LaClaire Nights: An After Hours Novel

by Dori Lavelle

  Even as I do my best not to be affected by Dustin’s message, I can’t lift the cloud that’s pressing me into the nearby chair, where I sit, massaging my temples. I can’t help thinking about what everyone is saying about me back home.

  Half the town claims to be Christian, with the young and old attending church, or prayer groups, participating in church events, putting a hand on a grieving widow’s shoulder. Christians, my ass. They’re all hypocrites, who secretly enjoy a juicy piece of gossip, a good scandal. It’s been awhile since something got their tongues wagging.

  The last scandal had been two years ago, when eighteen-year-old Daisy Lansford was impregnated by a married man. With all the gossip flying around, she dropped out of school and soon after, her devastated mother rushed her out of town. Many residents called the kid a disgrace to the community. My mother was one of them.

  I’m sure many of them are wondering whether I’ve done the same thing, run away for good. If I had enough money to start over someplace else, I probably would. I’m not in the mood to return to a toxic environment. I have enough time to think about what my future holds while on this ship. Not much time is left for me to pine after a man who could end up hurting me.

  I bend to gather the dirty towels from the foot of the massage table, and head out to the waiting room. Jillian has also just finished a massage session and is enjoying a glass of orange juice at the minibar. She turns around when she hears me enter.

  “Where’s your Prince Charming?” She asks, grinning.

  I swat her arm, not at all offended. She’s good for my mood. “Having a little nap. I thought I’d give him a few moments to dream before sending him back into the stressful world.”

  Jillian rinses out her glass of orange juice and turns to me with a curious expression. “Are you okay? You look kind of . . . off.”

  “I’m fine. At least I’ll get there. Dustin called. You know how that gets me riled up.”

  “You have to let the jerk go, once and for all.” She wags a finger at me. “You promised to stop letting him get to you.”

  “I know.” I twist my braid around my free hand. “I wish it were that easy. If only there were a switch one could flick.”

  “Yeah, and it would cost an arm and a leg.” Jillian crosses her arms in front of her ample breasts. “By the way, your next appointment is coming in exactly five minutes. You might want to wake the guy up, or use my room. I don’t have anyone coming in for another hour.”

  “Thanks.” I hug the dirty towels to my body. “But it’s fine. I’ll stay in my room. My guy has overstayed his welcome, anyway.” I turn to walk out of the waiting room but Jillian calls me before I reach the door.

  “We’re stopping over in Nassau tomorrow. A few of us are going on a bus tour. Want to come along? It’s two hours of beautiful scenery. It might take your mind off that ex of yours.”

  “I don’t know.” As rotten as my mood is right now, the only thing I want to do is lock myself in my cabin to hide under the covers.

  “Come on.” Her face folds with disappointment. “You said you came here to find yourself. Nassau would be a perfect place to start. Come out and have a little fun. All work and no play stinks.”

  “You know what?” I square my shoulders and smile. “You’re right. Screw Dustin. Hello, Nassau.”

  “I adore that new attitude.” Jillian reaches for the towels in my hands. “Get ready for your appointment. I’ll take these to the laundry room for you. I was headed there anyway.”

  4

  Grace

  There’s a spring in my step when I board the ship again, navigating the many hallways on my way to my cabin. Choosing to go on the bus tour with Jillian and Lynn had been what I needed to get my mind off things for a while. I had so much fun. Before today, I can’t even remember the last time I laughed until my stomach hurt.

  Besides having fun with the ladies, Nassau was worth seeing. The beautiful piece of paradise, with its historic castles and beautiful beaches, took my breath away. I would have missed out if I didn’t go. During the two-hour bus tour I didn’t even mind that I haven’t heard from Bryant, or that Dustin had called many more times. Out there exploring, I felt in control and stronger than I have been in a long time. Or ever. I can handle anything. I might end up having to sift through a lot more crap before getting to where I want to be, but I’m determined to get through it.

