Tentatively, I pushed down on the heavy metal door handle, which operated a heavy metal lever to unseal the door. Although the door was sturdy, it swung open easily—if a bit slowly—and I peered inside.
“Adrienne! Addy! Addy! Addy!” The voice was from a thousand miles away. “Yay! I told them to put us in the same room, but I didn’t think they’d actually do it!”
“Samantha? What on earth are you doing here?” My mouth agape, I shook my head in disbelief.
I’d left my best friend back home in Nebraska a month ago, when I left for my employee training and a few days of solo R&R before my first cruise.
My best friend was sitting on the bottom bunk bed. Her hair had been trimmed to a cute little blonde bob and her chubby cheeks were, as almost always, locked in an indefatigable smile. Samantha bounced to her feet and grabbed me in a tight squeeze across the doorway.
“I couldn’t let you go off and travel the world without me!” she squealed in my ear.
“But… how?”
Samantha let me go and I stepped inside our small room, to get a better look around.
“It’s easy. A couple of days ago, I was browsing a job site, and there was a last-minute position here.”
“But what about training?” I asked, blinking at her. Seeing something, even a person, in an unexpected place can leave you feeling a bit off-kilter.
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, you know. When you’ve been working on cruise ships for five years, you don’t actually need to attend the training.”
“But you…” I shook my head and laughed. I knew for a fact she’d never even seen an ocean before—at least she hadn’t a month earlier when I last saw her. Five years cruising experience indeed. “You lied!”
Sam flicked her short hair defensively and gave me a charming smile. “For a good cause! It’s your first time going off on your own for so long, and God knows cruises can be dangerous. What if something happened to you? I’d never forgive myself!”
I rolled my eyes. “You know I can take care of myself.”
Sam eyed me warily. I knew she didn’t have much faith in my abilities, but she was trying to be polite. “Sure,” she said finally. “But it’s your first time on a big ship like this, and who knows what kinds of people are here? All kinds of crazies in close quarters—”
“Like you!” I interrupted with a grin.
Sam looked relieved. “Glad you’re not mad at me. I just—you know, the last time you went on a road trip alone, last summer? What happened then… well, I just can’t let that happen again. I needed to be with you, even if that meant fibbing a little on my resume.”
Refusing to let that terrible memory cloud this important day, I smiled at Sam. “Unbelievable. It’s so exciting you’re here!”
“I know!” said Sam, though her excitement had seemed to fade rapidly.
“Are you okay?” I asked with a frown. “You look a little… green.”
Samantha gave me a lopsided smile, held up a pill she produced from somewhere, and popped it into her mouth. “It’s because we’re still docked. Once the ship gets going, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re seasick? And we haven’t even left yet!”
She gave me a sad nod. “I’ll be fine. I read all about it. Apparently the body adapts.”
“Does it? For everyone?”
She shrugged. “It better. Speaking of everyone, what time is it? Don’t we have a meeting to get to?”
“Hold on…” I whipped out my smartphone. “Smile!”
Sam gave me a thumbs-up and a passably genuine smile, though I knew she was having to force it more than normal. She also looked a little green, but that would be fixed with the liberal use of photo filters.
“I’m glad you thought to capture this moment,” said Sam, her smile now wan.
“Ye-es. But actually, it’s work! #FirstDay #CrewLife … I’ll think of some more.”
“What do you mean that’s work? Taking selfies?”
I bobbed my head excitedly. “Yep! And that wasn’t a selfie because I wasn’t in it. I’m the social media manager, Sam, which means I spend all day taking pictures and Tweeting and Instagramming and Facebooking and posting things on the ship’s digital displays and customer information websites.”
Sam was frowning now. “That’s not fair. I’m just a customer liaison. That means I have to listen to all their complaints and help them with all their problems.”
