“Emily or something like that.”
“Found her. And nope, she never gave his name.”
Just as we reached the stateroom, the guy from the Twitter feed walked down the hallway perpendicular to ours, arm in arm with a stunning brunette.
I whispered, “That’s him.”
Charles said, “But that’s not Emily.”
I’m pretty sure my eyes were as wide as Charles’.
The porter deposited our bags in the bedroom of our suite.
Yes, I said our suite. Charles and I would be sharing a cabin. I wasn’t sure we’d make it through the cruise without one of us being pushed overboard. Though I was sure he’d take in the activities, food, and drink, while I planned to hide in the cabin or on the balcony, trying to get my mind straight.
Katy Perry’s voice ran on a loop as the TV, reminding us about the sanitizer stations posted everywhere on the ship.
No sooner did I tip the porter when Charles went to the bed and grabbed the folded towels and ripped them apart.
“What’s the matter with you?” I put my bag on the bed and unzipped it.
“I’m not drying my body with a crab.” He grabbed the seahorse off my bed.
I grabbed it back. “Stop, you towel animal hater. I like mine.”
The announcement for the muster drill came over the ship’s speaker system. Having been on a cruise, I remembered this and really wanted to bow out, but no matter how many cruises you take, it’s mandatory.
“My least favorite part of taking a cruise. But the one time I successfully avoid it will be the time I need to remember the stuff I forgot since the last cruise. And I’d probably snag someone else’s lifeboat, and Leonardo will have to float in the water until he dies again.” He sounded serious as he said this.
I rolled my eyes. “Honey, the chances of you being on the same cruise with Leonardo are pretty slim.”
As the hallways filled with people, we once again saw the guy from the Twitter thread. I really wanted to meet him. More than that, I wanted to meet the woman with him, who wore a two-carat diamond ring.
Charles leaned in close. “That’s an Audemar’s Piguet Royal Oak. See that rose gold?”
“I’m not sure what that means. The Piguet part, not the rose gold part.”
“It’s a $150,000 watch.”
I gasped and the lovely brunette turned to look at me.
“Sorry, I thought I saw Adam Levine.”
She looked around. “Where?”
“He’s gone now. Darn it,” I said.
Charles’ body shook as he stifled a laugh.
“Hi, I’m Mimi Cap--, uh, Christianson.”
She didn’t offer her hand, but said, “Kendra Daly, and this is my husband, Alan.”
“I’m Charles Parks.” Charles looked pointedly at Alan. “Do I know you? You look really familiar.”
Alan smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. “You don’t look at all familiar to me. Maybe I have that kind of face.”
I gasped again, but this time it was because I really did see someone.
“Adam again?” Kendra looked around.
I shook my head. “No, I just remembered I forgot my birth control.”
The loud speaker saved me when they finally started the muster drill.
On the way back to the cabin, we separated from Kendra and Alan.
“Hey, I’m not sure, but I think Emily is on the ship,” I said to Charles.
Charles stopped walking. “Was that the birth control gasp?”
“It was. I couldn’t exactly tell you right then and there.”
He frowned. “How much fun would that have been? Then I could have said, ‘I know why you look familiar. You were in the lav with that Emily chick from the plane. Was your wife on the same flight?’”
“You wouldn’t have,” I said, but wasn’t convinced.
“Are you hungry?”
“No. I just want to go back to the cabin and sleep.”
“You suck as a cruise partner. I’m going to walk around and scope the place out.”
4
Charles
I’m not usually a day drinker, but second guessing my idea to help Mimi run away from her problems drove me to the bar. That, and the unlimited drink package I purchased with my cruise tickets.
“Dirty martini, Stoli, extra olives,” I told the bartender, who didn’t look old enough to serve alcohol.
He looked at me and smiled, then walked to the far end of the bar. I watched him scoop ice into the metal drink shaker, then add the vodka, vermouth, and olive juice. Placing the lid on tight, he shook the mixture, then pulled the cap off and drained it into an extra-large martini glass. He stuffed three olives on the skewer, then stuffed three more onto another one, submerging both of them in the alcohol.
“Sir,” he said, placing the glass in front of me.
“Well done, young man. You’re wise beyond your years.” I sipped the cocktail, and I’m pretty sure I hummed out loud.
“You get good working seven days a week for ten months at a time.”
I looked up. “You work every day?”
“What else am I going to do? I live on a ship. It’s not like having a day off is a day off.” The words could have sounded jaded, but the grin on his face told me he wasn’t bored with his job just yet.
I took another drink of my martini, and as I replaced my glass on the bar, Alan Daly sat down on the barstool beside me. “Alan, right?”
He couldn’t have been much older than thirty, if that, with the build of a guy who played sports in college, meaning he had the extra muscle that comes from having a conditioning coach. The brooding good looks of a guy with strong features, dark hair, and darker eyes, his wide smile belied his dark looks. Perfect, white teeth. I tend to look at teeth, and liked them perfect.
“You’re the guy who thought you’d seen me somewhere. Do you mind if I ask where it was you thought you saw me?” He seemed more concerned than curious.
“Twitter,” I said. Why lie?
