“What does that mean, ‘Domani’?” Sloane asks, reading my mind.
“It means, ‘tomorrow’,” Karesh explains. “His first is called ‘Ieri’ which means yesterday, and his newest is called ‘Sempre’,” he finishes.
“Forever,” I whisper. I remember hearing the Italian word somewhere, maybe from Malcolm. I think I remember him saying his mother was born in Sicily, which would account for the dark good looks of all the Spencer men.
We follow Karesh from one stunning space on the yacht to another, all set against the backdrop of an endless horizon and water as far as the eye can see. We’ve already left the harbor and I had no idea we were even moving.
It’s more opulent than anything I’ve ever seen. The accommodations include everything from a library and show room, to a small swimming pool and gym. Although more compact, this craft lacks nothing that any resort on land boasts. At least not that I can see.
I wonder how I ever, in my young mind, thought that Reese and I could have a future of any kind. We might as well be from different planets. I mean, I knew it at the time. I knew he was the quintessential rich kid and I was the classic poor girl, but this…this is just staggering. We weren’t worlds apart; we were galaxies apart. I was a fool to ever get involved with someone like Reese. But the only thing I can do about it now is vow never to make the same mistake again.
And I don’t plan to.
Ever.
When we go below decks to the staterooms, Karesh begins assigning rooms. I get a glimpse inside each one we pass. They’re all outfitted with queen sized beds, rich cream duvets and carpeting that appears to be six inches thick. They’re nicer than my bedroom at home, which I was quite proud of until today.
Soon, everyone is getting settled in their room and I am following Karesh by myself to another part of the ship.
“These are the crew quarters,” he says. “And since you’ll be working for Mr. Spencer during this voyage, your accommodations will be located here.” We pass several narrow doors, one of which is open and I can see inside. Two sets of bunk beds dominate the room, one against the wall to the left, the other against the wall to the right. I gulp. I’m a very private person and it really didn’t occur to me to ask about living quarters. But, it’s too late to ask now. We’ve already left Los Angeles behind.
We pass an area he explains is the crew lounge. It’s a large room with a kitchenette against the back wall and a long table that separates it from the living area. The main space holds three sofas, two chairs, and a big screen television that’s mounted to the wall. Several people are gathered around two men playing at a foosball table that’s pushed into a corner. None of them bother to look up as we pass, for which I’m intensely grateful. I need to get my bearings before meeting the others.
Karesh continues on to more rooms, finally stopping beside the very last door. He opens it and sweeps his arm forward, an indication that I should precede him. So I do.
This room is different than the others. It’s lighter, this one having a small, high window on one wall, and it has one full-sized bed rather than the bunk beds that line the walls in the others. There is a small sink in one corner, as well as a soft round chair that appears to be bolted to the floor. I hold my breath, almost afraid to ask if this one will be mine.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” Karesh divulges.
“Really?” He nods his head and smiles.
“Really.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, running my hand over the countertop that surrounds the sink. “Please don’t take this as a complaint, but why do I get a room like this? What about the other rooms?”
“Mr. Spencer asked that you be given this room.”
“Did he say why?”
“I only do as I’m told, ma’am. I don’t ask questions.”
I nod and smile. “I understand. Well, thank you. This room is…is…it’s great.”
“I’m glad you approve,” he says pleasantly. “Your bags will be here shortly. If there is anything else you need, feel free to ask. Just dial 300 from any phone on the ship. I can arrange to have any necessities obtained for you once we reach Hawaii.”
“We’re going to Hawaii?”
“Yes, that’s our first stop, where we’ll drop off Mr. Spencer’s brother and his companions and pick up our clients.”
“Oh, I see. And then where will we be going?”
“French Polynesia, ma’am,” he answers.
“Oh,” I reply vaguely but enthusiastically. I have no idea what kinds of destinations lie in French Polynesia. That’s what happens when you don’t finish high school. The GED program skips a lot. “It sounds amazing.”
“Oh, it is,” he assures. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. If your bags aren’t delivered in ten minutes—”
He doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence before he’s interrupted by a young, fit, blond guy. “Sir, I have them.”
“Perfect timing, Brian,” Karesh says, stepping out of his way. “Brian, this is Kennedy. She’ll be in entertainment. Serving as well if extra help is needed. Kennedy, this is Brian. He’s the on-board trainer and the person who will be keeping you conditioned during your stay.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Brian.”
“Likewise,” Brian says with a broad smile.
Karesh nods to me. “I’ll see you in one hour for dinner in the rotunda.”
“Thank you, Karesh,” I say before he walks off. Smiling, I turn to Brian who’s holding my big suitcase. “I’ll take that.”
As if it weighs nothing, Brian picks up the case with one hand, keeping it out of my reach as he holds me off with the other. “Nope. I’ve got it. I’ll be working those muscles of yours soon enough.”
He gives me an engaging smile as he walks past me to deposit my suitcase on the bed. He turns, dusting off his hands, and winks at me. “Welcome aboard, Dorothy. You’re not in Kansas anymore.”
I’m surprised when he kisses my cheek on his way back out the door. I’m sure I’m wearing an expression that says as much as he closes the door behind himself, leaving me standing in the middle of my new room, pondering his strangely familiar behavior.
In the quiet moments following his departure, I realize three things about Brian. One, I don’t think he meant anything derogatory by the Dorothy comment. Two, something in my gut tells me he’s g*y. And three, I like him already. That seemingly-innocuous trio of tiny details puts me at ease and gives me a better outlook on the coming summer than any I’ve had so far.