The Secret of Othello Page 4

  “I’m scheduled to lifeguard three days this week,” Steven said, “but Robbie Gerstein’s been asking for overtime. He could take my shifts.”

  Denny liked that idea. Working as a lifeguard left Steven too much time to sit around and worry about his SEAL waiver request. A charter would be good for him.

  Captain Flaherty picked up a pen. “Here’s how much my brother is paying.”

  He wrote a number on a yellow sticky note and passed it to Steven. Steven glanced at it and handed it to Denny. Denny’s mouth dropped open. He quickly closed it.

  Steven grinned. “Tell your brother he’s got a charter, sir.”

  “Tell him yourself,” Captain Flaherty said. “He’s right down the hall.”

  *

  “You’re kidding,” said Brad Flaherty, rolling his wheelchair back a few inches to more fully scowl at Denny and Steven. “You want me to go diving with the Jonas Brothers?”

  One of the Coasties in the break room snickered. Steven felt his face heat up. Good money or not, he couldn’t see taking this guy out diving without wanting to turn off his tank.

  “Dad, please don’t use pop culture references you don’t understand,” said the teenage girl behind him. “Nobody even listens to the Jonas Brothers anymore.”

  She was short and trim, like a tennis player, and pretty. Really pretty, with long dark hair and hazel green eyes, and the kind of pale skin that said she wore a lot of sunscreen. Not that Steven was noticing much. And he wasn’t noticing the way her white shorts clung to her thighs, or the swell of her breasts under her T-shirt, or the glossy shine of her lips.

  “They don’t look old enough to drive,” Brad said.

  Captain Flaherty said, calmly, “They can drive, dive, swim, and sail better than most sailors I know, Brad.”

  Denny said, politely, “We’ve been diving since we were in middle school, sir. We both have master diver certifications.”

  Brad’s skepticism increased. “You’ve logged more than fifty dives?”

  “You can start when you’re twelve years old,” Denny said.

  Deliberately less polite, Steven added, “We’re overachievers.”

  Brad turned to his brother. “Really, Dermot, this is the best you can do?”

  “Daddy, don’t be rude,” complained the girl. She offered her hand to Steven. “I’m Tristan.”

  Steven shook her hand. Her fingers were soft, but she didn’t have a fancy manicure like many of the girls Steven knew. He said, “I’m Steven, that’s Denny. I’m the good-looking one.”

  She smiled. “You’re identical twins.”

  “Only on the outside,” Denny said.

  Tristan shook Denny’s hand, too. “If you can get my dad on your boat, I can get him down below and out of your hair.”

  Brad said, “I’m not a piece of cargo.”

  Tristan kissed his cheek. “But you’re being ornery. Don’t you think that if Uncle Dermot trusts them, we can, too?”

  “I don’t trust anyone half my age,” Brad groused.

  “Except for me,” Tristan added.

  “And me!” said a kid from the doorway. He was only ten or so, wearing a baggy Coast Guard T-shirt. “I’m like a quarter your age, right, Dad? Look what the chief gave me.”

  The kid was named Jimmy, and the gift was a small model of a Coast Guard helicopter. Captain Flaherty said, “Jimmy won’t be going out to the dives with you—he gets seasick.”

  “I throw up a lot,” Jimmy said emphatically. “Big green chunks. You definitely don’t want to see it.”

  Brad had a mulish expression on his face. “I didn’t say I agreed to this. I’m still thinking about the options.”

  Steven wondered if the man had always been a jerk, or if it was related to whatever had put him into that wheelchair. No one had mentioned Tristan and Jimmy’s mother. Maybe there’d been a tragic drunk driving accident that injured him and killed her. Maybe she’d left him after whatever tragedy had paralyzed him. It really was none of his business. Five days of diving, in and out, and he’d have a nice big chunk of money to split with Denny.

  Captain Flaherty said, “You’re not going to get a better deal, Brad. I trust these boys with my life. Denny’s going into the academy in a few weeks and Steven’s been accepted for SEAL training.”

  Steven didn’t correct him.