  I let myself into my room, exhaustion pressing down on my shoulders. It would probably be a good idea to take a short nap but I’m much too buzzed to fall asleep. The excitement of the day is still surging through my veins like a drug. I’ve never felt more alive. What if I go to sleep only to find, upon waking, that the good feeling has dissipated? Maybe I should do a little exercise or yoga to help me relax.

  Releasing a contented sigh, I dump my handbag on the armchair by the window. I’m about to collapse onto the bed when I notice a parcel on my pillow, expertly wrapped in vintage world map-inspired wrapping paper and a gold and olive ribbon.

  In silence, I survey the object, my fingers hovering over it without touching, as though it were a ticking bomb. My stomach twists at the thought that someone had been inside my room when I was out. The cleaning staff have access to the guest cabins and often do the cleaning when the guests are out, but I’m a member of staff, and we clean our own rooms.

  My heart thuds as I bent to pick it up. I stop when I spot the note written in a doctor-style, cursive handwriting.

  ‘For Grace, from Bryant’

  The words are simple, giving no indication there’s anything romantic behind them. Why then is my pulse racing and my knees weakening the longer I stare at the package? What is it with this guy? Most importantly, how did he get into my room?

  I place a hand on my chest, suck air into my lungs. My fingers are itching to open the package but at the same time I can’t help being nervous about what I’ll find inside.

  I don’t have to open it. No one is holding a gun to my head. I can return the package to Bryant unopened. Except, my curiosity is rearing its head, luring my fingers into tugging at the silk ribbon. The wrapping whispers as I remove it and lift the lid, inhaling a pleasant scent similar to vetiver oil.

  A gasp slips through my lips when I take in the gray and white fabric folded neatly at the bed of the satin-lined box.

  Why is he sending me clothes?

  What if this gift is not meant for me? There’s always a possibility the package was delivered to the wrong cabin. Bryant seemed like the sort of guy who is popular with the ladies. Surely, it’s not farfetched to think he might have a girlfriend or girlfriends on the ship. Maybe these were meant for someone else and he wrote the wrong name on the card.

  I turn the box upside down on the bed, spilling its contents. I lift out the pieces one by one to have a closer look. Workout clothes. Expensive Lycra leggings with a matching crop top.

  Air whooshes out of my lungs. It’s not a mistake at all. This package is meant for me. Bryant and I met at the gym. Is it some kind of message?

  It feels wrong to receive a present from him when we barely know each other. I’m not his girlfriend or anyone else close to him for that matter. It’s crazy to send someone workout clothes after meeting them only for a few minutes. An image of my worn-out, baggy workout clothing hanging to dry in the bathroom flashes in my mind.

  Should I be offended? Whatever the case, this is definitely not the kind of thing I would wear, except for the fact the clothes are black, the color I tend to wear the most, and not some horrid neon color. I know I should return them, but even though the clothes are not my style, I can’t help wondering how something like that would look on me. Since no one is watching, what’s the harm in trying them on once before giving them back? Just for a few moments to see the effect sexy clothing would have on my body. After all, I’m here for an adventure, to try new things, before going back to my monotonous, boring old life.

  I stifle a giggle as I undress. The thought that my mother would have a
heart attack if she saw me wearing something sexy, spurs me on. In some weird way, with my jeans and oversized T-shirt on the floor at my feet, I feel lighter as though my old skin has been shed. The freedom filling my chest is exhilarating. A smile spreads across my face as I pull the tight fabric over my body. The fit is perfect.

  How in the world did Bryant know my size? Is he such an expert when it comes to the ladies that he need only look at them once to guess their size? That fact alone should send me sprinting in the opposite direction. Instead, I walk into the bathroom to admire myself in the full-length mirror behind the door. My breath catches in my throat.

  I’ve never considered myself sexy before, but the clothes look good on me. More than good, in fact. With my hands on my waist, I turn from side to side, appreciating every angle of my body. Needing to go one step further, I reach for the braid hanging down my back and unravel it, setting my blonde curls free.