I gave her a supportive shoulder squeeze. “That’s awesome! You’ll get to meet so many interesting people. I’m a little bit jealous!” This was a one hundred percent, total, absolute lie, but it was also sparkling white. I was pretty sure my job was going to be way more fun than hers, but I didn’t want to get her down.
“Yeah, maybe. Come on. Let’s go.”
Remembering she’d said something about a staff meeting, I pulled up my schedule using the staff app on the phone. She was right. Although my role was different, I was technically part of the Customer Liaison Team like Sam and we indeed had a meeting.
We walked arm in arm down the hall and I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Of course, I was actually floating on water, but I guess they’re pretty similar feelings. I wanted to grill Sam more about how she faked her way into the job, but that conversation would have to wait until we were back in our room with the door sealed tight.
“We must be going the right way. Can you hear all those people?”
From ahead of us, we could hear the echoing chatter of a small group of people. Down below deck, it was all hard metal surfaces and sounds bounced around like in a cave. Up in the passenger areas, though, it was more like being inside a proper building: carpets and wallpapers and wood paneling absorbed sound normally rather than the utilitarian echo chamber of the ‘working’ levels.
“Know where you’re going?” The voice had a rich, melodious tone and when I turned to look, I saw that the girl it was coming from had a smile just as friendly as Sam’s. In fact, given Sam’s current state, it was even friendlier. She must have heard us as she’d been walking down a corridor that intersected the one we were on.
“I think so,” I said, offering the girl a smile.
I had been worried about not knowing anyone aboard the ship, but then Sam showed up, and now this girl, even though we’d just met, had an air of friendliness about her that seemed infectious.
“Cece Blake,” she said, sticking out a hand.
Sam and I both exchanged quick, gentle handshakes with her.
“Adrienne James.”
“Samantha Williams.”
She gave us a once-over, her eyes flicking over our uniforms. “Ooh, social media manager? That’s a new one, you lucky thing.”
I beamed at her.
“And customer liaison.” Cece’s smile grew notably tighter. “That can be real interesting.”
“What do you do?” I asked her at the same time as I read her name badge. Idiot, I mentally kicked myself.
“Housekeeping,” she said, tapping a short-nailed finger against a badge that said exactly that under her name.
Our friendly meeting was interrupted by a thumping sound.
“What was that?” asked Sam with a frown.
I made a mental note to remind her to stop asking so many questions. If she was going to pretend she had five years of shipboard experience, then she really needed to pretend to know what was going on.
“Sounded like a giant bag of meat smacking against a metal bulwark,” said Cece with a shrug.
It kind of did. “Is that… a thing?”
Cece snorted and used a hand to cover up a giggle.
“Hell-ohhhh?” came a slurred voice.
From the same direction Cece had come, a large man lumbered into view, ping-ponging his way off the metal bulwarks.
“Great,” said Cece under her breath in a tone which indicated she was anything but delighted by the vision before us.
“Ah! Wenches!” The man stopped his lumbering and leaned against a wall.
“Is wenches right? Or is that taverns?” He had a worried frown, and he dropped his hands to his knees to steady himself. Sweat was beading on his forehead.
“Sir, this area is restricted to staff and crew,” said Cece politely but firmly.
“Crew! Ah!” The man beamed. “Which crew member would like to show me back to my quarters?” He raised a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn.
“That’s my job,” said Sam glumly, her beaming smile now a distant memory.
Cece winced. “Yeah, you better take him to his cabin. Just take that service elevator up to the VIP quarters and his room is right around the corner.” Cece pointed down toward the end of the hallway. “Goodness knows how he got down here though. You need your keycard to make it work.”
Sam’s hand went up and reflexively touched her ID and access card, which hung from a lanyard around her neck like most staff members. “Wish me luck…”
Cece took her by the shoulders. “Just don’t get too close to him. Understand?”
Sam nodded, though she didn’t look happy about it. “See you in a bit…”
We waved her off and watched as she led the man into the elevator. When the doors had closed, we resumed our journey to the meeting.
