I was just about to share my thoughts with Caitlin when we passed the officer’s mess and saw Luciano talking to a tall blond officer. If there was anything guaranteed to stop Caitlin in her tracks, it was two men in white uniforms with shoulder stripes.
Caitlin immediately veered into the officer’s mess. “Well, hello, gentlemen,” she said, turning on the charm. “How are we on this fine Barbadian day?”
In the craziness of the morning, I’d completely forgotten we were docked in Barbados. I’d been looking forward to it all week.
Luciano gave us a huge, warm smile and leaned over to give us double cheek-kisses. “Ciao belle, it’s so good to see you.” He gestured to the other officer. “This is my friend, Thomas. He’s another engineer, from Norway.”
Thomas had blue eyes and high, flat cheekbones that looked as though they’d been carved out of smooth, expensive stone. He nodded politely. “Hello, ladies. It’s lovely to meet you. Would you like to join us on the beach today?”
It was certainly a better idea than hanging out in the dark cabin all day. The promise I’d just made to myself flitted through my mind, but I dismissed it. I wasn’t going to sleep with them, and it wasn’t the crew bar, so it was fine. Talking on a beach was surely allowed.
Caitlin and I dashed back to the cabin, where we snagged our swimsuits, cameras, and sunscreen, and I cursed my substantial pale thighs in the mirror. The guys were waiting for us when we finally arrived.
Barbados’s only city, Bridgetown, was on the harbour, and it was full of beautiful, crumbling colonial buildings. In stark contrast to the characterful architecture, enthusiastic street vendors selling tacky wares lined the streets we passed. Cruise ship tourism, Luciano explained, had made tiny islands like this thrive all over the Caribbean and Bahamas. Barbados, apparently, was one of the most developed.
Caitlin and I held hands to avoid losing each other in the heaving crowd. “I forgot there’s a festival on today,” she yelled in my ear. “What a pain in the ass.”
The island was full of tourists, but Caitlin’s bright blonde hair still got a fair share of wolf whistles and attention. Normally she loved attention, but today I could tell it was making her a bit uncomfortable.
The boys ushered us away from Swan Street to find a taxi. As we walked down the side streets, shady-looking men with beady eyes repeatedly approached us. Well, maybe they didn’t actually have beady eyes, but they were definitely of questionable character; every single one of them offered to sell us drugs.
“The salesmen get really damn annoying,” Caitlin said. “It really takes the shine off the island paradise myth when you’re continually offered a multitude of crap every time you come ashore.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “A few of us hatched a plan one night to screen-print t-shirts that say ‘I don’t want braids, t-shirts, drugs, or a taxi…I’M CREW!’”
We all laughed, though after only a brief sojourn on the island, I could already see why you would want such a shirt. That being said, one of the savvy salesmen would almost certainly try to score some and try to sell them back to you, totally missing the irony.
We managed to flag down a taxi, which took us to a flashy hotel about twenty minutes away. After tipping like a rock star, Luciano had a quick word with the concierge and then led us through a stunning marble-floored lobby onto a private beach complete with beach volleyball, sun lounges, water sports, and waistcoat-wearing waiters. An array of women in string bikinis lazed in the sun and sipped on colourful cocktails, while oily-chested men drank beers and eyed up the women.
“So this is where the beautiful people go…” I mused, feeling extremely self-conscious in my Marks & Spencers get-up.
“Yes, and on this day we too are the beautiful ones,” answered Luciano, his Italian accent making the line sound more poetic than corny.
We found a group of sun lounges towards the back of the beach, partially under the shade of tropical palms that lined the edge of the sand. I might have been British, but I wasn’t going to fry myself today. Previous beach holidays had taught me that a gradual tan was the way to go. Steamed lobster isn’t a good look on anyone.
Caitlin stripped down to her bikini immediately. I was incredibly envious of her tiny waist, and even more jealous that she was able to eat so much junk and still stay so trim. I wasn’t exactly a fast food lover, but I struggled even to stay the somewhat well-rounded shape I was. My bikini was still stashed away in the bottom of my suitcase; for the time being, a one-piece and a sarong were my best friends.
