Sailing at Sunset - Cindi Madsen Page 0,1

preferred the tried and true.

While pushing fifty, Vanessa was chic, savvy, and had a better nightlife than Danae ever would. Thanks to a background discovering and promoting beauty bloggers, her jet-black curls and bronze skin were always flawless, although her ideas were occasionally too hip and impractical for their boat-buying audience. “Well, if we don’t change with the trends, we’ll find ourselves behind them. And when it comes to my proposed yacht spa day, manis and pedis are only the tip of the luxurious iceberg.”

“Hmm. When I think of icebergs and ships, I can’t help but think of the Titanic. A good idea in theory, but I’m sure you’ll remember how that turned out.”

Usually their bickering made Danae’s eye twitch—primarily because it drew out meetings for longer than scheduled. But at the present moment, it made it easier for her to disengage from Mark, call forth her confidence, and make the rest of the walk to Mr. Walter Barton’s office.

Danae rapped on the open door and stepped inside. Too bad his floors were carpeted and muffled her formidable footsteps. Mahogany shelves with dozens of awards and framed news articles lined the back wall and matched the desk Mr. Barton sat behind.

He flashed her a smile, his round ruddy cheeks popping out above his wiry gray moustache. With his refined suits and penchant for fedoras, she could just picture him at home in a grand library, smoking a pipe and wearing a monocle. “Right on time, as always.”

“And I always will be,” she said.

As she turned to close the door, she caught sight of Franco, Barton Boats’ web developer, through the open gap. He was just a couple of years older than her, and he was her closest friend at the office. His dark eyebrows arched encouragingly, and he gave her a big thumbs-up. The cardboard cup and the bag in his hand made it clear he’d chosen to go for a coffee run at their favorite shop instead of answering her email about how nervous she was, but since he’d managed to make her smile, she supposed she’d forgive him. She had a long history of heartfelt talks and happy dinners with Franco and his delightful husband, Justin, so she’d let him off this time.

As long as one of the pastries in that bag was for her.

The door closed with a snick, and a few more steps took Danae to the edge of Mr. Barton’s desk. A golden frame caught her eye, one she’d never noticed before. “Is that new?”

Thanks to being a pinch nervous and a lot overzealous with her gesture, her trembling hand smacked the picture right off the desk.

“Shoot, I’m so sorry.” Danae scooped it up, now grateful for the soft, forgiving carpeting. She returned the photo to the corner of the desk, plastered her arms to her sides, and prayed her face wasn’t as flushed as it felt.

“Don’t worry about it.” Mr. Barton swiveled the picture his way and fondly studied the image of his younger self and three buddies in dark blue uniforms. “Back in my Navy days.”

Thanks to extensive Googling before her interview, Danae knew Walter had been stationed at the naval base in Connecticut. Once he retired, he returned to Newport, where his family had founded and run Barton Boats since the 1930s.

“There’s nothing like being out in the open water, on the confines of a boat, to get to know people very well in a short amount of time. Lieutenant Jeffers drove me crazy at first.” Mr. Barton tapped the image of the guy to the right of him in the photo. “But having to work so closely with him led me to understand his viewpoint and how to best utilize our strengths and weaknesses. Now he’s one of my oldest friends.”

The way he talked about the lieutenant sent a warm fuzzy sensation through Danae. Surely this was the type of inspirational story that led up to giving her the promotion.

Right?

Deep down, she knew she was the perfect candidate for the Chief Marketing Officer position. While a tad biased on the subject, she worked longer hours, could multitask better than anyone else in the office, and was way more creative than Mark—who most certainly did not use color-coded glitter pens.

“I won’t hold you in suspense any longer,” Mr. Barton said, and Danae held her breath, alternating between visualizing her success and assuring herself she’d be okay either way, even if it would hurt her pride to lose one more thing to Mark.