Page 21 of Walking on Broken Paths

Chapter Sixteen

On Sunday afternoon, Parker sat in Coffee Beans and Things, a cooling cup of coffee at his elbow.

He’d chosen a table next to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Victoria Row, and his gaze kept getting pulled outside.

Victoria Row was busy on this first Sunday in July, Charlottetown packed to capacity with tourists, and a little down the way, a band serenaded passersby with bluesy jazz.

Willis Dinner Cruises had been sold out the past two nights.

Parker expected that to be the norm as the summer plugged onward.

At least, he hoped it would be, last summer’s bad reviews notwithstanding.

The vendors who’d worked with Dad for years were giving Parker a lot of leeway, and while that was great, Parker still had to pay his staff and crew.

The slush fund Dad had set aside years ago for emergency boat repairs was slowly being depleted because every time Parker turned around, something needed to be paid.

His website host, his website guy, advertising fees, equipment and parts replacement.

Plus, there’d been uniforms to order for the seasonal staff, and the insurance on the ship was coming due.

While he’d been in Toronto, he’d received four copywriting requests from the agency. While that was good for his bank account, the thought of having to write those fundraising letters left him wanting to chuck his laptop into the Northumberland Strait.

And then piling bricks on top of it for good measure, in case the water didn’t manage to kill it.

What he wanted more than anything, right in this moment, was to sit outside at one of the coffee shop’s patio tables and finish the introduction to his book.

Now that he had Ashton Yager on board, he was more eager than ever to truly get the book going.

Of course, the patio tables had been occupied when he’d arrived—that was what he got on a weekend—and not a single one had opened since, so he was stuck inside where the AC was peppering his arms with goosebumps.

And before he did any typing on his book, he had to get the real work done—the stuff that paid the bills.

Toronto had been like a pocket out of reality.

A bubble of time where debts and jobs and overthinking about what to do with Dad’s house didn’t exist. Now here he was once again, all of his troubles squarely on his shoulders.

Going from one to the other was a bit like being smacked in the face with a tennis ball.

Agata appeared and slid a plate onto the table. “Orange scone with orange glaze. You look like you could use it.”

Parker peered up at her quizzically. “Do you ever go home? You’re always here.”

“So are you.”

Well, that was true. “Good point.”

“How was Toronto?” she asked, though in her cute island accent—which Parker noticed more after having lived away for years—it sounded more like Toronnah.

“It was...”

Unexpectedly steamy. Less the hot-and-muggy kind, more the hot-and-bothered kind.

“Good,” he settled on, suddenly warm despite the AC. “Humid. Busy. People everywhere.”

“Sounds... fun?”

He gave a short laugh. “It was fun, honestly. And it was nice to meet Jesse’s friends.” Jealousy aside, it had been nice. Gavin and Trev were solid people.

“When do I get to meet this Jesse you’re always talking about?”

“Um, excuse me. Always ?”

Agata nodded once. “Always.”

Surely that couldn’t be true.

A group of women having what sounded like three different conversations entered the coffee shop, setting the bell on the door jingling and saving Parker from having to answer.

“Duty calls,” Agata said.

“What do I owe you for the scone?” Parker called to her retreating back.

She waved a hand over her shoulder, which Parker interpreted as on the house .

He ate the scone—the tartness of the glaze was almost too delicious for words—then packed his laptop into his messenger bag and headed out.

The sun was warm on his skin, and he breathed in a lungful of salty air.

He paused to listen to the band for a few minutes, just for an excuse not to be anywhere, then turned onto Great George Street, passing the tall spires of St. Dunstan’s Basilica.

Great George Street was quiet compared to the pedestrian-only Victoria Row, the street lined with two- and three-storey homes, apartments, and even a housing co-op.

Without conscious thought, he ended up on the Willis Dinner Cruises yacht in Peakes Quay.

The next cruise wasn’t for another few days, so there weren’t any customers or staff around.

Just himself and his laptop on the bow of the ship.

He had a couple of hours before he needed to get ready for his date with Jesse, and he was reading over the details of the second copywriting assignment when a voice called “Ahoy, matey” in a pirate voice that was so cliché Parker would’ve laughed if it was anyone other than Joel Penny.

