Bait & Hook

11. Of Passion

I watched Roxy's face come alive when she mentioned her sailing dreams, and I was enchanted by her sparkling eyes while she listed where she had cruised. Not the day-sailor I had thought her to be. Nor had I imagined such aspirations.

Instead of answering, she shrugged and took another bite of the ravioli. A small, delicate bite, her face flushing while she savoured it. Likely cowed by my boat – I should have omitted the size. Just said custom-built.

"You've already finished, Xander. Allow me my last bites, so we can move on to the next course. I'm excited by what's coming. Will it be the scallops or the torchon?"

"I would think the scallops – with their delicacy, they'd have a difficult time following the richness of the foie gras."

"True." She mopped the remaining truffle beurre blanc from her plate with the last bite of ravioli and put it in her mouth, humming a quiet moan as she chewed.

Passionate about food. Passionate about sailing. I wonder. My gaze came to rest on her ample bosom. Her mention of cleavage and the way she displays herself, possibly passionate with sex, as well.

When I felt myself swelling, I diverted my eyes. Too soon for that.

Where do I go now? Ask again about her boat? Maybe not. She had blushed and diverted. No, allow her to move into a more comfortable topic, then ...

I paused my thoughts with the arrival of a busboy, and when our places had been cleared, Roxy said, "She's a Marlow-Hunter 31 with roller-furling jib and main, making solo sailing simple."

"Ooh! Nice boat. Huge interior – as commodious as many traditional forty-footers."

"That's why he chose it as the next step, moving up from our Catilina 27, so we could explore in comfort up the Inside Passage to Alaska, gaining experience. Our long-term plan was to then move up to an offshore cruiser, and we often talked about sailing to Peru and then down through Patagonia."

Then she paused and winced. "Cancer took him far too young."

I nodded, a lump growing in my throat. Not just for her grief, though. Memories of Gillian flooded my mind. Is this ignoring Roxy's loss? Or is it an empathetic reaction? Sharing my pain with her? How do I –

My pondering stopped when Roxy continued, "I was lost for a long time. Finally, I decided to continue the dream and sail north. Juan de Fuca, Barkley Sound, Nootka Sound, the Queen Charlottes, the Inside Passage. See how far I could go on my own."

Yeah, carrying on, as I should have done. "How far did you make it?"

"To the Aleutians and into the Bering Sea, finally stopping at Dutch Harbour."

"Oh, my, my! Extremely aggressive with that boat."

"Folly, actually." She blushed and shrugged. "Water tankage was far too small, and the rain-catchers struggled to keep up with all the fair weather. Always seeking clean streams in the inlets and anchorages. Couldn't do long passages. Logged nearly six thousand nautical miles of inside passages and coast-hopping."

"What a superb adventure. Do you still have her?"

"I do, but not much time to sail, now. Struggling to get my finances in order after being away for more than four months."

Roxy paused as the waiter and sommelier arrived.