  The transformation is instant and amazing. And it’s not only external. Observing myself in this light is shifting something within me. I’ve never considered myself beautiful, until now.

  Maybe I should ditch the braid I’ve worn for years and let my hair out more often. With my hair down, my eyes are larger and more vibrant, my face softer and feminine. This side of myself surprises me so much it’s hard to look away.

  A knock on the door makes me jump. Reality smacks me hard in the face, making me feel kind of stupid for believing I could be considered beautiful. Mom always said I have plain looks, like my maternal grandmother. She assured me there’s nothing wrong with being plain, that it’s a blessing as trouble tends to follow beautiful girls.

  I step over the pile of clothes on the floor and head for the door. Jillian said she’d drop by at some point. It would be nice to show her the clothes before I return them to Bryant. Except, she doesn’t know anything about Bryant. My new friends only know about my history with Dustin, the only man I’ve dated, slept with, and married. There’s no need for them to know about Bryant. Why should they? There’s nothing going on between us.

  I’ll tell her I bought the clothes for myself from one of the boutiques on board. She’d be pleased. During the tour, she had agreed with Lynn, who had insisted I needed to go shopping for new clothes, to get me started in my new life.

  I yank the door open with a smile. “Surprise.” The smile drops from my face when I find Bryant standing there.

  “And what a lovely one.” His face lights up. He’s wearing beige linen pants and a crisp white shirt. His dark hair is neat, but teased with a little gel to make it more casual. His green eyes are as hypnotic as they were four days ago.

  I shake my head. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.” Heat floods my cheeks. I should’ve known he’d show up again after dropping off the box. Why hadn’t I peered into the peephole before opening the door? “What are you doing here?” I wrap my arms around my body but of course the cover is not enough to hide me. If only the floor would open up and swallow me whole right now. How would I be able to return the clothes with a straight face when he’s caught me trying them on? How would I claim not to like them, when I just opened the door with a smile?

  “They look great on you.” He pushes his hands into his pockets and slightly leans back to take a better look. “I had a feeling they would.” He pauses. “Can I come in?”

  “I—yeah, fine.” I step aside.

  “Thanks.” He strides in like someone who owns the place. I take a few silent breaths to calm my nerves and pull myself together before I face him again.

  When our eyes meet, sudden panic raises the hairs at the back of my neck. What if he’s dangerous? Then again, would he risk his job by doing something stupid? And we happen to be on a ship, with not many places for a criminal to hide. Even with that assurance, I don’t close the door completely, leaving it slightly ajar.

  I turn to face him, my arms still around my body. I force a smile. “So what brings you here?”

  It’s a stupid question, considering I’m wearing something that’s purchased with his money. Of course he wants to find out how I liked his gift, or maybe he’s changed his mind and wants it back, which is fine by me.

  “I’m going to the gym in fifteen minutes. Join me.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Are you asking me?”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “That was an order. And you can’t say no, since you’re already dressed for exercise. It will be just the two of us again. I checked.”

  I swallow hard at what he’s implying. It’s so clear now what he wants from me. Does he think I’m that easy to get into bed?

  “Sorry, I can’t. I have things to do.” My gaze slides from his. “But it’s good that you came. I wouldn’t have known how to . . .” I bite my lip. “How did you get into my cabin?”

  “I didn’t. I asked one of the cleaning ladies to deliver the package for me.” He cocks his head to the side. “The clothes fit perfectly.”

  I let out a sigh. “That doesn’t matter. I have to give them back to you. It’s not appropriate of you to buy me gifts.”

  He leans against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that for me to decide? The gifts were bought with my money.”

  “You can’t go around buying clothes for strangers. That’s what I am.”

  “No, you’re not. You are a fellow colleague, one I like spending time with.” His eyes dare me to try and challenge him.