“I guess she’s had plenty of experience with passengers like that,” said Cece, shaking her head to herself. “I’d hate to do her job.”
“Plenty of experience?”
“Samantha Williams, right? I was looking over the list of new members. She’s been doing this since I was in high school.”
“Oh, yeah. Five years, all right.” While I was happy to have Sam here, I wasn’t overly pleased about having to play along with her little ruse. “But don’t you have to deal with customers like that too? You have to go into their rooms.”
“Yep, but we do that when the passengers aren’t there. And anyway, if I don’t want to talk to them, I just tell them I don’t hablo Ingles.”
I giggled. “I guess me and her couldn’t get away with that in our jobs!”
Cece shook her head. “Nope. You have to be nice to people like old Patrick Murphy back there.”
“You know that guy?”
“He’s famous. Infamous, rather. Takes about a hundred cruises a year and acts like an idiot on every one.”
“Is he… violent?” I asked, worried for Sam.
“He’s not punchy, but he is handsy. I guess your friend is used to dealing with people like that though.”
I pondered that thought for a moment. Back in Nebraska, Sam had been able to handle herself, but I worried that out here at sea was a completely different kettle of fish.
“She’s a tough cookie.”
“Awesome. There’ll be plenty of people up on the VIP floor anyway. Lots of them like to get here early and settle in before the riff-raff arrive.” We reached a room with a wide-open door and a couple of people hanging out outside. “Come on, in here.”
I followed Cece into the room labeled Staff Meeting Room Three. Like a lot of the non-passenger areas of the ship, the ceilings were low and everything felt cramped. The room had several dozen chairs in it, and a small elevated section at one end from which presentations could be given.
There were already about twenty people in the room and the air bubbled with excitement. I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures. I probably wouldn’t use them, but I figured something good might turn up.
“Sweet. The best seats are still free.” Cece sat down in the very back row, closest to the door we had entered through, and patted the seat next to her. I instinctively hesitated. At school, I always sat at the front of the class and still had the childish thought in the back of my mind that sitting at the back was for the ‘bad apples.’
The hesitation didn’t last long. I’d left home to start a new life and become a new person. Why not start by casting off my goodie-two-shoes image? With a grin, I sat next to my new friend.
“These things never start on time,” she said, shaking her head and sighing. I checked the time. It was 4:30 p.m. exactly, the time the meeting was supposed to start.
We were still waiting five minutes later when Samantha arrived, tapping me on the shoulder from behind and then squeezing past me to sit down.
She didn’t look great. Her normally calm face seemed to be trying to decide whether it wanted to be red or green.
“Did you get him back to his cage?” asked Cece with a smirk.
“Yeah, just about.”
“Are you okay?”
She didn’t look it.
“Yeah… I’m fine,” she said, though her tone was so subdued she might as well have had a neon sign above her head flashing DEFINITELY NOT FINE.
“Testing, testing, one, two, one, two. Can you hear me at the back?”
We responded that we could indeed hear the lady at the front who I knew to be Sylvia Diaz. She was the cruise director and my immediate boss, who I’d met several times during the interview and training process. While I hadn’t fully made up my mind about her, I was pretty sure we wouldn’t ever be friends; we were as compatible as toothpaste and cheese.
“Right. The meeting agenda is up on the screen and you should all have been emailed a copy. Please pay attention. It’s not just for my benefit. It’s also a legal requirement that you are fully informed about all safety procedures…”
And so, the meeting, and my new career, began in earnest.
Chapter Two
The next day, with the memory of the interminably long meeting still at the forefront of my thoughts (did you know that if a passenger falls overboard, we’re not supposed to strip off and dive in right after them? And that if there’s a fire, we’re supposed to pull the alarm? And that stealing from a passenger’s room is a big no-no?), it was time to get to work.
