I recognized Vanessa the moment I spotted her across the room.

Four summers had passed since I’d last seen her, but she was just as I remembered: long wavy hair, exotic good looks, slinky figure. My pulse ticked up a notch.

I was sitting at the bar with some buddies from the boat (I work on a commercial fishing trawler), and we were having a few beers to celebrate our first night ashore in two weeks. Vanessa sat in a booth with a man who looked like he knew how lucky he was. When Vanessa saw me, she broke into a bright smile of recognition and beckoned me over.

“Hey, Deanie!” she exclaimed, half-rising for a kiss and a hug. Her hair, fragrant and soft against my face, was the color of malt whiskey. “Join us, will you? Eddie,” she said, turning to her companion, “this... Read More