  I, too, find a wall to lean against because my knees are weakening. They won’t be able to hold me upright much longer. I hope he doesn’t see the effect he’s having on me right now. “I still can’t workout with you. I’m sorry. But I do appreciate the gesture.”

  “Care to tell me why?” He cocks an eyebrow.

  “Why not?” I retort, feigning confidence I don’t have. If he doesn’t leave now, I might end up saying yes, even though every nerve in my body is telling me it would be the wrong thing to do. I don’t even know the guy.

  “I know we didn’t talk much last time, but I enjoyed the company. I’d appreciate more of it.” The cheeky grin tells me he’s a man who is used to getting what he wants.

  He’s looking at me in a way that makes me feel as though he sees right through me, as though he can see my thoughts and my feelings. As though he knows I only need one more little push before my barriers will come crashing down.

  I want to say yes and follow him to the gym but I know I shouldn’t, tempted as I may be. Right now, my mind is the scene of a tug-of-war.

  “See, you can’t even find a reason not to join me.” He dips his head to the side. “I promise to try and behave myself.” He reaches for the door handle. “Come on, let’s go before the place is crawling with people. And don’t you dare return those clothes. They were made for your body. I refuse to take them back.” He steps out the door.

  One. Two. Three.

  I’ll count to ten then make a decision. Holding my breath I continue.

  Four. Five. Six. Seven.

  What the hell. I push my feet into my white sneakers and grab my keys from the hook by the door. I don’t have to take a towel or anything else as I’ll find some in the gym bathrooms.

  “Wait.” I jog after him.

  He swivels around with a crooked smile. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

  “I planned on working out anyway.”

  “Is that so?” He pushes his hands into his pockets and resumes walking. “And here I was thinking you wanted to spend some time with me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” A smile plays on my lips. As nervous as it makes me to be around Bryant, he’s also the first gorgeous man I’m comfortable being around.

  Walking side-by-side, a bubble of what feels like joy pushes itself up my chest. It’s a struggle to wipe the smile off my face. My head feels light, as though I just had a glass of strong alcohol.

  The gym is empty, as Bryant said it would be. That’s a relief. I’d probably be more nervous and end up making a fool of myself with other people in the room, s
eeing how consumed I am by Bryant.

  Coming on this cruise, finding love had not been my intention. It still isn’t. But it would be a lie if I said I wasn’t enjoying this. Having a gorgeous man pay attention to me and wanting to spend time with me, makes me feel special. I’m going to have to dive back into the dating pool at some point. Even if my time with Bryant leads nowhere, this is great practice. There’s no harm in a little flirting.

  “If you need help with anything, ask. I’m here.” Bryant offers as he walks out of the bathroom, changed into his workout clothes. He approaches the cross trainer.

  “That’s fine. I’ll do yoga.” First of all, I’m too exhausted to be running on a machine and second, I prefer to do something within my comfort zone.

  “Okay, yoga girl.” Bryant throws me a grin. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” I hope he hasn’t detected the quiver in my voice.

  “There’s always something to tell.” He gets started on his machine but his eyes don’t leave my face. I blush.

  Turning my back to him, I lift a yoga mat from the pile, dropping it at my feet. “Well, okay.” Since he’s not asking specific questions, I’ll give him the basics and call it done. “I’m a twenty-six-year-old woman from the small town of Cottonwood, Arizona. I’m here on the LaClaire to work and to get away for a bit.”

  “What in your life did you want to get away from?” He stops working out and pins me with a gaze that makes me want to tremble.

  Since I’m not ready to answer that question, and regret even mentioning that fact, I decided to turn the interrogation in his direction. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself first?”

  “Sure.” His throaty laugh sends pleasant shivers down my spine. “I’m thirty, from Boston, and I took this job for the cash.” The glint in his eye tells me there’s more he wants to say but won’t. Suddenly, I’m dying to know more about him. Before I can dig deeper, he turns the questions back to me. “So, why do you have a wall up? Is what you’re running from to blame?”