knows I’m on a date today, and she’s sending me the emergency text.”
“The emergency text?”
“You know. ‘Annalise, come quick, John’s been in a car accident and he’s in the hospital.’ Hang on, let me answer this.”
“Who’s John?” Curt asked, mystified. “Do you need to go?”
“No, no,” Annalise said. “There is no John. You don’t know about this?”
“I don’t think I do.”
“It’s in case I got here and found you creepy or unpleasant and needed an excuse to leave,” Annalise said.
“I see,” Curt said. “But you’re not going to take it?”
“You don’t seem creepy so far.”
“Will you find it creepy if I invite you for a ride on my yacht?”
Annalise laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Gull’s is nice, but my real favorite restaurant is offshore, on Catalina Island. That’s where I’d like to take you.”
Annalise hesitated. It was a little nerve-wracking to think of boarding a boat and going offshore with a man she’d just met, even if he was Curt Slade.
“Mind if I just tell my sister where we’re going?” she asked. “We like to keep track of each other. We’re very close.”
“Of course,” Curt said.
Annalise fired off a quick text, then returned her phone to her purse, determined not to spend any more time on it today.
“Okay,” she said, feeling as if she’d stepped into a surreal world. “Catalina it is.”
They ate the last few bites of calamari and got to their feet. Curt led the way through the restaurant’s entrance and down into the marina itself, where boats docked.
“Does your boat live here full-time?” Annalise asked, looking around at the many impressive yachts.
“No,” Curt said. “I actually came here by boat today, hoping that you would be willing to go out to Catalina with me. Most of the time, my yacht is anchored nearer to my home.”
“I see.” Annalise had several questions, but she decided to hold off for now.
They had just met each other, after all. It wasn’t the right time to start interrogating him about yacht ownership.
They reached the end of the pier.
“Here we are,” Curt said, pointing out a large vessel. It was two stories high, with dark windows and lounge chairs on the two back decks.
“Wow,” Annalise breathed.
He took her hand and helped her aboard, then untied the yacht and jumped aboard himself. “Have you ever been on one of these?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “The fanciest thing I’ve been on is a catamaran, for a fishing trip with my sister and her husband.”
“Well, this will give you a smoother ride,” Curt said. “I assume you don’t get seasick, if you were on a catamaran?”
“I never have,” Annalise said.
“Good,” Curt said. “But let me know if you start to feel uncomfortable.”
The yacht pulled slowly away from the dock.
“How far is it to Catalina?” Annalise asked.
“Not far,” Curt assured her. “Just about an hour. Have you been there before?”
“Never.”
“Then I’m glad we’re going,” Curt said. “It’s a really beautiful place. Every Californian needs to go at least once.”
They’d gotten a bit farther away from the dock now, and the speed cranked up as they hit open water. He was right—it really was a very smooth ride.
“So,” he said, “you teach sixth grade. What’s that like?”
She shook her head. “Boring, compared to your job.”
“No it isn’t,” Curt said. “I already know all about what I do every day. I want to learn more about you. Come on. Why did you choose sixth grade?”
“Well, I didn’t, exactly,” she said. “I went to school for all the lower grades, so I’m certified to teach anything from first to sixth.”
“Was sixth your first choice?”
“When I was starting out, I thought third was my first choice,” she said. “But I came to realize that that was because I had such a great third-grade teacher myself. Any grade can be awesome with the right teacher. And I really love sixth-graders. They’re at such a great age. They’re smart enough to be really creative and insightful, but not quite old enough to think all adults are stupid and worthless.”
Curt laughed. “That does sound pretty perfect,” he admitted.
“But I like kids of all ages,” Annalise said. “I would have been happy with any grade, really.”
“It sounds like you’re doing what you love,” Curt said. “That’s great.”
“What about you?” Annalise asked. “Are you doing what you love?”
“I’m like you,” Curt said. “It wasn’t what I imagined when I started out.”
“What did you imagine?”
“When I started acting, I thought I would do a lot of indie films and serious dramas,” he said. “When I was younger, I