The guys were both tanned and seemed confident in their swimming attire. Luciano had a hairy chest that would have made a Roman God proud, and the way he looked in his tight white swimming trunks showed he had time to visit the gym. The fact Seth would look incredibly sexy in those swimming trunks briefly crossed my mind, but I waved it away before I got too wistful. Seth obviously wasn’t that into me, and thanks to Maria, I sincerely doubted anybody else would be either.
I was just digging into my beach bag for sunscreen when Thomas asked the inevitable question: “Anybody want a drink?”
We agreed upon wine, and Thomas beckoned to a waiter, who returned with four huge wine glasses and an ice cold bottle of Pinot Grigio in a silver bucket. He pushed its stand down firmly into the sand and left with a nod and a bow. Did people actually live like this? If I’d been in a children’s storybook, I would have pinched myself to see if I was dreaming.
Luciano pulled out a small digital camera to record the moment for Facebook; we all smiled, toasted for the camera, and squinted against the bright Caribbean sun.
After draining their glasses, Caitlin and Thomas disappeared, leaving Luciano and I to sip ours in a more cultivated fashion. They returned shortly after, wearing orange and black life vests; they’d rented a double-seater jet-ski for two hours.
Luciano and I watched them speed across the waves, laughing and shouting over the noise of the engine. Luciano poured the remaining wine into my glass, and as I sipped I noticed how happy and relaxed Caitlin looked as she clung onto Thomas, who was extremely competent at driving the speedy little machine.
I had been watching them for a while when I realised that Luciano and I had been sitting in silence for some time. There were very few people I felt comfortable enough to sit with without needing to fill the silence with idle chitchat. That had got me into trouble more than once. When I’d been little, Mum had been a master at standing silently, waiting for me to break down and confess to stealing biscuits or ruining her favourite top or breaking into her emergency chocolate stash. And I always broke down. I’d make a terrible spy. I’d never hold up under torture. They’d just have to look at me and I’d tell them everything I knew.
Somewhat depressingly, my big mouth had got the best of me yet again when I’d tried to apologise to Maria.
In any case, I’d already found ship life quite overwhelming, and my tendency to rattle on without pause wasn’t really helping. So it was nice to discover in Luciano a friend who didn’t make me feel like I had to fill the silence.
Of course, as soon as I noticed the comfortable silence, I felt self-conscious and needed to talk. “So Luciano,” I said, “tell me about your family.”
He smiled as he told me about his large family back in Italy. “My parents are getting a bit older, but they’re wise and kind,” he said, looking a little bit wistful. “My mother is a very good woman. She taught me to respect women and always be a good friend to them. I hope I’ve always followed her advice.”
He drained his glass before he continued. “I have two brothers and two sisters—I’m the middle child. My parents both have several brothers and sisters, and everyone has children, so I have many cousins, nieces, and nephews. Easter and Christmas are big and wonderful celebrations, but it’s very sad I don’t get to attend all of them because of working here.”
No mention of a wife or girlfriend. Not that I was paying attention to such things, of course, seeing as I was on a self-imposed ban on men. So i
nstead of admiring the lines of his muscles, I nodded and smiled and listened to his stories about his family’s antics. It was interesting, actually, as I was an only child, as was my mother, and my father only had one brother we didn’t see very often. I’d never been part of a big family like Luciano’s, so our celebrations were very different. Luciano spoke with such passion and tenderness about his family; it was really sweet, but it made me feel a little sad. I’d always wished I had a large family to throw big parties with.
As I listened, I wondered why he had never married or mentioned any serious relationships. Obviously this was great news for all the single ladies out there, but I couldn’t understand how a handsome, kind, well-dressed man in his thirties who was extremely close to his mother hadn’t managed to find someone… Oh! It suddenly dawned on me I should introduce him to Nick! I nearly laughed out loud as I wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me before. It wasn’t that Luciano was at all effeminate—he was actually quite masculine and attractive—but when I thought about it, I guess he did have a certain je ne sais quoi.