“No way, seriously? That’s not good. Not good at all.” He waved at the bartender. “Maker’s straight up, please.”
“Hair of the dog?” I asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You looked like you drank quite a bit on the plane. Hair of the dog.”
The bartender placed a rocks glass in front of Alan and poured.
“What was your name again?” he asked.
“Charles Parks.”
“This has been a really bad day.” He took a long drink of his whiskey.
“Really? Seemed like you had an eventful flight.”
“Oh man, have you ever done something really stupid, but told yourself, ‘It’ll be okay. No one knows,’ only to find out everyone knows?”
I drew my brows together, as if I’d been contemplating the question, even though I knew the answer. “Can’t say that I have. But I did see your girl from the flight on the ship.”
He cringed. “My day started off pretty bad. We had a last-minute disaster at my restaurant in Chicago, and I missed the flight to LAX with my wife. She was furious with me. So when I finally did make it to the airport, I had plenty of time to sit and stew, and drink. I was drunk before I boarded the plane. Only not so drunk they didn’t let me on. And then that girl.”
“Yes, that girl,” I said.
“I didn’t even know she’d been tweeting the whole thing until the plane landed.”
“That’s bullshit. You smiled right into the camera when she took the photo of you two going at it in the bathroom.”
He looked at me, eyes wide. “No, no, we didn’t actually have sex. Oh, my God, no. Is that what it looked like?”
I nodded and sipped my martini.
He downed the rest of his drink and waved the bartender over again.
“Not just what it looked like. She put an emoji over your private parts, but she showed you in action.”
The bartender refilled the glass, waiting, as if he wanted to hear the r
est of the story. When Alan didn’t say anything, he walked away with the bottle. Maybe he was just waiting for him to down the drink so he could refill it right away.
“Wait a minute. Did you just say she’s on the ship?” Alan gripped the rocks glass like a lifeline.
“I did.”
“I’m so screwed.”
“I’d say screwed is what you won’t be when your stunning wife meets your airplane girlfriend.” I couldn’t hold back and chuckled a little.
“No, that won’t happen. It can’t happen. We’re celebrating our third wedding anniversary.”
“You mean your last wedding anniversary.”
Alan put his head down on the bar. “I’m so screwed.”
I didn’t say anything.
He lifted his head off the bar and drank half his whiskey in one gulp, then the other half right after. Slurring his words, he said, “I have to fix this. I love my wife.”
“Dude, you were pretty hammered on the plane. Maybe you can tell her you don’t remember any of it when she sees the thread on Twitter.”
“Sees the thread?” He looked at me with glassy eyes.
“The chick tweeted the whole thing. Love at first flight and all that. I think she thinks you’re getting married. Did you give her your phone number?”
He stood up off his barstool, losing his balance, but staying on his feet. He reached for his phone and looked at it. “My life sucks. I may as well just kill myself now.”
He showed me his phone.
“Twenty-six messages? I think it’s overkill. She’s static cling. You’re the shirt and she’s the sock, and she’s stuck on you.” I really laughed now.
“Can you read them? I can’t bear to look.” He handed me his phone.
Gladly. This was too much fun. What were the chances of meeting the people behind a viral Twitter thread? I scrolled through.
“Do you want to meet up with her on the ship? Or are you finished with her?”
“Finished. She’s the biggest mistake of my life.”
I typed on his phone, then read it back to him. “‘Stop texting me. I’m married. You were the biggest mistake of my life. Leave me alone.’ How’s that?”
“That’s exactly what I should text to her.” He reached for his phone.
I hit send and handed the phone back. “You just did.”
Not ten seconds later, his phone started blowing up. He had it on silent, but the vibration could be heard clearly in the almost empty bar.
“I can’t believe you did that. What an asshole. That wasn’t your business.” He looked at the message (or maybe it was messages). “How do you block a number?”
I drank the last of my martini in one long gulp, then stood. “Google it. Man up and own your mistake.”
I put a twenty on the bar and heard him groan as I walked away.
“Hey, drinks are included,” the bartender called after me.
“Yeah, I know. That’s yours.”
Headed down the hall, I heard someone behind me. Too close. I turned to confront the person invading my space.
“Roger!”
“Charles!”
I’m not normally a hugger, but I reached out and gave him a manly hug.
Roger Stires was director of security on this cruise, and he was the reason Max and I had decided to take the cruise in the first place. Max knew Roger from college and we’d become good friends since I first met him.
“I looked on the passenger manifest, but didn’t see Max. What happened?” He looked concerned and curious at the same time.
Roger wouldn’t be my kind of guy, but not because he wasn’t good looking. With military short hair, his ears stuck out more than socially acceptable, but the broad smile on his face with his big lips and perfect teeth made a person look at his tanned face, not his ears. His nose had a slight hook, giving him a humbug look, and bright blue eyes. His off-kilter features complimented his more handsome ones.
“Family issues,” I said.
“You and Max?”
I tried to blush, but couldn’t muster it. “My business partner just found out the husband she thought had died years ago was really alive. Only she didn’t find out until he actually did die, and by that time, she’d remarried.”