“Permission to come aboard?” Joel called, shading his eyes with one hand as he looked up at Parker, even though he was wearing sunglasses.

Parker hesitated for so long that it bordered on rude—he wasn’t in the mood to be hit on or talked to about why he should sell Joel his ship. Finally, he nodded, though he hoped it didn’t look as reluctant as he felt. “Permission granted.”

Joel joined him a moment later. Parker had brought up two folding chairs from storage, one for his ass and one for his feet so he could balance his laptop on his thighs, and he pushed one of those chairs toward Joel now.

“Thanks,” Joel said.

He looked a little sweaty in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. The outfit didn’t exactly scream summer , but the day had started out at only sixteen degrees Celsius before it had warmed to the low twenties.

“How was your trip?” Joel asked, leaning forward and planting his elbows on his knees. “Toronto, right?”

Parker cocked his head. “How did you know?”

“Ran into Matilda a few days ago. She mentioned it. Did you have a good time?”

“It was muggy and overpopulated.”

Tipping his head back, Joel laughed like Parker was a comedian. “You’re not wrong. Don’t judge me, but I miss it sometimes.”

“Why?”

Joel shrugged. “For those new to the city, it’s an adjustment and probably an acquired taste. For those of us who grew up there... it’s home.”

“Fair enough,” Parker said, softening toward Joel for the first time since he’d met the man. “Home isn’t always easy to leave behind. Are you going back for a visit anytime soon?”

“In August. My kid sister’s getting married. Which is why I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Parker said, curious despite himself.

“I’ll be gone about a week. There are some pre-wedding events my sister asked me to come home for, and then I’m sticking around for a couple of days afterwards to visit my parents.

Which means I’ll miss a week of dinner cruises, so I was wondering.

.. Would you be able to pilot my ship while I’m away? ”

Parker opened his mouth to respond and closed it again just as quickly.

Because he wasn’t certain he’d heard right.

“My first officer was supposed to cover for me, but he just got a job opportunity to captain a private superyacht in the Mediterranean, so...” Joel spread his hands, all what can you do ?

“He flies out next week, leaving me shorthanded during the busiest two months of the year, and I don’t like my odds of finding a replacement on such short notice.

I figured since you were recently out of town and yet your cruise still ran, you probably have a backup captain if you’re unavailable.

And I thought... maybe you could be mine? ”

Parker did have a backup. Several, in fact. He’d grown up here, had watched his father do business since he could walk. Matilda was officially his first officer, but his father’s friends were always willing to lend a hand if he needed them.

Joel didn’t have that support system. He was from away.

“I’d pay you, of course.”

Parker almost told him he didn’t need his money. Except he kind of did, so he kept his mouth shut. “I might be able to find you a replacement first officer.”

Joel shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head, and his expression of hope was almost too much. “Really?”

“I can’t promise anything,” Parker added. “But my dad has a bunch of friends who are retired and whose wives are just about ready to murder them in their sleep if they don’t find a hobby. They’ve all got boating experience, so let me tap on some shoulders. See what I find out.”

Joel let out a whoosh of air. “Thank you. Really.”

“I have to warn you, though, they’re all old-fashioned, old-timey guys who will talk your ear off about how you’re doing everything wrong, but they’ll be on time, and they’ll do the work without complaint.”

“I can live with that,” Joel said, chuckling. “Let’s swap numbers. That way you can keep me updated and pass on any information about potential candidates.”

Parker grunted, halfway amused. “This was just your way of finally getting my number, wasn’t it?”

Joel’s grin was sly. “It’s a nice side benny. Don’t suppose you’re free for a drink later?”

Sighing, Parker plugged in Joel’s digits when he rattled them off. There Joel went again, almost like clockwork, asking Parker out. At least he was always nice about it, and he always backed off when Parker declined. “I’m seeing someone, Joel.”

Disappointment crossed Joel’s face for a brief second before he smoothed it into a neutral expression.

“Ah, well. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.

If it doesn’t work out, though, you know where to find me.

” Joel jerked a thumb to the side, where the Island Dinner and Sightseeing Cruises ship was moored.

Parker couldn’t help but laugh.

“If I can borrow another few minutes of your time,” Joel said, “can I talk to you about why you should sell me your yacht?”

Amusement fled. “Joel?—”