Of course, it wasn’t the kind of thing you just come out and ask, because as extroverted as I could be at times, I was still British. I’d found that people tended to volunteer the things they wanted you to know, and I was sure the topic would arise at the right moment.
I’d always had a knack for finding the gay men in a crowd. Maybe Luciano was just who we needed to round out the posse. I already knew Nick would sometimes be in rehearsals and performing other dancer duties, Caitlin often had to shoot gangway or process film, and Luciano only had random half and full days off each fortnight; between the three of them, there should always be someone to hang out with. I could keep busy with friends and avoid getting into any further man-trouble.
Having kept me entertained with stories of his family, Luciano politely asked about mine. I had only just started the short story of my own family when Caitlin and Thomas returned. They ran right up to our seats and shook their wet hair like dogs, and then Thomas grabbed the ice bucket and dumped its contents over the both of us.
I jumped up and shrieked. “Nooooooo, stop!”
The water felt icy cold as it hit my warm skin. Luciano shouted something about Thomas being a bastard and laughed at me as I removed my sopping t-shirt. I noticed my feelings of self-consciousness about my body had disappeared; knowing that Luciano wouldn’t be looking at me in ‘that’ way had made me feel a lot freer.
Though they’d successfully managed to interrupt our relaxed reverie, Caitlin and Thomas had actually returned to give us the life vests and keys to the jet-ski. The second hour of rental was ours.
I chased Luciano down to the beach, feeling like an excited child. My first lunge into the water was a shock—it was freezing. I screamed with surprise, and screamed again when Luciano splashed me. Any feelings of light-headedness I might have had from the wine were banished by the succession of cold water assaults.
Luciano jumped on the jet-ski first and then helped me up onto the seat behind him. Another confident operator, he jumped over waves and turned it in tight circles, spraying water everywhere and making me feel again and again like we were on the verge of tipping over.
“Hey, don’t kill me!” I yelped, holding on for dear life.
“Don’t worry, I’ve done this many times!” he shouted, laughing like a maniac, and then added, “Ellie, it’s much better if you hold on here.” He tapped the outside of my knees. I gripped his thighs with my knees, suddenly feeling slightly more stable. Then I tried to relax and loosened the death grip of my arms from around his waist.
The time flew by quickly and I felt a bit disappointed when Luciano tapped his chunky diving watch to announce we had to go back in. Back on the sand, my legs felt shaky, and I realised I was actually quite tired. Having an early night after work suddenly sound incredibly appealing.
In the taxi back to the ship, Caitlin put her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. Thomas chatted with the taxi driver, while Luciano watched the township flash by, occasionally turning around to smile at us. I realised Seth hadn’t been mentioned once during our conversation on the beach. I could have pumped Luciano for information, but truthfully, it hadn’t occurred to me, and even if it had, I wouldn’t have wanted to spoil the moment.
We got caught in a bit of passenger traffic back on the dock and I barely had time for a quick shower before I had to race up to the Pic Stop. Justin was outside with his eyes on his watch, frowning as usual, and walked away in a huff when I opened the door bang on opening time.
The night dragged on. I was dreading the following long day at sea, when I would be stuck in the shop all day. After less than a week on board, it already felt like I had been there forever, not least because I’d answered the same questions from guests a hundred times over. It was already apparent many of the crew were there for the fun and the money; passengers were something tolerated as a necessary, if sometimes annoying, part of the job.
I was more than a little surprised when Luciano appeared at the shop just before closing.
“Come join us in the crew bar tonight,” he pleaded. I protested that I’d intended to go to bed early. “You can sleep on the plane,” he said, laughing. It was an expression I’d hear many times during my contract.
My objections overruled, I trailed after Luciano after I’d locked up. The crew bar was thick with sweaty, fine-looking men speaking a plethora of languages at the top of their voices. I stopped in the door, stunned by the higher than average presence of the male half of the species. There were dark haired, tanned guys with white teeth and neat clothing speaking Italian; tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, Aryan-type specimens, the tell-tale sing-song in their voices giving away the fact they hailed from Norway and Sweden; and drinking vodka in the corner were a cavalry of hulking men with bulging biceps, speaking something I guessed was probably Russian. The testosterone level was so high, I felt like I’d walked into an episode of The Bachelorette on speed.
