by Ava Dunne
“They’re married.”
“And?”
“That’s what they do. They’re married. They get their husbands ready for business trips and attend functions and,” realization dawned on me, “oh.”
“Exactly,” said Fawn. “That’s what Jack’s mom did, that’s what his sisters do. There’s nothing wrong with that choice, if that’s what floats their boat, but that’s not you. You want a partnership, not to subvert your whole life for your husband. He wants someone who believes partnership is doing everything to further his career, not each of you taking turns to support each other.”
“Even in my relationships, I always want my boyfriend to put aside what he wants to do and put me and my art first,” Freddie admitted.
“I can’t imagine Alyssa doing that,” I said. “She’s ambitious. I’ve only ever seen her put herself first.”
“She wants the financial security of a well-placed husband, and she’s willing to pretend to be what he wants to get that,” Bianca said. “You weren’t.”
“But that’s dishonest. And so, I don’t know, medieval.”
“In medieval times, women were bought and sold for family name and prestige,” said Fawn. “Then, it evolved into some women deciding they wanted to decide to whom they sold themselves, so they’d pick a guy and transform into what he wanted so she could gain that security. I can’t see it changing.”
“Ick,” was my retort.
“There you go again, showing off that Ivy League education,” Freddie teased.
“Do you want help packing up his stuff?” Bianca asked.
“No, thanks, I’ll be okay.” I shook my head. “He didn’t leave much here. That should have tipped me off.”
“He didn’t like Brooklyn,” said Bianca. “He felt it was beneath him.”
“His Manhattan apartment’s luxurious, but those floor-to-ceiling glass walls freaked me out.” I shivered. “I always felt like I was flashing people, even when I had all my clothes on.”
“Seriously,” Fawn began picking up and putting down containers, looking for more dregs of food, “you’re better off out of it.”
“Did all of you hate him? And never tell me?” I asked, stroking Ed’s glossy head.
“We didn’t hate him, exactly,” said Bianca, “and we knew you loved him, so we accepted him. He was good-looking, and he treated you well most of the time. But he took you for granted the past few months.”
“He acted like you were already married instead of still courting you,” said Fawn. She gave a chirp of triumph as she found some shrimp fried rice and dug in. “I never thought he’d cheat on you or dump you.”
“Now what do I do?” I fretted. “No job, no wedding — I’m kind of lost.”
“It’s not like I’m going to kick you out,” said Fawn.
“I still have some money.” I noted my defensive tone and took a breath, trying to release the tension.
Fawn ignored her. “Both Bianca and I are relieved we don’t have to start interviewing for a new roommate. The three of us muddle along pretty well here. Along with Freddie, when he crashes between art colony residencies, sleeping in his studio, or between boyfriends.”
“What do you want to do?” said Bianca. “What have you always wanted to do?”
“I wanted to be Nancy Drew when I was little,” I admitted. “Our hair was the same color, so I thought of her as a big sister, who wasn’t as mean to me as my real sister, Edwina. I even used to run around calling my hair ‘titian’, the way they did in those books with the yellow spines. But me? A detective? I need to name things, to know them, eye contact, honesty, but I don’t like messing in people’s business. I love teaching yoga. It was a stop-gap when the event planning firm went out of business. But I sort of fell into event planning after college, anyway. I got a liberal arts degree because I love the arts, not because I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I’m much happier doing yoga and teaching it than I was running around in dresses and high heels dealing with rich people who got the vapors if the napkins were the wrong color. I couldn’t feel that was important, even when there was lots of money involved. I loved the yoga teacher training, attending workshops, learning more, and then teaching it. I feel so alive. I feel like I’m finally myself, solid in my own skin. Teaching yoga, trying to live it, that feels right.”
“Can you book yourself into Kripalu for awhile?” Fawn asked. “Take some time to refresh and retreat. Take workshops and have spa treatments. Walk around in the Berkshires and think for a bit.”
“I have to look at the numbers, but maybe I could do a week or so.” I frowned.
