Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

He reached over, tapped her hand, getting her attention. “You were saying? About your trip, why you picked Greece?”

She seemed startled by his touch, but smiled. “Sorry. I don’t know where the time went. The trip . . . I spent my junior year abroad. One of the other students’ father heads up the Fourni Underwater Archeological Preservation Society, a nonprofit that’s working to preserve some of the ancient shipwrecks from looting. He invited me for a summer sabbatical. I couldn’t pass up the invite and have a few weeks of vacation coming. Couldn’t think of a better thing to do. Especially with this awful job I have.”

“So you do have a background in . . .”

“Oh, no. The only thing I know about underwater archeological sites is from school—”

“What’d you major in?”

“I have a master’s in history and anthropology, with a focus on ancient trade routes. And,” she said with a beaming smile, “you’re looking at a newly certified scuba diver—as of yesterday.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I figured it’s all good training for when I get back here to search for my Spanish galleon.”

“So how long will you be in Fourni?”

“Three weeks. Then it’s back here, same old, same old. Until, well—” She looked up as the lights flickered on overhead, warning them that time was up. They were the only two left in the bar.

“Here’s to a successful trip.” The two had switched to water long before that, and he lifted his half-empty glass. They touched rims once again, drained their glasses, then stood. “Walk you to your car?” he said.

“I’d appreciate that.”

They walked out into a nearly deserted parking lot, theirs the only two cars remaining. His, a well-used red Jeep Wrangler with a patina of California sun, bleached and sandblasted, and oversized off-road tires complemented her shiny red Porsche 911 GT3. As they neared, she took out her key fob, unlocking it. Trying to ignore Blake’s earlier comments, Sam reached over, opening her door, and said, “I’ll see you soon.”

She tossed her purse onto the front passenger seat, then turned back to him. “You sound pretty sure of yourself. Exactly how will you find me?”

“Do you know anything about constellations?”

Her smile dazzled him. “A bit.”

“That star there.” He pointed into the black sky. “The one at the end of the Little Dipper.”

“The North Star?”

“You find that, you’ll find anything.” He stared up at it a moment, then looked over at her. “It’ll always lead me to you.”

“What if we’re in the southern hemisphere, where we can’t see Polaris?”

He laughed, telling himself he shouldn’t be surprised that she knew the actual name of the star. He leaned down, kissing her before he lost his nerve. “Just in case, a phone number works.” He stepped back, giving her plenty of space, the cool night air rushing between them.

The next thing Sam knew, Remi was reaching back in her car for her purse, then pulling out a pen. She found a receipt from the grocery store in one of the pockets and jotted down her number. “You’re definitely a bad influence on me,” she said, handing him the slip of paper. “I’m giving a man I just met—at a bar, no less—my phone number.”

She slid into the driver’s seat, looking up at him. “I did have an enjoyable evening. Certainly better than dinner with the girls.”

“Let’s do it again. Tomorrow night. Not the same thing. Something different, but tomorrow night.”

“You realize it’s already tomorrow?”

“You know what I mean. Oh, wait a minute.” Sam fumbled in his pocket as Remi watched with a small smile on her face. Obviously, she was doing something out of character. But, obviously, he looked a little like a fish out of water, too.

“Here, the card is old, but the cell phone number is still mine. I’ll call you in the morning.”

He closed the door. She started the car, backing up from the space. She started to pull forward, but then the pavement lit up from the glow of her brake lights as she stopped, rolled down her window, and looked back at him. The corner of her eyes crinkled as she laughed. “I accept. Looking forward to today’s tomorrow night!”

CHAPTER FOUR

It seemed Remi had only just fallen asleep when her alarm went off, the vibration so loud her teeth felt like they would crack. Wait. Not her alarm. She didn’t have to go to work. Finally, Remi’s hand reached her cell phone on the nightstand. “What?”

“Good morning.”

The voice was far too cheery for this early hour. “Who is this?”

“Guess I didn’t leave the impression I had hoped for last night.”

“Who is this? Sam?” Remi sat bolt upright. “Sam.” She took a deep breath. This was not how it was supposed to go.

“I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

“What time is it?” She pulled her phone from her ear, trying to read the time through sleep-blurred eyes.

“It’s just after seven. But I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Now?”

“No time like the present. You said you were leaving in two weeks and planning to dive on wrecks in Greece. Do you have your wreck diving certification?”

“Noooo?”

“That’s what I thought. Do you have your own dive gear?”

“No.”

“We’ll have to remedy that. How do you take your coffee?”

“I take my coffee from the kitchen.”

“I’ll be over in an hour. We can talk about everything then. I just need your address.”

Before she could stop herself, Sam had her address and the line was dead.

An hour later Sam was at the door with two steaming coffees and the most beautiful warm croissants Remi had ever eaten. There she was sitting in her kitchen, watching Sam as he talked about her Spanish galleon and friends he had who could help her with her research. Then there were certificates for wreck diving, deep diving, and drift diving, and something about kelp. And the next thing she knew they were going to see a friend of his that worked in a dive shop in Santa Ana, a Clive something or other. He was going to get her a really good deal on dive equipment. On the way out the door, all Remi could think about was one big question, is this a first date?

In the afternoon, they drove to Newport Beach, had lunch at the Crab Cooker, walked the beach, took the ferry to Balboa Island, and as the sun set, Remi found herself at the smallest, most charming French restaurant, where everyone knew everyone’s name, even Sam’s.

So, maybe it was a first date. But the next morning there was no alarm ringing at seven. As a matter of fact, the whole morning was deadly silent. And when the phone finally rang late that afternoon, she was so angry with herself for waiting for the phone to actually ring that she almost didn’t answer it. After all, she was an independent woman. That thought fled the moment Sam said hello, and she found herself smiling. Of course, dinner would be great and maybe a movie.

They chose the Lighthouse again and there was so much to talk about, the movie never happened. The idea of kelp diving off the island of Catalina fascinated Remi, and Sam was going to arrange for her to get her wreck diving certification. Sam knew someone for everything. Plans were made, and the next day bags were packed, more bags than Sam ever thought necessary.

The ferry ride over was the beginning of amazing.

Meeting them at the dock was Steve Drake, a retired Navy SEAL who ran a charter boat and dive shop. He also happened to be a dive instructor. They stayed with Steve and his wife, Kate, who ran the best bed-and-breakfast on the island.

The next morning Steve, Kate, Sam, and Remi headed out to the kelp fields. The moment they entered the water, Remi found herself enveloped in a world of muted greens and blues below. Above, the afternoon sun lit up the surface, giving an iridescent glow to the ocher-colored leaves and thick stems of the undulating kelp bed. A school of small fish suddenly turned tail, darting away in a flash of silver. Sam began swimming in and out of the kelp. Remi was fascinated as the long ribbons danced in the water. Slowly, she began to turn and twist among the giant kelp, when a dark shadow suddenly stole the sun from her and the water turned. Catching the long dorsal fin from the corner of her eye, she glanced up, startled, certain it was a shark—then breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the massive sunfish as it slowly turned and faded away.