After Sam and I had finally finished chatting last night, I’d dozed off to sleep listening to the ship’s engines. The crew quarters were close enough to the engine rooms that the ship’s power plant provided a constant background hum that, although alien to a farm girl like me, was not unpleasant.
I had tried not to look too excited when I parted with Cece and Sam as they headed to their respective jobs after breakfast. It didn’t seem fair that they would be cleaning and dealing with fussy passengers while I basically got to do what I wanted, wandering around the ship, taking pictures of the most interesting things, and writing posts about them. But hey, life’s not fair, I told myself with a grin when I thought no one was looking.
The first thing I did was take a few pictures of people boarding: #CruiseLife #Cruising #FirstDayCruise. Most of the VIPs had boarded the day before for an extra exclusive night, but the regular passengers—non-vips, as Cece called them—were being welcomed aboard today.
The Swan of the Seas was apparently a minnow in the world of cruising, though it felt like a floating city to me. The population on board was at least triple that of Cornridge, Nebraska, where Sam and I hailed from and it felt to me just as monumental as if I’d moved to Chicago or New York.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see who it was.
“Adrienne, darling?” said Sylvia the cruise director, who had sidled up behind my prime location looking down on the gangway below.
“Oh, hi!” I said and immediately felt guilty.
It’s a bit of a weakness of mine; whenever I’m doing something fun, I feel like I should be doing something not fun instead. And this job was definitely fun so far.
“Good work so far, but I’m going to need you to think about a bit more pizazz in your work, do you see?”
“Pizazz?” I asked, scrunching up my nose.
I’d only started a few minutes before. It didn’t seem exactly fair to accuse me of being boring, which is presumably what my pizazz-lessness was.
“Yes, get out there, mingle. Meet the customers. I know you’re not a customer liaison, but in some ways, you are the ultimate customer liaison. Do you see?”
Do you see seemed to be a verbal tic of hers and I was already t
empted to answer no.
“Uh-huh,” I sounded. “I was thinking of interviewing some of the cruise regulars. Since I do have a background in journalism, after all.”
Sylvia nodded at me. “Yes, that might work. But make sure they’re positive. If they have any complaints, make sure you edit them out. Your job is to provide a positive spin, not to ‘report’ on problems, do you see?”
“Yes, I see,” I said, hiding a frown. I was being censored already and I hadn’t even reported anything yet!
“Remember, you’re our social media tsarina, our publicity princess, our picture poster, and our Twitter tweeter. You’re not Bernstein and Woodward. Do you see?”
I gritted my teeth and forced my finest fake smile. “Absolutely. I’m going to be so positive I’ll pop.”
“Fantastico! You can ask some of the other staff members who the regulars are for your interviews, but remember, keep them short and sweet and fun. And make sure you’re Tweeting and Instagramming hourly!”
Hourly? Goodness. Perhaps this work wasn’t going to be quite as laid back as I thought it would be.
“Yes, boss,” I said and saluted her with my smartphone.
She beamed back at me and went off to harass some other poor staff members. Looking below me, I could see that the gangways had been lifted and removed, and the last of the ship’s moorings were being untied.
Beyond, I caught my last glimpses of the most fun city I’d ever had the pleasure of visiting: New Orleans. After nearly a month there, I’d come to the conclusion that there was more excitement in one night in New Orleans than in an entire month in Nebraska. Not that Nebraska is dull, you understand, but… no, scratch that. Nebraska is dull. But almost anywhere would be compared to Nola. Speaking of which, I’m not supposed to say Nola, because apparently it makes me sound like a tourist.
I was on a deck called The Constitutional, so named because it provided a pleasant path to stroll the circumference of the ship at a leisurely pace, with a few cafés dotting the path and a liberal sprinkling of benches, chairs, and sun loungers placed every hundred yards or so in case you needed a break in your exercise. Another deck had a running track for those wanting something a bit more active, and I hoped to get a few interesting shots there later.
Reunions and Revelations in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery Page 21