  Brad eyed them both top-to-bottom again. Then he rolled back to his laptop and snapped it shut. “Tomorrow morning, eight a.m., where do we meet you?”

  “At the city marina,” Steven said. “The boat’s called the Idle.”

  “Like American Idol?” Jimmy asked.

  “Not quite,” Steven said.

  Denny and Steven showed themselves out of the building. They were getting into Steven’s truck when Tristan called their names. She caught up to them, a little breathless.

  “I wanted to apologize for my dad,” she said. “He’s just disappointed right now that the other guy didn’t show up.”

  Steven was glad she’d said that. He also liked that some pink had come into her cheeks, the little dimples at the corners of her mouth and the way her shirt fit her. She was about a foot shorter than he was, the perfect size for tucking under his arm and snuggling—

  From across the truck hood, Denny said, “We’ll take good care of you out there.”

  Denny slid into the passenger seat. Steven asked, “Do you guys need anything before tomorrow? You’ve got a place to stay and eat and everything?”

  “Oh, sure. We’re staying with Uncle Dermot. Aunt Janice makes a mean meat loaf.” Tristan squinted up at him. “Also, just so you know, I think you’re really cute.”

  “Yeah?” Steven asked, pleased.

  “And I have a boyfriend,” Tristan said, folding her arms. “A really big, smart, jealous boyfriend. We’re going to Cornell together in the fall. I know you’re the kind of guy who’s used to getting what he wants, but you’re not going to get me.”

  Steven silently took back every nice thing he had thought about her.

  “Well, just so you know, I have a girlfriend,” he retorted. “Valedictorian of our class, drop-dead gorgeous, and jealous enough to scratch your eyes out. You look like the kind of girl who thinks she can run the place, but on our boat there’s one boss and one boss only.”

  Tristan lifted her chin. “You or your brother?”

  “Both.”

  “That’s two bosses,” she said. “I hope you can dive better than you can count.”

  Steven got into the truck, threw it into reverse, and pulled out of the space with maybe a little more force than necessary.

  Denny braced himself against the dashboard.

  “What got into your pants?” he asked.

  “This is going to be the worst week of my entire life,” Steven predicted.

  Chapter Seven

  They’d had a very long day but it wasn’t over yet. First they stopped to get a new phone for Denny. After that, they went to finish cleaning the apartment. Too late, Denny wished they’d bounced the charter idea against Dad—what if he needed them at the house? When they called him, he said Captain Flaherty had cleared it with him first.

  “Besides, unless you both turned into trained roofers overnight, I don’t think there’s much you can do here,” Dad said.

  They spent the rest of the day scrubbing down the kitchen, getting the bathroom in reasonable shape, and installing two window air conditioners that had been in storage. By five o’clock they were enjoying cold streams of air, too exhausted to move off the sofa.

  “I’m going to fall asleep right here,” Denny said, closing his eyes. “Wake me in a week.”

  Steven grunted. “Can’t. Gotta get our scuba gear off your boat and get the Idle ready for Sir Brad and Princess Jekyll-and-Hyde.”

  Someone knocked on the door at the bottom of the stairs. The hinges creaked open. “Denny? You up there?”

  Brian’s voice. Denny was hot, sweaty, and filthy. It really wasn’t the best time to get togeth
er. But he said, “Come on up,” and sat up, trying to look alert.

  Brian climbed the stairs. He had a big flat box in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. “I brought some pizza in case you’re hungry.”

  The pizza smelled deliciously of sausage and cheese and onions. Steven leapt to his feet and snatched it out of Brian’s hands.

  “You are the most awesome person on this planet right now,” Steven said.

  “Thanks. And I’ve got soda and some garlic bread and those cinnamon churro things.”

  The kitchen table was barely big enough for all the food. Steven inhaled three pieces of pizza with grateful noises that sounded vaguely pornographic. Denny ate more slowly, happy for the food but also nervous. Brian had his serious look on. That had to mean bad news. Maybe his mother was freaking out so much that he’d decided to break up with Denny entirely.

  Wouldn’t that be the perfect end to a sucky day? First a crashing tree, then a crushed heart.

