Day 10
I wake up before Sabrina on our last morning, enjoying the weight of her head on my chest and her silky leg draped over mine. I lie there, utterly content, running my fingers through her hair and watching her sleep as the sun slowly fills the room. A while later, she yawns and stretches all the way to her toes. She looks up at me.
“Morning,” she murmurs, licking the dryness from the lips.
“Last chance. We could call Dean and tell him we’re staying forever.”
“Tempting.”
Then both our phones start buzzing with the alert that we’ve got two hours before we need to be at the airport.
“You can have the shower first,” I tell Sabrina, kissing her forehead. “I’ll make us something to eat. Hopefully Isa dropped off more of those croissants.”
“Love you.” She slides out of bed naked, letting me watch her saunter off to the bathroom. As long as I live, I’ll never tire of that view.
As it turns out, hitting rock bottom on the sticky bench of a Caribbean jail cell was the cure to our honeymoon ails. Since Sabrina sprang me from the joint, there haven’t been any stray jellyfish or irate shopkeepers. No coconut assaults or red, splotchy skin. Just clear skies and blue waters and lots of sunscreen. Finally, the vacation we’d been looking for…so of course, it’s over too soon and it’s time to pack out of here.
As we’re getting our bags gathered by the door, our neighbors stop by to say their goodbyes. Kevin and I shake hands, while Bruce and I have a less formal exchange of back slaps and a side hug. I’m going to miss these guys. The four of us became fast friends this week, and yesterday we spent our last afternoon getting drunk and eating fresh oysters on their yacht.
“We wanted to see you off with a little something,” Bruce says, handing Sabrina a bottle of the wine she’d loved from dinner that first night. “And, if you have a minute, talk a little business?”
Sabrina and I look at each other, confused.
“I thought about our conversation the other night,” Kevin tells Sabrina as we invite them in. “I hope you won’t mind, but I did a bit of checking up on you.”
“Checking up?”
“Your Harvard transcripts. Spoke with your professors. Who had a lot to say, in fact. A complete background check, of course. We’re very thorough.”
I’m trying not to laugh. “And that’s considered a ‘bit’ of checking up?”
“I don’t understand.” Sabrina’s voice stiffens. “Who’s we?”
“I talked it over with the partners at the firm, and we’d like you to come work with us.”
Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry—what?”
“We’d like you to come work for Ellison and Kahn, my firm in Manhattan.”
“You’re offering me a job?” It’s rare to catch Sabrina James off guard, but right now she looks like she’s struggling to formulate thoughts.
Like me, Kevin is smiling at her shocked expression. “There’s a spot available on my team. Representing wrongful convictions. It’s challenging work, and not for the faint-hearted. But the hours are manageable, and you’d have some schedule flexibility. If you’re up to it. “
“I…”
I’m not sure the last time I saw Sabrina speechless.
“That’s a generous offer,” I speak up while she finds her voice.
“There is, of course, one catch,” Kevin adds. “You would have to come to New York.”
Now we’re both caught off guard. I’d heard the part where he said his firm was in Manhattan, but for some stupid reason I didn’t connect those dots.
Sabrina searches me for a response. Leaving Boston was never something we’d even discussed. But I know it had to be in the back of her mind. The best law firms in the world are in New York and LA, and that means there was only so far she could reach, ambition-wise, as long as she stayed in town. This would open a slew of new possibilities.
“Before you answer,” Bruce pipes up, “there is one more thing. I’m looking to expand my fitness brand into brick-and-mortar. Give my online regimen a physical presence.”
“Gyms?” I guess, all the while wondering how Sabrina and I possibly fit into this.
He nods. “One, to start. Prime real estate in Manhattan. All I need is a partner with a modest investment but who understands how to get a small business off the ground, market it, and make it profitable. Then, hopefully, a nationwide franchise.” He grins widely. “From what I’ve seen, you’d make a hell of a chief operating officer.”
“You can’t be serious. Just like that?” I can’t help but laugh, scratching at the back of my head to make sure I didn’t take one of those coconuts and don’t remember.
“I’m not much for business,” Bruce says, shrugging. “But I know people. I like you, John Tucker. I think the two of us might do good stuff together. If you’re up for the challenge.”
“Wow. This is a lot to think about,” Sabrina tells them, looking as dazed as I feel.
“Sorry to blindside you both, but we couldn’t let you leave without catching you,” Kevin explains.
“Thank you. Really,” I insist. “We can’t tell you how much we appreciate this.”
“Can we take some time?” Sabrina asks. “We have to consider Jamie. And the bar.”
“Of course.” Kevin offers his hand. “Talk it over. You have our numbers.”
We thank them again, then nearly collapse from the news the moment they’re gone.
“Is this seriously happening?” Sabrina stares at me, eyes sparkling. It’s maybe the happiest I’ve seen her since we left Boston.
I start laughing again, marveling at this curveball. Two curveballs, to be exact. “I guess we were due some good luck on this damn island.”
In the taxi on the way to the marina, we attempt to hash out how viable this plan might be.
“My mom would go anywhere to follow her granddaughter,” I assure Sabrina when she worries about letting strangers babysit Jamie. Mom moved to Boston from Texas to be closer to us. No reason she wouldn’t go to New York.
“And Kevin said the hours were manageable. Flexible.” There’s an excited chord in Sabrina’s voice. “So we might not even need that much babysitting. I’d be able to see you guys a lot more than if I took one of the Boston jobs.”
“And I wouldn’t have to spend any evenings at the bar. I assume the gig with Bruce would be a daytime one.”
“Wait. But Jamie starts preschool in the fall. You think getting her placed in Boston was tough, you have any idea how hard it will be in Manhattan?”
“Dean and Allie are there,” I remind her. “I’d bet his family is giving money to someone, some board member, who owes them a favor. If not, we’ll make it work. It’s a big city.”
“And we’d already have friends there,” she adds, chewing on her bottom lip. “So it’s not like we’d be totally alone.”
“It’s maybe not a terrible idea.”
“Granted, those same friends tried to ruin our honeymoon with Alexander, so really, we should be discussing cutting them out of our lives, not bringing them closer into the fold.”
My expression darkens. “I don’t like knowing he’s in there,” I say, nodding toward my carry-on.
“Maybe airport security will think we’re smuggling drugs inside his creepy head and confiscate him.”
I snicker at her hopeful face. “Babe, if they decide we’re drug mules, we’ll have bigger problems to deal with than a haunted doll. Don’t worry, though. We’ll ship him off the moment we get home.”
“It better be Dean.”
“Nah. They’ll expect it.” I pause. “Wasn’t it Garrett who left him under my pillow when they came over last Thanksgiving?”
Indignation burns in her eyes. “Jamie woke up when she heard me scream, and we couldn’t get her back to sleep for hours.”
I nod. “G.”
She nods back. “I concur. I mean, he and Hannah are over there living their best lives. We can’t allow that.”
“Someone needs to knock ’em down a peg.”
“Exactly.”
Grinning, I sling an arm around my partner in crime. “Now, back to the topic at hand. Do we want to move to New York?”
“Ugh. I don’t know, Tuck.”
We’re still talking it out as we board the boat to St. Maarten, until eventually Sabrina holds up a hand and says, “I vote we hold off on a decision until we’re back in Boston. Let the idea sit for a while. But…man, it sure is tempting.”
“Damn tempting,” I agree. “But you’re right, let’s put a pin in it.”
Right now, all I want to do is get home and see our baby girl.