Roger’s eyes went wide. “Whoa.”
I laughed. “Right?”
“So you’re with your business partner?” He pulled out a small tablet and swiped and tapped the screen. “Mimi Cappuro?”
“She’s Mimi Christianson now, but she hasn’t had time to change her driver’s license and passport, so we boarded with her old identification. She hasn’t been remarried long.”
“What happened?”
“Long story. Maybe when you have some time later, we can have a drink and I’ll share the details. But I helped her run away from the real world until she could come to grips with the fact her husband left her behind to save his own ass.”
“Sounds like an interesting story,” Roger said.
“Not really,” I said.
“Well, I have a security meeting. We’ll have to meet up. Still have the same cell number?”
“I do.”
I watched Roger walk down the hall, appreciating the cut of his suit.
5
Mimi
Thank goodness Charles decided to be quiet for a change when he came back to the cabin. Or maybe it was the Xanax I took before lying down on the bed. I didn’t hear him come back in, and when I woke up, it was dark outside. I saw him pacing the short balcony with his phone to his ear.
I rolled over, trying to go back to sleep, and prayed for my mind to turn back off, but it was no use. I sat up. Charles saw me, said something to the person he spoke with, then disconnected.
The doors to the balcony had been left open, so I was surprised I didn’t hear his conversation. He walked through them with a grim expression.
“Is everything okay?” My stomach lurched, anticipating his answer.
“Nick called to check on you. He’s wondering if he should hire an attorney.”
I jumped off the bed. “He wouldn’t call you for something like that. He’d call me.”
“You don’t have your phone on you.” Charles placed his phone on the coffee table.
I rolled my lips in like a person with no teeth as I chastised myself for the foolish move. “You win.”
“It was Nick, but he just called to make sure you’re okay. I told him to hire a divorce attorney.”
I could taste my horrible breath, so I opened my travel bag and pulled out my toothbrush and toothpaste. Walking into the bathroom, I said, “Liar.”
“Nah, it’s all good. But he did relay some information about the investigation. There’s no hard evidence, but it looks like Dominic’s own mother may have ordered the hit.”
Mid-squeeze of my toothpaste, I stopped. “You can’t be serious about that.”
“According to FBI records, she’s taken over the family business. Dominic tried to take them down when he planned to testify. Blood isn’t thicker than a drug cartel’s money.”
I finished topping my toothbrush and put the cap back on the paste. I pressed the button and the round head vibrated as I moved it around in my mouth and over my tongue. As I did this, I closed my eyes, picturing Dominic’s mother. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t see her face clearly.
When I walked out of the bathroom, the suite stood empty. I went out to the balcony to see if Charles had been enjoying the cool, clean night air, but he was nowhere to be found. His phone sat on the table still, so I knew he hadn’t gone far.
I stepped up to the balcony railing and looked down, only to see the emergency boats hanging. At least I knew what to do in case of an emergency. Looking out over the water, the world had gone black, except for the lights of the harbor, which were now fading in the distance as the ship moved out to sea.
Knowing myself too well, I’d taken Dramamine before even getting on the plane in Monterey. I looked at my watch to see if I should take ano
ther one. No way was I adding insult to injury by being nauseous on this cruise.
I listened to the night air, and heard music coming from an upper deck, a couple arguing over what to wear for dinner, and the general sounds of a ship cruising through the waters. The peacefulness overwhelmed me, and I relished the escape from reality.
“Are you dressed yet?” Charles entered the cabin dressed in a tuxedo, carrying what looked like a dry-cleaning bag over his shoulder.
“Whoa! Who are you?”
“Haha, you’re so funny.” He unzipped the cover and pulled it over the hangers. One at a time, he laid three dresses on the bed. “Pick one, then go take a quick shower and put your face on. I’ll go get shoes to go with it while you’re getting ready.”
“Why are we so dressed up? I thought the formal dinner on a cruise was the second night.” I did ogle the dresses, though.
“This ship’s itinerary must be different. Maybe they want to make sure the passengers get to know each other right away.” He pointed. “Now choose.”
“How do you know they’ll even fit?”
“Pick!”
He’d chosen a lovely floor length scarlet dress in a satin, an orange I’d never have chosen for myself, and a shorter, knee-length, black dress with narrow shoulder straps, covered in sequins and beading. Simple, yet stunning. I picked it up.
“Black. I should have known. I’m getting you silver shoes, so you’re not dressed completely in black.” He turned and left the room.
I hadn’t even said I wanted to wear that dress and thought about putting on the orange one just to throw him off. No, I didn’t have the energy for that. I stripped down and jumped in the shower, doing my best to keep my hair dry.
When I got out, I brushed my hair into a French twist and added a fancy clip I’d brought along, then did my best with makeup, but couldn’t get the eye swelling under control, so I opted for just foundation, a nude lip color, blush, and mascara. At least I’d look somewhat presentable. I didn’t want to scare everyone away from our table.
I looked down at the counter and saw Charles had put out a tube of “instant tan” lotion and a pair of plastic gloves. Good thing I chose the black dress; the stains wouldn’t show.
Love is a Many Splintered Thing Page 3
