I notice the man behind her for the first time. He’s about her age with a sizeable bald spot—probably her husband, if their matching rings and the utterly defeated look in his eyes are any indication. He sidles up next to her with his finger in the air. “Donna, dear, are you sure they don’t fit? Did you—”

“Yes, I’m sure. Why don’t you try on your wet suit, Charles.”

Charles nods mutely and shuffles away. Clearly, he’s been worn down after decades with this woman.

Xiavera picks one of the fins Donna dropped and squints at the number printed on the inside. “These are size eight, like you requested.”

The woman, who is wearing a long white bathing suit cover-up, puffs until she resembles an angry cotton ball.

I step forward with a friendly smile. “Hi there.” After working retail all through college, my customer service facade slips easily into place. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You know, I read somewhere that fins don’t necessarily go by the same sizing as regular shoes. So even though you normally wear an eight, you might be more comfortable sizing up to a nine.”

The woman lets out a frosty bark of laughter. “My feet are not a size nine. They have never been a nine, and they never will.” She looks me up and down. “You’re the one who works for Seaquest’s corporate office, right? What’s your name again—Hester? Tell me, Hester, why is it so difficult for your staff to give me what I’ve asked for? Or maybe I should find out who your manager is, and ask him instead.”

Graeme is beside me before I can work up an answer through my stuttering shock.

“Donna, nice to see you. Graeme. We met yesterday on the aft deck.” He takes her manicured hand in both of his and graces her with a smile that could melt even the strongest of chastity belts.

The change that overtakes Donna is stark and immediate. Her mouth loses its pinched look, her forehead unfurrows, and a glowing smile spreads across her face like an angel has graced her with its presence. “Graeme, yes. Good to see you. Maybe you can help me. These people are insisting that I don’t know my own shoe size.”

“How about this: I’ll get you a few different fins to try on and you can see what works. Some are probably more broken in than others and might fit differently. Size eight, right?”

“Yes. Finally, someone who understands what I need.”

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable on that bench over there and I’ll bring them over.”

She pats his shoulder before walking away. As soon as she’s out of earshot, the smile fades from his lips and he leans across the table to Xiavera.