Nick's POV
"Don't joke with me now, Nicholas. It's not funny, I believed you for a second there," my father muttered, his tone warning but his knife steady as he resumed slicing through his meat.
I leaned back, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and then fixed my gaze on him. Steady and sharp. "You can believe it now, Dad. I'm not joking. I can start tomorrow if you want. I'm serious about pleading guilty and staying on land. I won't sail anymore… at least not commercially. I'll still drive a boat once in a while, for friends, for family."
Reagan's sarcastic voice cut like a blade, without even sparing me a glance. "The only friends you have are Ollie and Steven, and they both know how to drive a boat. What friends and family are you talking about? Everyone in this room can steer one."
I smirked, enjoying the way his words tried to sting but missed. "Who knows? Maybe I'll use it for my honeymoon. Maybe I want to settle down, that's why I don't want to captain a ship anymore."
