“I even did a very sexy dance up in the disco,” she whined to Jacoline, “but he did not take any notice of me.”
I muttered “hmmph” under my breath, and realised almost immediately that Maria had heard; her head came up and her eyes narrowed as she saw me.
“Why are you listening to us, gringa?” spat Maria. “You do not have any friends to have dinner with?"
I kept looking at my plate, feeling my eyes welling up with tears. I hated confrontation; I didn’t have the nasty streak necessary to fight back.
“She’s got me, biatch,” said Caitlin, slamming her plate down on the table. “Stop being a bully.”
I smiled at her gratefully, but still felt a little on edge. Jacoline, looking decidedly uncomfortable, got up to get something else to eat.
“So, I hear you’ve been chasing after some guy,” said Caitlin, pointing her fork at Maria. “Are you still on your quest to find a rich passenger?”
Maria glared at her with venom in her eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Good luck with that,” Caitlin said, laughing. Shaking her head, she changed the subject, effectively turning her back on Maria.
“So, roomie, you wanna come to the officers’ bar later? Gabriel and I are meeting for drinks after we both finish work.”
Glad of the diversion, I happily agreed, and it was hours and several rounds of drinks later that I finally stumbled back to the cabin. Caitlin had buggered off with Gabriel, leaving me with an empty cabin yet again.
I’d barely made it through my bedtime routine when the unlocked door banged open and Nick stormed into the room.
“Princess, you are not fucking going to believe what I just found out,” he said, a furious expression on his face. He sank down onto my bed and patted the mattress beside him. “Sit.”
No good sentence ever started with somebody telling you to sit down…so I sat down and took a deep breath.
Chapter Nine
“My asshole friend in New York decided to give the room to his brother at the end of the semester. I have nowhere to live and can’t afford anything else.” Nick banged his fist against the wall, which took me by surprise; I’d been on board for over a month and never seen him angry.
“Oh, shit, Nick, that’s total bollocks,” I said. Nick pretty much defined himself by his Broadway ambitions and this was a huge blow to his plans.
“Now my parents will want me to come home,” Nick wailed, “and I’ll be stuck packing clothes and bags into shipping cartons every day for the rest of eternity.” He dragged me into a desperate bear hug. “I’ll kill myself before I let that happen.”
I knew what it felt like to have awful news, but I also tried to be pragmatic in a hopeless situation, or at least I was quite good at doing that when it was somebody else’s problem rather than my own. “Shall I help you look online for another flat to share? Surely there’s cheap rooms all over the place, or at least if you’re willing to live in the Bronx or Queens…”
Nick pulled away from me and punched me playfully in the arm. “Now, I’m not that desperate, Princess,” he said. I saw the beginning of a smile twitch at the corner of Nick’s mouth. Perhaps there was light at the end of the tunnel.
“Come on, sweetie, we’ll work something out,” I said. “Don’t whip out the sleeping pills just yet. We’ll get you to New York.”
“Okay,” he said, steeling himself with a deep breath and a flick of his hair. “I guess I’m off to search Craigslist, then. Maybe I can find something else. Nothing quite as fabulous, I’m sure…but I’ll see what’s out there.” Nick excused himself as quickly as he had arrived.
I crawled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. It seemed like moments later I woke up to Caitlin tickling my foot, looking extremely cheeky and very pleased with herself.
“Geez, Caitlin, I’ve only been asleep five minutes,” I groaned, turning over and burying my face in the pillow.
“It’s morning, woman!” she said.
It was so hard to tell in these windowless cabins. I was still foggy from being woken up, but Caitlin was too impatient to wait for me to wake up properly and ploughed on with her story. “I’ve just had another all-night bonk fest with Gabriel,” she said happily. “Well, nearly all night. We decided to fit in some sleep this time…we spooned.” A blissful look spread across her face. “It was so awesome.”