“The officers’ bar is closed tonight,” Luciano explained, his mouth close to my ear. His breath tickled my neck. “Fire hazard. Everyone has come here instead. Mostly you are seeing officers.”
I hadn’t even known there was an officers’ bar, but given how spectacular some of them looked, I wondered if I had been too hasty in writing off the possibility of meeting Mr Right. Or, hell, even Mr. Right Now.
If I was going to be honest with myself, I knew I’d just decided to cut men out of my life because I was hurt and afraid. And that was stupid. I wasn’t going to let Seth, Maria, or anybody else ruin my cruise ship experience. I was here for fun, dammit. I could advance my career and sample the international man-cuisine at the same time. That was entirely doable. Anyway, what was the point in wasting this opportunity? As my father had always said, “You’re only young once, my darling.” I was quite sure he hadn’t been talking about men, but the intent was surely the same.
“Bella, do you see anything you like?” asked Luciano, sounding a bit hesitant. I imagined he was cautious about introducing me to someone new, in case he turned out to be one of the bastards he had described earlier.
I looked around eagerly, like a tourist in Rome’s Gelateria del Teatro…what flavour should I choose? “That one,” I said, a little too loudly, pointing at one of the blonds drinking white beer. He’d been the first one I’d noticed when we’d walked in. His horn-rimmed glasses and rolled-up trousers gave him a sexy nerd look, which I’d always been a sucker for. “He looks nice. Smart. And a bit quieter than the rest,” I said, feeling a bit excited. My vow to take it slow had sailed out the window without a second thought.
Luciano paused, the corner of his mouth twisting into a slight frown. “Hmmmmmmm. I’m not so sure, Ellie. I know him a little, and now that I know you better, I don’t think he’s your type. I could have told you that about Seth, too, if I knew you before.”
I mock-pouted in disappointment at his first comment and ignored the second one. “Hmmmmm,” was about all
I could muster. I knew how stupid I sounded. One minute I was shocked at Seth’s departure and the next I was salivating over a Ken doll. Caitlin was right that ship life moves fast; I already felt like I’d been here for weeks rather than a matter of days.
Luciano was staring at me, studying my reaction. I must have looked a bit pathetic, because his stance weakened a little. “If you really want to meet him,” he said at last, “I can introduce you. We’ll talk to him and see what you think.”
I held back my applause and tried to look cool.
On the walk over to his group, I had an attack of nerves. Had I suddenly developed a toned midsection and thighs that didn’t resemble cauliflower sausages? That would be a no. Shit. A fit guy like the sexy nerd I’d singled out wasn’t going to fancy me. I grabbed Luciano’s arm. “Let’s get a drink first.”
At the bar, Jock’s face lit up when he saw me. “What can I get for you, lass?” he asked. “Wine?”
“Something that will give me nerves of steel, please,” I said, aware of how ridiculous I sounded.
“Och, got your eye on somebody, hey?” Jock asked with a laugh, cocking an eyebrow like a cartoon character. “Don’t tell me it’s one of them officers.” His light-hearted expression slid away as he directed his next comment at Luciano. “I’ve often wondered why you come into this bar so much when you have a perfectly grand one of your own.” His jaw clenched. “Tonight you brought all your mates, I see.”
“Si, only because you are the best bartender on the ship.” Luciano said, winking at Jock. Jock narrowed his eyes and looked away.
“I’m just socialising,” I blurted out, interrupting the awkward situation. I didn’t want Jock to think I was easy, too. So far he didn’t seem to know, or care, about my rapidly disintegrating reputation, and quite frankly I was happy to keep it that way. With that in mind, I was keen to keep him out of the loop with regard to my romantic endeavours.
Sex, Lies, and Cruising Page 8
