Finding someone that I can be friends with has never been easy for me. Trust issues aside, I’m reserved right up to the moment I feel very comfortable in someone’s presence, which makes it difficult for people to get to know and like me. It’s something I learned long ago and have come to terms with. It’s also something that has made me appreciate those who I can call “friend,” those who gave me a chance, who stuck it out until I loosened up. They’ve turned out to be some of the best people I’ve had the good fortune of filling my life with, and I treasure them. It’s probably no coincidence that they’re all older people, like Tanny, Malcolm and Clive. I get the feeling that I’ll soon be adding the much-younger Brian to that list, though. And I’d like nothing more than to be right. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, he’s managed to make me feel welcome and at ease, and I desperately needed that.
I go about getting settled in my room, quickly discovering that there are all sorts of interesting uses of space, like storage for instance. There are drawers tucked under the bed and under the sink, which is a good thing. I didn’t bring that much stuff, but I wouldn’t have enough room to store it all if I’d been given one of the group rooms, especially once I see that the closet is full of clothes already.
I can only assume they are for me. Not only are they brand new and all in my size, but they look like things I’d wear to dance. My style exactly. Whoever Reese has working for him is very good!
Among the costumes, though, are some beautiful gowns and very nice formal wear. I don’t know what I’m expected to wear the items for, but I suppose someone will tell me when the time comes. For all I know, Reese may have his service staff wear things like that. On a boat like this, nothing would surprise me.
But for tonight, my first night on board with no idea what to expect at dinner, I dress in something of my own—a pair of soft moleskin pants in chocolate and a sleeveless blouse in cream. It’s the kind of outfit that can be worn in a wide variety of situations without making me stand out.
I brush out my hair until it hangs in shiny waves around my shoulders and give my lips a fresh coat of gloss. Other than that, I’m going as is. I have no one to impress.
After only five minutes of being cooped up in my tiny room with a window that I can’t see out of unless I stand on the bed, I’m already too fidgety to stay here until dinner time. I decide to go up to one of the open-air decks to enjoy the view instead.
I make three wrong turns getting from where my room is in the forward-most part of the ship to where I thought the steps were that lead to the upper decks. Luckily, one of my wrong turns leads me to a set of steps that end up in the kitchen where Brian just happens to be standing, talking to a man whom I assume is the chef. His tall, puffy hat and long white apron are dead giveaways.
Brian smiles as soon as I appear in the doorway just beyond the long, stainless steel table at which they stand. He’s going over a list of foods as the chef winds long, thin strips of dough into spirals.
“Well, look at you,” he says pleasantly, bestowing upon me another of his winning, yet markedly un-sexually-interested smiles.
“I think I’m lost. I was actually going up to one of the decks to take in some fresh air before dinner.”
“Good for you. Enjoy it while you can. Once the clients are on board, you won’t be able to hang around up there. You’ll be getting cozy with the rest of us in the trenches.”
I get a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach just thinking about spending the next three months locked away in a tiny, airless room in the bow of a ship. But I hide that beneath the small, placid smile that I’ve learned to permanently affix to my face.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Unless they’re off the ship in port.”
“Okay.”
“Or unless you’re requested by one of them. They get whatever they want, of course, even if it’s the company of a particular employee for the night.”
“For the night?” A tiny niggle of alarm sweeps through me. Surely that doesn’t mean what it sounds like it means.
“Well, for the evening. Anything beyond that is a…personal decision, not a work requirement.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say a third time, slowly exhaling my relief.
“But you made one too many lefts. You should’ve taken a left-right-left coming out of your room, not a left-left-left.”
“So I should go back down the stairs and—”
“Girl, that’s too much trouble. Just go out that door,” he says, pointing to a larger door across the room from where we stand, “and you’re in the bar. There will be exits leading to the deck on your left.”
I nod my thanks and make my way outside, even more determined to enjoy the experience and the scenery since it might be my only chance for a while. I’ve never been on a cruise, or on a boat at all actually, so this is a first—but hopefully not a last—for me.
I walk to the furthest point on the bow of the ship and lean into the V of the railing. The wind is warm and brisk, the sun shines on my face as it sets and all I can hear is the spraying sound of the wake as the boat cuts through the water. When I turn my head and look far to the left and scan the horizon all the way around to my right, I’m floored by how small and insignificant I feel. As far as I can see, there is nothing visible but miles and miles of ocean. It’s both humbling and breathtaking. And maybe a little bit intimidating.
I lean over the rail a bit to look down at the front of the yacht where it stands still so far above the surface of the water. That’s when I see them.
I gasp. Six dolphins jump and play in the water just ahead of the ship, as if daring the boat to touch them, but the boat dares not.
The orange light bounces off their pale gray bodies, glistening brightly as they make their brave arc in front of the yacht. With their mouths open as they squeak to one another, it looks like they’re smiling at me as they breach the water for an instant and then disappear two seconds later. I’m barely aware of the delighted laugh that bubbles up in my chest and spills from my lips.
“Amazing, aren’t they?” a deep, familiar voice says at my ear. Immediately, I stiffen, the smile dying from my lips and my heart doubling its beats per minute.
I turn my head to find Reese nearly pressed to my back. In the dying sun, golden highlights shine in his hair and his eyes sparkle like aquamarines of the highest quality. For a moment, I’m tempted to count every inky lash that rims his exotic eyes, but the flash of his brilliant smile takes my breath away and reminds me that I’m playing with fire of the most dangerous kind. I can’t lean away; there’s nowhere to go. My only option is to ignore him and return my attention to the view I was enjoying.