As she explained the finer details of their escapades, I rapidly woke up. Complex descriptions of positions I didn’t think anybody actually tried, kinky role play, bondage, and the sticking of things in places that should never be entered… just Caitlin’s way of warming up. If there was anything she hadn’t tried, I’d have been shocked. She made my experimentation and exploration seem tame.
“Oh, and dude,” Caitlin said, prodding me to get my attention, “Borys is finishing up this San Juan, and the new guy’s name is Cooper. Ruby did a contract with him before and said he’s awesome… Really helpful, lovely, and hard-working, apparently. Most senior photogs are drunks, sleazes, or money-hungry bastards, so it’ll be nice to have a good guy for a change!”
I nodded in agreement as she started undressing for the shower, though I wasn’t sure I really wanted to take Ruby’s recommendation of anyone. It would be nice to have a nice new team member on board. A new photog, especially a nice one, might be able to help me with my photography portfolio—maybe I could ask him to look over my photos, give his professional opinion. I thought I’d ask him once he’d settled in.
I didn’t have too long to wait. The new senior photographer waltzed onto the ship next San Juan. Most of the team were busy on a Sunday, shooting embarkations, so I was sent to meet him. I was reminded of my own first day, except this time I was the all-knowing veteran.
“How you doin’?” he said, shaking my hand gently. “I’m Cooper.”
Average height, thick glasses, and a mop of unruly sandy hair: he certainly looked harmless. Almost boring, really. Certainly not lady-killer material, which was a relief, and despite my distrust of Ruby, Cooper made a good first impression. I gave him the same tour Caitlin had given me; as Cooper wasn’t interested in spending time in his cabin yet, I took him on a tour of the upper levels. Conversation flowed easily. He introduced himself to nearly every member of staff and crew we passed. He was friendly to everybody and had equal time and enthusiasm for both men and women. He didn’t seem remotely sleazy, and, despite his friendliness, he was never inappropriate or flirtatious.
Cooper told me his main interest on this cruise was seeing the Caribbean islands. “It’s one of the few places I haven’t been yet. My life is all about travel and photography,” he said. “I love cruise ship work, because it pays me to do both. Very different from my previous job,” he added.
Before I could ask him about it, we encountered an elderly group of passengers, and Cooper stopped to chat.
One of the men took Cooper’s hand and shook it vigorously. “And where are you from, young man?”
“I’m from Vancouver, Canada, sir,” Cooper said respectfully.
I watched as Cooper transformed from friendly to truly charismatic, answering questions, making witty comments, and allowing the old men to slap him on the back and the women to cling to his arm. A smile remained on his face throughout, and whenever someone spoke, he’d lean in to hear better, for all intents and purposes appearing entirely engrossed in what they were saying.
I stood off to the side, feeling like a bit of a gooseberry. I knew I should have made an effort and joined in, but apart from being suddenly worried they wouldn’t notice me, I was also in awe of the effect Cooper was having on the group, and wanted to watch. It was really interesting how such an ordinary-looking young guy could be equally popular with men and women, young and old. It was a rare skill. He reminded me of a politician: smooth, savvy, always coming out with the right thing at the right moment, and gently deflecting when he’d prefer not to answer a question.
Cooper caught my eye and winked, and then made hi
s goodbyes to the group, carefully extracting himself from the grip of a particularly wizened woman.
“Nice people,” he commented as we headed off again.
“You were impressive with them,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.
“Aw, thanks,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I think it’s ingrained from my days in the military.”
The mysterious former occupation, no doubt. He really was full of surprises. I tilted my head, encouraging him to elaborate.
“Well actually, it wasn’t exactly the military,” he said. “It was the Protective Policing Service. It’s part of the Canadian Mounted Police. We provided security details for the Canadian Royal Family, the Governor General, the Prime Minister, and a bunch of other Canadian and visiting politicians.” He casually looked out to sea, as though protecting the heads of country was really nothing special.
