“So first we have to be on the fish,” I start, my thumb tracing the fancy emblem on the dashboard. “That means we locate a school in the water. Then we drop the nets and circle the school. When the fish are surrounded, we cinch up the bottom and the fish are trapped inside. Basic concept, but there’s a ton to do besides that. When we aren’t actually fishing, someone has to check the float line and floats, the lead lines, make sure there aren’t any holes in the nets, as well as the power skiff and all the other electrical and hydraulic equipment. The skiff used to pull the nets up is run on equipment powered by the auxiliary engine. Which is why we have to have both engines in working order and why it’s so devastating when one goes down.” I pause and look at her again, certain she has to have zoned out. She hasn’t. “You’re still listening? That’s a miracle.”

“Well, it’s not like twittering or shuffling papers at NBC,” she teases. “But I am kind of fascinated by what you do all day. Feel free to add the little details, if you want, like how you guys do all of this with your shirts off and the ocean sprays your muscles so you glisten in the sun. Just to help with the visual a little.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I assume your days are pretty long, huh?”

“Start working when it’s light, stop when it’s not. Normally I’m up before the sun, without an alarm, but I swear my internal clock is a mess here. Well,” I say, smiling around my coffee cup, “unless you’re on the porch at dawn to wake me up.”

We go on like that for a while as the beautiful scenery zooms past us, and before I realize it Harlow’s pulled into a parking lot and shut off the engine.

“Well, and look, the sun is here to greet us.”

I look out the windshield and point to the forty-three-foot diesel docked in the harbor. “That the one we’re on today?”

“That’s right, Captain.”

I give her a playfully reprimanding look and then say, “You ready to get schooled, Ginger Snap?”

She laughs and drops her keys into her bag. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got, Sunshine.”

Chapter Eleven

Chapter ELEVEN

Harlow

THE BOAT SEEMS ginormous, but Finn climbs aboard as if he’s stepping onto a dinky rowboat. Is it my imagination, or does he seem taller on deck? I stare at him while he talks to the captain, absently rubbing my finger over my bottom lip, remembering the teasing slide of his teeth when he kissed me at Oliver’s two days ago.