“What if we all chip in?” Bianca offered.
“I’d feel uncomfortable.”
“We were going to chip in to buy you a wedding present,” Fawn said. “So why not let us chip in for a, a —” she ran out of steam.
“Non-wedding present,” Freddie suggested.
“Liberation present,” Bianca tossed in.
“I’ll think about it,” I promised. “I’m not sure of anything at this moment.”
“How’s your family taking it?” Freddie asked.
“Better than I thought. Mom wants me to join her in Taos, Victoria thinks I should come over to London for a bit and then we’ll take a quick jaunt to Paris or maybe Venice—”
“That sounds good,” said Freddie.
“Edwina’s somewhere on a dig in South America. I left a voice mail and sent her an email, but who knows when she’ll be back in contact? She couldn’t stand Jack, so I’m sure she’ll have something cutting and funny to say about it. Then I’ll burst into tears and she’ll feel bad. That sort of sums up our relationship, so I’d rather not talk to her for awhile. Rick is doing something mysterious in DC again—”
“Something sexy and mysterious,” Fawn sighed. At their looks, she shrugged. “You all know I’ve got it bad for Sophie’s brother.”
“What about Maurice? Your boyfriend?” Freddie challenged.
“I like him fine,” said Fawn. “I don’t see spending the rest of my life with him. Before you say I sound like Jack, Maurice feels the same way. We both know this is temporary.”
“Today’s about Sophie,” Bianca steered the conversation back. “What about Gamma Batchelder?”
“Gamma Batchelder —” I gasped. I’d forgotten.
“What?” Bianca asked.
“Gamma Batchelder was right!”
“Isn’t Gamma Batchelder always right?” Fawn mimicked.
“But, but, you don’t understand. I was sure I’d prove her wrong once, finally, today. I tripped up the stairs going to the studio. Gamma Batchelder says if you trip going up the stairs, you won’t get married this year.”
“Then I’m never getting married,” said Bianca. “I trip up the stairs here at least once a day.”
“I laughed to myself, thinking how wrong she was, but she was right!” I quivered. “Oh, no!”
“Now what? Goose walk over your grave?” Fawn asked.
“Four things. Gamma says bad things come in threes. I broke my boot heel, a cab splattered me with mud, Jelena fired me, and Jack called off the wedding. That’s four things. Jack started a new set of three. Two more awful things are going to happen!”
“Can’t we light a candle, hold hands and chant it away or something?” Freddie asked. “Bianca? You know how to do that sort of stuff.”
“Oh, cut it out,” Bianca said, as though he wore her out, “although I could probably come up with something if you’re really worried.”
“I can’t take two more bad things.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to leave the house. But if I stay in the house, maybe I’ll set it on fire or fall down the stairs.”
Fawn put up a hand. “Let’s analyze this. Maybe the broken boot heel and the mud splatter were only one thing. That would mean breaking up with Jack was the third thing.”
“No, breaking the boot heel happened in the subway station. I got splashed when I came up to street level at 14th Street.”
“You could stretch it, make it all of a piece,” Freddie suggested.
“That’s not how it works.”
“Alyssa,” said Bianca. “Alyssa is the key to this. If Jack started the next set of three, he broke up with you, but then you found out it was Alyssa.”
“That’s only two.” My lower lip trembled. Suddenly, I was five years old again. “That means something bad is still going to happen.”
“Maybe it’ll only be your severance check bouncing,” Freddie suggested. “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
“I’ve got it,” said Fawn. “You broke your boot heel. You got splattered by a cab. You tripped going up the stairs. That’s one set of three. Jelena fired you, Jack broke up with you, Alyssa’s the one who stole him. Second set of three. You’re home free.”
“Tripping up the stairs is an omen, not an event.”
“They cleared out your locker,” said Bianca. “Which means they planned this. Replace tripping up the stairs with the locker clear out, and you’ve still got two complete sets of three.”
“But what if there are three sets—” Freddie started.
