Paco looked up, surprised, as I hurried past without a word. Tears of impotent rage streaked my cheeks before I was even halfway back to my cabin. God, why did being angry and embarrassed always make me cry? I flew down the next set of steps and hit a brick wall of a chest.

“Whoa,” the wall rumbled. Evan. I tried to push past but hands gripped my upper arms gently but firmly. “Hey. You all right, love?”

I shook my head. “Let me go, please?”

“What happened?”

“Please, can you drive me back to the train station in the morning? I just quit.”

His eyes bugged out. “You what? What happened?” Then his forehead drew down sharply. “Did something happen? He didn’t …” Evan shook his head like he couldn’t believe the question he was asking. Then the look of utter disbelief warred with a sudden heroic chivalry on his face. “He didn’t like … do anything to you, did he?”

“God, no,” I assured. “No. He implied some things. Accused me of being here to get to him. Using Dauphine to get to him.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Evan shrugged with a small grimace. “It wouldn’t be the first time. You can understand, he’s a bit of a target.”

“Ugh. Why would anyone want to be with that entitled, arrogant ass?” God, his personality had literally just made him the most unattractive man I’d ever come across. “There’s not enough money in the world.” I’d pretty much probably told him that too by quitting.

Evan threw back his head and barked out a laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is. Did you tell him that?”

I folded my arms. “Along those lines. Now, can you get me off this boat or what?”

“Nope.”

“No?” I cried. “I just lost my temper at my boss and quit. I have to leave the building. Like now. You’re security, help me box up my shit and escort me the hell out of here. Now.” Especially as I began to suspect I may have slightly overreacted. “He’d fire me for how I reacted if I hadn’t already quit.”

Evan laughed harder, his face crinkling and his eyes tearing up. “This … this is perfect.”

I stomped my foot. “Okay, move. I need to pack. I’ll find my own way back.”

He moved but didn’t stop laughing.

I glared at him as I passed. “What pray tell is ‘perfect’ about this situation?”

He shook his head. “Nothing you’d understand. Just, uh, I’ll tell Andrea you aren’t eating with Mister P.”

“You do that.” I was really hungry, though. “Any chance of making myself a sandwich or something without getting in the chef’s way?”