Radclyffe - Wild Shores

“Woman with hidden depths? Dark passions? Secret desires?” Emily lowered her voice and drew out the words as if she was introducing an X-rated movie.

“You’re really going to make me suffer, aren’t you?”

“Damn straight. I don’t get to hear very many interesting sex stories. All my friends are married and have been for so long that it’s babies and diapers and bills. So spill.”

Gem blew on her soup and took a cautious sip. It was too salty, too chickeny, and tasted delicious. She realized she hadn’t had anything to eat since the muffin about ten years ago, which might explain part of the appeal. And she really couldn’t stall any longer. “We met at the airport and ended up sharing a ride out here. She’s the one I told you about.”

Emily made a come-along gesture with her hand. “And?”

“And, well, we really connected, and then last night we—”

Emily’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? You slept with her and you didn’t even mention her when I was asking you what’s new? Like, you know, anything exciting happening in your life such as you met this really hot woman and just happened to fall into bed with her, like, a few hours before?”

“Because it sounds crazy,” Gem said, protesting. “It sounds crazy when you say it, and it would’ve sounded crazier when I said it. I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Well, apparently you do. More than once.”

“How did you know—”

“Are you telling me…” Emily slapped her forehead. “Oh my God. You are in trouble now. Really? Today?”

Gem covered her face with her hands. “I’m not talking about this.”

“You so are. So who seduced who?”

“There wasn’t any seduction.”

Emily’s eyebrows rose. “Really? How does that work, then? I mean, do you just have a conversation where you discuss the possibility of having sex and come to some kind of decision as to who should take their clothes off first—”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just that it wasn’t like that.” Gem pushed a hand through her hair. “It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced. It was just…meant to be, I guess.”

“Oh,” Emily said softly. “That’s just…kind of incredible. Good for you.”

The tension ebbed from Gem’s shoulders. “You think? I mean, you don’t think I’m crazy?”

Emily guffawed. “Are you kidding me? Of course not. The last time I looked, you were well over twenty-one. And if you met somebody you really connect with and she’s hot—and boy, she really is hot—then why not?”

“I do sort of have a girlfriend.”

“I never got the impression you two had made any long-term plans. Am I wrong on that?”

Gem shook her head. “No, we never have. We’ve just kind of gone along. We’ve never talked about living together or making anything more formal. And if it did come up, I would’ve said no. I think she would have too.”

“If you didn’t make any plans or promises about monogamy and such, I’m not even sure it’s something you have to tell her. Except if it changes things.”

Gem drank some more of her soup. “Oh, it changes things. It changed me.”

“Are you going to see Austin again?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t make any specific plans. It’s almost as if we’re both waiting.”

“For what?”

Gem sighed. “I don’t know.”

❖

“You fucking waited long enough to call,” Tatum snarled over the shortwave when Austin finally reached him. “It’s fucking soup out here. How do you expect the bird to fly in this?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Austin said. “The weather moved in faster than I expected. I can stay here tonight, and we can try again—”

“Hell no. We want you out here to take the heat with us. I’ve got a bird on its way right now. Fortunately for you, it’s a short trip, but I’d put on a life jacket when you climb aboard.”

“I’m really sorry, Ray, I—”

“Forget it. It’s good practice for these boys. They sit on their asses most of the time drinking coffee and reading girly magazines. Even the girls.”

Austin laughed. “Sure and why not. I’ll check in with you, soon as I arrive.”

“You do that.”

The bird arrived ten minutes later. She climbed aboard and took the seat opposite the pilot. When she pulled on her headgear and connected her mic, she said, “I’m Austin. Sorry to drag you out in this.”

“Benny,” the pilot, a woman Austin didn’t know, said with a shrug as she lifted off. “No problem. I could find my way back to the rig with my eyes closed.”

“Well, thanks for the lift, Benny.”

“Happy to oblige. I’d read all the skin mags anyhow.”

Austin grinned. Ray Tatum knew how to hold a crew together, and they’d need that glue before this was all over.

Benny was a fast, accomplished pilot and she set the bird down without a single bump thirty minutes later. The landing lights on the helipad were barely visible through the heavy fog, but the red beacon on the central tower shone above the layer of mist like a blinking red eye. As the rotor slowed, Austin jumped out and jogged across the platform to the command trailer. The air temperature had dropped twenty degrees, but it was still unseasonably warm outside. She shed her jacket as she walked in and dropped it over the back of a chair.

Tatum, Reddy, and Claudia stood in front of the largest satellite monitor, studying the patches of green and black swirling across the screen.

“How does it look?” Austin said.

“The front’s coalescing,” Claudia said, glancing over her shoulder at Austin with a worried frown. “This isn’t going to be a tropical storm. It’s going to come ashore a hurricane, category two, at least.”

“Well, fuck me,” Tatum said.

“I’ll second that,” Austin muttered. “What’s the situation with the well?”

Reddy shot her a dark look. “We’re still leaking. Slow, but we can’t stop it. We’re containing it, but just barely.”

“And if the rig starts rocking in the storm? What’s your best guess then?”

“We’ll double our rate of loss, best case.”

Austin glanced at Ray. “Ray? You agree?”

“Fuck me,” he repeated. “We can’t be sure of that, but it’s a possibility.”

“Right then.” Austin punched in Eloise’s number.

“Tell me something I want to hear,” Eloise said.

“I take it you’ve seen the weather reports?”

“I’m getting the same information from Dr. Spencer that you are, along with updates from a dozen other meteorologists sitting in stations up and down the coast.”

“Then you know we’re going to get hit hard.”

“The rig is built to take it. What’s the situation with the leak?”

“Still slow, but not slowing,” Austin said. “In my opinion, the risk of an uncontained spill warrants preventative measures now. We should alert Fish and Wildlife so we can begin containment procedures. We want to get out in front of this on the record before we bring in the booms.”

“Can’t you buy us any more time? We can start drilling secondaries—”

“No, not with the storm headed our way. Everything is going to slow down—roads will close, flights will be canceled. People and equipment are going to have difficulty even getting here, which means everyone is going to be short staffed. Multiply our usual response time by three, and we’ll be lucky to have enough manpower and equipment to protect the shore if we do have a spill. If we don’t move now, we’re going to look negligent.”

The silence over the line spoke volumes as to how much Eloise did not like that word. Austin had used it intentionally to underscore the gravity of the situation. She needed Eloise to pull the trigger on going public.