“Stop!” Fawn and Bianca shouted together, startling the kittens, who dashed into the kitchen, and waking up Ed, who barked before settling his head against my chest again.
“Okay. Two complete sets of three. Let’s do it that way.” I nodded. Maybe it was cheating, but at least I’d feel better until the other shoe dropped.
My phone rang and we looked at each other.
“Do not say it.” Fawn shot a look at Freddie, who lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“The number looks vaguely familiar,” I said. I picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Sophie?”
“Yes.”
“Rowena. From yoga.”
“Oh, hi! Thanks again for being so supportive this morning.” I smiled at my friends to reassure them.
“I’m in a bind here, and I wondered if you would help me.”
“I will if I can, sure.” I adjusted my position, sliding Ed onto the settee beside me, so I could breathe. He was putting on weight, cadging extra kibble from whomever was home.
“I know you’re really busy with the wedding and all—”
“Actually, the wedding’s cancelled.” I was proud of myself, sounding so calm.
“Oh? Oh. I don’t know whether to say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘congratulations’.”
“I’m not sure myself at this point.”
“Maybe this is the right opportunity at the right time. I’ve got a boat going out in two days, and I need someone to come in and trail my regular yoga instructor. I wondered if you’d be willing to jump in and shadow her for ten days? Normally, you’d have to go through a whole process with HR in Miami and a month of training sessions, but we’re in a bind. I managed to get a screen capture of your bio on the yoga studio’s website before they deleted it. According to that, you’ve got a YMCA Group Exercise to Music certification, that’s a big help. Red Cross Certification in CPR, Children’s CPR, and basic first aid. Excellent. Corporate HQ said they’d trust my judgment when I said I wanted to bring you in. Ten days, Bahamas & Florida.”
“Is your regular yoga instructor leaving?”
Rowena’s hesitation worried me, but she jumped in. “Most cruise ship jobs have more applicants than openings. But yoga instructors are specialized. We have three ships to cover, and only three instructors amongst them. We need to expand our staff. Yoga is the fastest-growing activity on our line. I’d like to see if you’re a good fit as an on-call floater. People get sick. They get hurt. They quit.”
“I don’t want to do to someone else what was just done to me.”
“I won’t put you in that position. I’m hearing second-hand and third-hand rumors that one of our instructors might be moving on. I’m trying to cover my ass.”
Why not? “I’m going to say sure!”
“Can you be at my office at nine a.m. to go over paperwork and expectations?” Rowena asked.
“Yes.” I waved my free hand around. Fawn looked at me for a minute, rushed into the kitchen, grabbed the magnetic pad holding the shopping list from the fridge, rummaged for a pen, and handed them to me. “Can you give me the address?”
Rowena rolled it off, I scribbled, we exchanged pleasantries, and hung up. I faced my friends in triumph. “I just landed a job on a cruise ship going to the Bahamas!”
…
“I take care of the VIP clients. Not some pipsqueak creampuff foisted on me for a mercy gig.”
I looked up from where I was scrubbing the yoga mats with cleanser. “I think I’ve just been insulted.” Insecure, I named it. I was talking about myself as much as about her. Day three of ten, and we were already at odds.
Geri Smith frowned at me. “This isn’t about you.”
“If I’m the pipsqueak creampuff, yes, it’s about me.”
“I told you, you don’t need to clean the mats after every class. They don’t have time to dry.”
“Geri, Kristina Murray asked that someone else take over her private morning sessions.” Hans Mueller, who ran the ship’s fitness center, folded his muscular arms across his broad chest and glowered down at her. Even his crew cut bristled. I was intimidated, and I wasn’t the focus of his displeasure. But then, Hans intimidated me even when he smiled. “The only other individual qualified to teach is Sophie. Sophie will take over Ms. Murray’s private sessions as of tomorrow morning.”
