dive. “Sure.”
“I’ll text you mine. Call anytime.”
“Okay,” Mike said.
“But the blow-job thing is not automatic, Mike. That’s strictly a crisis-line thing.”
“Of course,” Mike said.
“But not out of the question,” said Lily.
“Okay. What do you do if the caller is a woman?”
“I commiserate. I can go from zero to co-miserable at the speed of dark.”
“Okay.”
“I know things, Mike. Many things. Terrible, dark, disturbing things.”