“Wow, really?” I was impressed. I had never even heard of such a job and I never would have pegged him as part of a security force. His build didn’t exactly scream ‘ex-police’. Perhaps that was why he’d left.
Cooper explained further. “I mostly looked after the Governor General,” he said, “but sometimes we also had to take care of the Prime Minister. I had to travel with them overseas all the time, always on government aircraft.”
No wonder he’d reminded me of a politician; he must have got particularly skilled at schmoozing with all of those years of close contact with people like that.
We had reached the buffet, and Cooper motioned to a small table near the wall of windows overlooking the docks. I sat down and then promptly leaned forward, eager to hear more. I’d never met anybody with such an exciting past. It was very intriguing.
“Why on earth are you here now?” I said, wondering why someone would give up all that excitement and prestige. Cruise ships were definitely exciting to me, but the job certainly didn’t compare to being responsible for the safety of national dignitaries.
“It just got so tiring, you know, flying around all the time,” he said. “We always had to be prepared to take a bullet for your man.” He shrugged. “Besides, I wanted to see a bit more of the world, without worrying about His Excellency.” He gave a mock salute and took a little bow in his seat.
“Who is the Governor General these days anyway?” I asked hesitantly, a bit embarrassed by my lack of political knowledge.
Cooper laughed and said, “It’s okay, Ellie, you don’t need to pretend to be interested in all that boring stuff. Let’s talk about you.”
I hesitated, still taking in his story. One would imagine that getting into such a special branch of police would take years of training and preparation. It was probably a highly desirable position; very competitive, you would think. And yet, here he was on a cruise ship, throwing away years of service. Why not take a military desk job? It didn’t make any sense. But why would he lie? Did he think his life wasn’t exciting enough as it was? I would err on the side of believing him, but my bullshit radar was on high alert.
I stared at him intently—he had such an innocent face. Maybe I was wrong.
I breezed through a brief history of my life, including my love of photography. “It’s been a passion of mine since I was a kid—I used to snap pictures of my dad slow dancing with my mum when they thought I wasn't around. I spent hours with my Nan in her damp darkroom, developing grainy black and white images of her fluffy black dog with three legs… I was even one of those embarrassing people who ripped pages out of photography magazines and Herb Ritts’ books and stuck them on the back of the toilet door.” Cooper laughed. “I’m hoping to have a career in professional photography, anyway. I’d love to shoot for National Geographic…or anyone, really. I’ve been working on my portfolio since I’ve been on the ship.”
“Really? That’s awesome,” Cooper said. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”
Hooray! I didn’t even have to ask. “That would be great,” I said. “It would be great to get your opinion.”
“A good buddy of mine shoots for National Geographic sometimes,” he added. “I should totally hook you up with him.” My heart did a little leap. Maybe my doubts had been wrong—Cooper was definitely the man to know.
“That would be absolutely brilliant,” I said. “I’m still working on my portfolio, but I’d love to chat to your mate.”
“It’s a done deal, my friend,” Cooper said, smiling. “You just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll make it happen.”
I’d already been feeling pretty positive about my portfolio, and the extra encouragement made me extra determined to keep working on it in my spare time. I’d have to do more exploring at every port—find places off the beaten path. And then, maybe… National Geographic! I could hardly believe it.
My head was spinning as I finished giving Cooper the tour. A few decks later, I dropped him at his cabin and headed back to my own room for a break.
After a lovely Sunday afternoon sleep, I was laying in my bunk, enjoying the solitude, when Caitlin burst in and flicked on the light. I sat up straight and stared, alarmed; her eyes were wide and desperate.
She crumped into a heap on the floor. “Gabriel slept with a passenger.”
“What? Today?” Was everyone sleeping with more than one person on this ship?
“No, yesterday, while I was working,” she said, clearly distraught. I slid off my bunk and sat next to her on the floor. “We were walking through the atrium together this morning, and this middle aged Botox queen, apparently doing back-to-back cruises, started fawning all over him.” She sounded on the verge of tears, which was more alarming than anything else; Caitlin didn’t cry. “The motherfucker didn’t even try to pretend nothing had happened.”
