Wet: Part 2 by S. Jackson Rivera

stumbled out of the bar, leaving me there to lick my wounded pride.”
    It took all of his restraint not to smile. They heard the approaching plane and watched it land on the dirt strip.
    “Look, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings.” He hoped she wouldn’t catch the mockery in his voice. “But you just made my day.”
    “You really are a son-of-a-bitch.”
    “Yeah, I said, I know.” He winked before he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. He felt almost giddy with joy. “Thank you.”
    She looked up at his smile, hopeful and dazed, as if he’d just professed his undying love.
    “For calling you an SOB?” she asked in a breathless voice.
    “Yep. Thank you. Don’t miss your plane.” He didn’t want to hang around another second, explaining something so important to someone so unimportant to him. He ran back to the taxi.
    “You’re a good-looking SOB!” Nicole called out after him. “I’ll come back next year. Maybe we can hook up then.”
    Paul didn’t bother to respond.

Chapter 7
    M itch and Randy were still out with the divers, and with Rhees diving too, Paul was on his own at the shop and didn’t have a second to breathe. Dobbs and Claire still hadn’t shown up, and Paul knew he’d have to do something about that, but at the moment, he couldn’t take the time to figure out what.
    The office phone rang and he cursed under his breath as Emil, the ferry operations manager, informed Paul he had a package. For important, hard to find in this country items, Paul just asked his buddies in the States to pick them up for him and bring it on their next visit, but if Paul needed something readily available from the mainland, he’d either pick it up himself, send someone he trusted, and occasionally, he could convince the vendor to deliver the package to Emil personally and Emil would bring it across on the ferry—for a price.
    “I don’t need this right now,” Paul grumbled. He said the next sentence in Spanish. “I’ll pick it up later this afternoon.”
    “Not possible, my friend,” Emil answered back in his native tongue. “It’s my wife’s birthday. This is my last run today. Hector is taking over the ferry until tomorrow, so if you want this package, you’ll have to come before we head out in thirty minutes.”
    “Thirty minutes,” Paul grumbled again. He told Emil he’d be there and slammed the phone down on the receiver. He ran out of the office to the end of the deck and looked out over the bay, hoping to see the boat headed back—it should be back any minute. He glanced around to see who’d trickled in. A handful of students were huddled under the gazebo, talking, and obviously absorbed in their conversation. He decided to take his chances and took off toward the ferry at a run.
    To his dismay, he’d not been able to find the ferry manager right away and it had taken him forty-five minutes to get his package, a small envelope filled with new O rings—hardly worth the trouble it’d caused him, he thought. The shop needed to supplement their supply of the emergency item on a regular basis but he wondered why they had to arrive on this day of all days.
    oOo
    Rhees wondered all morning about where their fake relationship stood. The dives relaxed her, but the boat ride and the surface interval were miserable. Dorene and Krista talked endlessly about the previous night, not caring she might hear, but she tried to pretend she didn’t. Mitch and Randy gave her sympathetic glances every now and then, but she couldn’t wait to get back. She needed to talk to Paul, or more, she needed him to talk to her.
    The boat docked, and Rhees jumped off to look for him before putting her gear away but discovered he’d left the shop, though no one knew why or when he’d left. She despaired, worried about Claire and Dobbs, about Paul—it became all she could do to rinse her gear and put it away before she ran back to her apartment. She needed to cry, really cry this