  After another piece of pizza, Steven burped long and loud. “That was the best meal ever. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Brian replied.

  For the first time, Steven seemed to notice that Brian and Denny weren’t doing much talking. The Bookmine had gone silent beneath them, and the loudest noise was the ancient refrigerator in the kitchen.

  Loud knocking interrupted the quiet, followed by a double set of footsteps on the stairs. “Is that pizza I smell?” Sean called out. “I’m famished!”

  Robin appeared first in the doorway, carrying a cardboard box. “Thought you might need this stuff up here, so I raided the supply closet downstairs.”

  Denny took the bag. Toilet paper, paper towels, and more cleaning supplies. Robin had always been the most practical person in their high school class. Sean grabbed for the last churro and said, “Feed us and we’re all yours. What do you need done?”

  “Nothing,” Steven said. “We’re finished for the day.”

  Denny almost argued about that—the bed needed sheets and pillows, half the lamps were missing lightbulbs, and the tub needed scrubbing—but Steven was already scooping up the pizza box and trash.

  “I’ll meet you back at the marina, Denny,” Steven continued, blithely ignoring Sean’s disappointment. He headed for the stairs. “Come on, you guys. You can help with the boat.”

  Sean trailed after him. “I think my mom wants me to babysit…”

  Robin also had an excuse. “I’m supposed to take my sister to the movies…”

  A moment later, Denny and Brian were alone in the apartment. Brian was perched on the end of his chair, watching Denny with an inscrutable expression. Denny put Robin’s supplies on the coffee table and sat on the sofa uneasily.

  “Thanks again for the pizza,” Denny said. “You didn’t have to.”

  “I tried calling to see what kind you liked, but you didn’t pick up.”

  Denny winced. “Sorry. The new one is still charging.”

  Brian moved to the battered coffee table in front of Denny and sat on its edges. “This is what I was talking about last night. We barely know each other, right? I don’t know if you like pepperoni or anchovies or whatever.”

  Denny couldn’t bear to look at him. Not if they were breaking up. He cut his gaze to the dusty windows and said, “It’s not important.”

  Brian’s hands cupped Denny’s knees. “It is important. That’s why people date. To figure out what they like and what they don’t like, what they have in common, what makes that other person interesting. I know that you can swim half an ocean to get help, but I don’t know if you like regular Coke or diet.”

  “Neither,” Denny murmured. His hands felt sweaty and his mouth dry. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  Brian blanched. “Am I what? No! I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you climb out that window this morning.”

  Relief made Denny almost giddy. “Oh! Well, yeah. You definitely should.”

  Brian moved next to him on the sofa. Denny turned to him, worried he was going to do it wrong—mash noses, knock Brian’s glasses off, put his teeth or tongue in the wrong place. Brian, however, knew what he was doing. He put his hands on Denny’s shoulders and his mouth over Denny’s and there it was, the heat Denny had been longing for—heat and spark and Brian’s firm, confident lips.

  “All day long I wanted this,” Brian repeated, between kisses. “You are so handsome.”

  Denny was taller but Brian was heavier, more certain, and lots more experienced. He eased Denny backward against the ratty side cushions and stretched on top of him. Denny was torn between elation—getting kissed, he was getting kissed by a boy, and Brian’s hands were stroking his shoulders—and worry that Brian was going to think he was a pushover. But that was silly, right, because Denny just wanted to get as much experience as he could, what did it matter who was on top of whom?

  “Relax,” Brian urged. “It’s just the two of us.”

  “I know,” Denny said.

  Brian kissed Denny’s jaw, his cheekbone, and his right temple. Each one was like a tiny, pleasurable shock. “I want to find out your favorite movies. Your favorite foods. Your favorite everything.”

  Denny dug one hand into Brian’s back and the other in his blond hair. He pulled him closer. “I’ll make you a list.”

  Brian gave him that sweet, lovely smile that Denny would run a marathon to see. “You can put your hands lower, if you want.”

  “If I want,” Denny repeated, with a giggle, because sure he did. “You don’t know how much I want.”