Geri, made of sterner stuff than I was, glared at Hans. She was taller than me, as most people were, built like a cheerleader rather than a typical yoga instructor, but far shorter than Hans. “Look, I know about the nepotism involved. Rowena Callahan feels sorry because her favorite land-based yoga instructor is fired from her studio and dumped by her fiancé in the same day. Instead of offering her a free cruise, she keeps her busy with a fake job. But to give her my VIP passengers—”
“They don’t belong to you; they are guests on this ship,” Hans said, in a practiced tone that gave me hope this wasn’t the first time they had the argument. “We give them what they want.”
Geri’s eyes narrowed. “Did Kristina ask for a change, or was it that husband of hers?”
“The change was requested. It will happen. Sophie goes up to the Sanctuary Suite tomorrow at 9:30.”
“I’m talking to Jacques.” She whirled to me. “You take the two o’clock Pilates class.”
“Yes.” I nodded, managing to swallow the “ma’am” before it got me fired from what Geri thought was a non-existent job.
Geri stomped out of the yoga studio. I was worried her bare feet would leave scars on the beautiful bamboo floors. I followed her out of the studio proper, Hans behind me, and sent a longing glance at the small, sunny room beside it. It was a jumble of extra cushions, blankets, and other paraphernalia. A messy closet without a door.
“I don’t want to hear your meditation room idea again,” Geri growled.
“I’ll do all the work.”
“We don’t keep you busy enough?” Geri snapped. “Have to take care of that.”
A man intercepted her, but she pushed past. “I can’t deal with you right now, Gary,” she said, sliding into her shoes.
“But—”
“No.” She stalked off. The man named Gary sighed and walked away.
“I don’t mean to cause problems,” I said.
“You don’t. She does.” Hans gazed after her, a grim expression on his face, then put his attention back on me. “Do you know Kristina Murray?”
“The movie star? I know her work. I don’t know her.”
“She and her husband, Orrin Flaherty, are in the Sanctuary Suite on the Penthouse Deck. They’re here on a personal vacation, not an appearance for the cruise line, so they’re keeping their presence quiet. I give Mr. Flaherty private sessions in the weight room, but Ms. Murray wants private yoga sessions up in the suite. You’ll work with her every day for the rest of the cruise, including po
rt days.”
I nodded.
Hans smiled. It brightened his face, although I still wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley. “Shall I draw you a map so you can find the suite?”
I unzipped my wristband and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I carry one around, because I still haven’t figured out the ship.”
He laughed, but before we could say anymore, the loudspeakers crackled. I couldn’t make out any words except “lifeboats.”
“It’s a drill, don’t worry.” Hans took my arm. He was gentler than he looked.
“Another one? I don’t think I remember where my muster station is.” I locked the door to the studio. Cutting off the daylight streaming off the water and through the windows made the interior corridor eerie and dark, and I blinked, trying to adjust my eyes.
Hans laughed again, and led me out into the stream of employees and guests headed for the decks. “We’ll assume you are with me. We’ll find out when they take roll call.”
The activity at the muster stations intimidated me. The passengers assembled on the upper decks of the Charisma; the staff members not running stations, who would be among the last evacuated, convened on lower decks. I stuck close to Hans. My experience with Geri so far led me to believe that, in an emergency, she’d let me drown. Hans scared me, but he didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d walk away from trouble.
I heard voices drift down from the passenger decks, where assigned crew gave the safety demonstrations, taught passengers how to put on life jackets, which lifeboats to board, etc. On our deck, although staff was quiet, they waited around for the other demonstrations to finish.
“Do you know how to use the vest?”
I jumped and whirled around, nearly crushing Hans’s instep. The man who loomed over me had shaggy, sun-kissed brown hair, and his eyes were a clear, sharp green. Eyes, especially men’s eyes, were my weakness. Too bad his personality didn’t match those eyes. I’d seen him around the ship and in the crew dining room. The way he carried himself reminded me of my older brother and his friends, who worked in military intelligence. They had an ease, a grace, a purpose when they moved. I was envious of and a little frightened by that level of self-confidence. This man, my cruise ship colleague, had an impatience and a swift retort to those around him that put me off.
