The wind caressed the ship's deck like a lover's gentle hand upon her beloved's skin. The sun was just slipping below the horizon, and the sky celebrated this hour between day and night, painted in peach and blue. The Tuyo lay perfectly poised to witness it, its prow slicing toward the sun as it slowly sank into the sea. It was a glorious evening—the kind one always enjoyed in Clay's company.

Soft music unfurled through the air, a tapestry of bass, saxophone, and guitar. On deck, couples swayed in time while others leaned against the rail, sipping champagne and sharing quiet conversations. Clay, true to form, stood alone, his arm curiously empty—or so everyone thought. He had gone to fetch ice for Julie and treasured the space the errand afforded him. Pausing with the bucket in hand, he watched the ice beads weep their cold droplets under the unforgiving summer heat. He gazed where no one else did—at the harbor's edge: the late-night bars just waking, the shops drawing their shutters, the steady stream of passersby. The scene held a tranquil beauty, as if nothing could ever disturb this human tableau.

Then he heard her: soft, broken sobs drifting across the quay. His eyes swept the length of the pier until he saw her, hurrying with her face buried in her trembling hands. Clay pressed his lips together, glanced back at his friends, still dancing, then fixated on the woman who looked like she was on the verge of collapse.

He could not turn away. Gently pushing aside the small barrier, he set down his bucket and approached, already fishing a handkerchief from his pocket. Good heavens, even through tears she was beautiful. For a moment he remained stunned, loosing his tongue before such raw beauty.

"Excuse me, miss," he began, his voice a soft caress. "You're far too lovely to be crying so hard." He offered a warm smile, nodding toward the Tuyo. "I can't say I know what's troubling you, but I'd be honored to make it fade, even if just a bit. Please, join me for a drink and a bite—it will do you good."

He bowed his head slightly.

"I promise, we don't bite."

He barely recognized his own boldness, surprised by the spontaneity of his act. Yet he could not leave her to her grief. With a courteous gesture, he led her aboard, where a flute of champagne was soon nestled in her hand and a tray of canapés was passed from hand to hand in her direction. She was handed at least four handkerchiefs, and the guests smiled at her with curious kindness. It was rare for Clay to welcome a stranger without introduction, even rarer when it was a woman he didn't previously introduce, and small talk rippled around her. But Clay had already slipped away into the solitude he cherished—until Tobias decided otherwise. He would put an end to his friend's self inflicted celibacy.

"So you're the mysterious girl Clay found crying," Tobias purred, approaching her, flashing a mischievous grin that earned him a dark look from his companion, Julie. "Oh, Julie, don't be jealous—you know there's only you for me."

He bowed his head and whispered something that made Julie laugh, then left it to her to sweep her away under the pretense of showing her the yacht. She barely reached the second deck, where Clay had found his hiding spot on a bench, nestled near the water, when it all went awry. Julie stumbled on her vertiginous heels, colliding with her and depositing her squarely, "accidentally", in Clay's lap.

Immediately, he tensed, eyes wide, lifting both hands to show they wouldn't wander where they weren't invited.

"I am so sorry!" he exclaimed, concern furrowing his brow. "Are you all right? Nothing broken?"

He cast a subtle glare at Tobias, who savored the spectacle. Julie returned to Tobias's side, who mimicked a soft kiss. In that moment he realized Tobias would not let him disembark without securing a new number in his contacts.

"Uhm..." He began, clearing his throat with a nervous smile. "I'm sorry, I invited you on board but I didn't quite catch your name."