“And make sure next time you call me, you’ve gotten a shag.”
“You going to arrange for me to have company? A security-cleared escort?”
“I always suspected you paid for it.” Landon chuckled.
“Fuck you. I’m stuck on a yacht in the middle of the fucking sea. Alone,” I said.
“You’ve always got an excuse for your complete lack of game.”
“Go find me the fucking leak. And try to stay out of trouble while you’re doing it.” I hung up and tossed the phone on the desk. Speaking to Landon more often than normal was nice. I made a mental note to suggest we resume our regular squash game when I got back to London, which led to thoughts of getting home, sweaty, spent and then dragging Avery into the shower with me and fucking her until neither of us could stand.
Except Avery wouldn’t be in London with me. She’d be on another charter with other guests who would make ridiculous demands of her and treat her like the help. My jaw clenched. Would she visit me in London? I could fly in, but she rarely got time off. However ready I was to get back to London, I knew that Avery Walker would be difficult to walk away from. Impossible to forget. Women like Avery came along once in a lifetime and I needed to figure something out before my cruise around the Mediterranean was over.
I checked my watch. It was past midnight and it had been hours since Avery had gone to speak to Skylar. I was growing impatient. I wanted to see her.
From what I could make out, most of the crew seemed to finish up around eleven and I’d expected Avery to come down to tell me what had happened with Skylar. I was about to go back up to the main deck when a rap on my office door jolted me upright. I strode across the space and yanked the door open. Avery slid inside, and I closed and locked the door.
Reading people’s body language had been invaluable to me during the course of my career. I could tell when people were bluffing, when they were under pressure, when I’d surprised them. It was part of the reason I’d found it so difficult to believe I had a leak in my top team. They were people I knew well, people I thought I could read.
But a blind man would have understood that Avery was unhappy as she leaned against my office door, her arms folded, her eyes downcast.
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “What did Skylar say?”
She shook her head. “No. I need to tell you something that happened today. This morning after I left the hotel. I’ve not had a chance—”
“Are you okay? Is this about Skylar?”
“Please just listen to me. This weird guy approached me. He was asking about you.”
I didn’t understand what this had to do with Skylar and me getting Avery into trouble. “What guy?”
“I don’t know. Some British guy. He asked me lots of questions about the boat and you. Offered me money to tell him stuff.”
“Tell him what?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, sometimes we get paps offering us money to confirm which celebrity’s on our boat but this guy wanted to know about your work. And he said I’d confirmed to him you were on the boat and if I did, Hayden, I’m sorry. I got a little freaked out and he was telling me I knew more than I said I did and I was confused and trying to get away from him.”
Her words were tumbling out and her voice was getting higher and higher.
“Shhh,” I said and moved toward her, but she put her hand out, her palm facing me to stop me. Fuck, I hated that. I wanted to comfort her, to make things better. “Seriously, don’t worry. This boat was booked in my name. It wouldn’t be difficult for someone to find out where I was. I’m on holiday. That’s how it’s meant to look if anyone sees me or finds out where I am.”
“I didn’t ruin it for you? I don’t think I told him but maybe I did.”
She was so fucking worried about me when she was the one who was potentially going to lose her job. “You didn’t ruin anything.” I’d mention this encounter to my brother. Maybe it was Cannon sneaking around. But Cannon was the least of my worries right at that moment. “Tell me about Skylar, Avery. What happened? Do I need to go and speak to Captain Moss?”
“She said she hadn’t told anyone. That she wouldn’t.”
I took a half step toward her, but she slid along the wall and out of my reach. “She’s covering for me. And I hate that she’s had to,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not right. Last night was . . .” Her words faded as if she was sinking into the memories of the previous evening. Then she pulled in a breath. “But enough. There’s too much at stake for me. This is where it ends.”