“What did you do?” I asked. I could have throttled the bastard for betraying Caitlin. I’d realised pretty quickly he wasn’t just another shag for her, and I was sure he knew it.
“When I tried to talk about it, he told me not to overreact,” she said dismally. “That we were both as bad as each other.” She shook her head. “I know that’s normally true, dude, but you know how much I like him. He might even have been The One.”
Well, shit. I’d known she was really into him, but I hadn’t quite realised how much. She normally held onto new men for as long as the loan period of a new release DVD, so announcing she’d thought he might be The One was worrying.
“Caitlin, tell me what I can do, sweetie. Do you want me to come and talk to him with you?”
She sat silently for a moment, pondering the idea. Then she shook her head slowly. “No, dude, thanks for the offer, but I don’t think I should. It won’t really help anyway.”
I suspected that was probably true, remembering Nick’s warning about Gabriel. Now was not the time to remind her of this, however, and in any case I was hardly in a position to advise anybody about their love life.
Caitlin took a deep breath, let it out, and launched into a new subject. “Let’s hire Harleys in St Martin this week!”
“Brilliant idea,” I said. I’d always been jealous at how quickly she’d been able to bounce back from disappointment, but this time I was still a little worried. At the moment, though, it seemed the best thing I could do was go along with her plans. St Martin motorbike hire was legendary, and a day trip cruising around the island with the wind in my hair was definitely the best way to enjoy the sights of the island.
There was only one problem. “Caity, I don’t know how to ride a motorbike.”
“Ah, yes, my friend,” she said, mimicking Yoda. “This is why we need some men. Do you have anyone you want to ask?”
I remembered Jock’s suggestion about meeting up. “I’ll ask Jock to round up a few of his mates,” I said. “He was saying we should get a group together.”
Caitlin smiled suggestively, and I hit her in the arm. “It’s not like that,” I objected. “He’s just a really lovely guy. Maybe in another situation there could be something…but not here. Anyway, I’m not interested.” Which was mostl
y true. Jock had all the hallmarks of a great boyfriend, but even if he had shown any interest in me—which he hadn’t—he was the kind of serious, steady man I’d want in about five years, when it was time to settle down.
Jock was more than receptive to the idea and promised to not only round up a few of his mates, but to book the bikes as well. Sadly, it was five days away. Luckily, I had started to settle into the groove of things. First night of the cruise, everybody was excited, exploring the ship and asking a million questions. The next morning, they lined up at security to disembark in St Thomas, eager to see the island, drink cocktails, and buy a fridge magnet for their collection.
Martinique was always a challenge, because we didn’t arrive until nearly midday, and I had to work in the morning. The first couple of weeks I’d forgotten and stayed up later than was ideal the night before, and the next morning had been a nightmare. A never-ending stream of customers keen to see their first digital prints and stock up on memory cards for the ensuing week was hard enough to deal with without being hung over and short on sleep.
By Barbados and Antigua, passengers swanned around the ship with confidence. It was always a blessing when St Martin rolled around.
And this week had been long indeed. Monday started out with a hand slamming down on the Pic Stop’s glass service counter. The hand belonged to a hefty middle-aged woman breathing so heavily I thought she was going to start spewing flames.
“Excuse me, young lady,” she said, leaning in until she was about six inches from my face, “didn’t you hear me say I wanted DOUBLE prints last night?” She glared and added, with the distinct punch of a New York accent, “It’s not rocket science, you know.”
Case in point.
I took a deep breath in what I hoped was a subtle manner and flicked to the back of the envelope she’d handed me, where the second set of prints were cleverly hiding.
Not at all flummoxed, she immediately bellowed, “Well, that’s a stupid damn place for you to put them. Here, give them to me!” She snatched them from my hands and walked out of the shop.
Sex, Lies, and Cruising Page 13