  Brian kissed him again. And this was even better than before, because Denny was pretty sure he wasn’t doing it wrong at all. Confidence made him make a happy noise. He sensed a milestone about to arrive—fantastic, wonderful milestone, no wonder everyone else in high school had been busy having sex while he studied for the Coast Guard Academy—

  “Dennis Anderson!” a sharp voice said, completely shattering his elation. “What are you doing?”

  Denny bolted upright so fast that he nearly dumped Brian onto the floor. Brian braced himself against the coffee table at the last minute. Denny stared at his aunt Riza, who was standing a few feet away with her suitcase at her feet and her mouth set in a horrified line.

  Behind Aunt Riza, Mom finished climbing the stairs and took in the situation.

  “Surprise,” Mom said. “We came back early. I guess we should have called.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sunset brought pink and gold to the sky, followed by a twilight that shaded everything to blue-gray. Steven dumped a bucket of water over the stern of the Idle and paused to watch the bobbing lights of other boats around the marina. He’d retrieved their diving gear, fueled the tanks, tested the engines, checked the bilge, and cleaned the galley. He was bone-tired, but also worried that Nathan Carter’s boat wouldn’t hold up to the scrutiny of strangers. Not that he cared what Sir Brad or Princess Tristan thought, but there was the matter of upholding SEAL pride.

  Except Carter wasn’t a SEAL anymore, and Steven might never get to be.

  His phone rang. On the other end of the line was Sensei Mike Kahalepuna, calling from Key West.

  “I’ve got good news for you, kid. Black belt test is this Saturday.”

  “This Saturday?” Steven nearly dropped the phone in surprise. “Talk about short notice.”

  “You can’t do it?”

  “Of course we can,” Steven said. They’d been asking Mike for their test since the spring. “We’ve got a charter that ends Friday and then we’ll drive right down.”

  “Charter, huh? You’re in business for yourself now?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Be sure you get plenty of sleep, drink lots of water, and be at the studio at oh-seven-hundred. The test will take all day. I’ve got a special surprise, too, and I think you’ll be happy about it.”

  After Steven hung up, he text-messaged the news to Denny’s new phone. He’d just pressed Send when he saw Jennifer O’Malley st
anding on the dock, wearing a white dress and high-heeled shoes.

  “Jen,” he said, surprised.

  “I came to say hi,” she said casually. “Heard you had an adventure this morning. You’re okay?”

  “Yeah, fine,” Steven said.

  She tilted her head. “Do I have to ask permission to come aboard?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Steven held out his hand and helped her across the short gangplank. She smelled very nice, like lilacs. The scent reminded him of bedsheets and her lace underwear and the last time they’d been together, with sun pouring through the windows and her favorite British singer crooning love songs on the computer.

  “Your own yacht,” Jen said, standing very close to him on the deck. “I knew you’d have one someday.”

  “This one’s just borrowed.” He stepped back an inch or two. “You want something to drink?”

  “I’ll pass,” she replied. “I’m supposed to be on my way to Islamorada to meet Cole for dinner. You remember him?”

  “Is he still a jerk?” The last time Steven and Cole had met, Steven had nearly decked the guy. Rich know-it-alls from Miami always rubbed him the wrong way.

  Jen smiled faintly. “Don’t be jealous. Do you know how much groveling I had to do to get Kelsey to forgive me? She called me every terrible name she could think of, and a few I’ve never heard before. And I’ve heard of a lot.”

  “Sorry,” Steven said.

  “For sleeping with me?”

  “For…” He stopped to think about it. “Well, no. For not being up front with her. I didn’t think we were exclusive or anything.”

  Which was kind of not true, but also not entirely false. Steven didn’t like to think too much about it, though. He knew he’d hurt Kelsey and that left him feeling guilty. Everything felt all mixed up, and that was why he was on a vacation from girls. No Kelsey, no Jen, no Melissa Hardy with her double scoops of ice cream at the Dreamette.

  “Kelsey’s always going to want monogamy,” Jen said. “She’s hardwired that way. But you and I are different. We believe you should enjoy life while you can, right?”