“Well it’s Keira!” The charming Elizabeth Grant smiled at us as the elevator door opened, and we joined them on the trip down.
“You look lovely, dear, and so does your friend,” added Rose.
“Thank you. Juliet, this is Elizabeth and Rose Grant, two of our seminar attendees. Ladies, this is my colleague Juliet Fernandes.”
“Good to meet you,” Juliet said. “Are you enjoying the seminar so far?”
“Oh yes.” Rose’s head bobbed. “We are learning quite a bit. And thanks to your friend, we were able to switch our classes to accommodate my new diet.”
“She’s the best,” Juliet smiled.
“We can tell that.” Elizabeth’s smile matched Juliet’s. She continued, “So where are you gals off to before dinner, dressed so beautifully?”
“Oh, meeting a few friends.”
“Lizzie,” Rose began in an exasperated tone, “look at them. They’re off to meet a couple of young men, can’t you see?”
I choked back a laugh. Just because these ladies were older certainly didn’t mean they weren’t wise to the ways of the world.
“Of course, of course,” Elizabeth said, nodding, as the door opened to their chosen floor. “Well, have a nice evening and make sure they don’t stick you girls with the bar tab.”
“We won’t!” we called after them before the door closed, then looked at each other and giggled.
I would be lying if I said that admiring heads did not swivel as we approached the Sports Bar.
Juliet was striking in her stylish ensemble that combined a flirty short skirt in a delicious shade of yellow and a coordinating sleeveless top with a lace yoke. Her trademark springy curls were pulled back with a silk scarf bandeau and cascaded down her shoulders.
Although we hadn’t planned it, I had coordinated colors with her with my simple ice-blue sheath with a V neck and cap sleeves.
“I’m glad you let your hair down, Keira,” said Juliet.
“Is that some sort of metaphor, Jules?”
“Uh, no,” she grinned “but I’m glad in that way, too. What I meant is that I always see you with a ponytail or with your hair in a bun or braid. When you let it down like that, it’s magnificent.”
I reached up and flicked it back.
“Shh. It’s my secret weapon!”
We laughed as we arrived at the Sports Bar and scanned the area. Our dates were sitting together and hopped up when they saw us approach.
“Ah, the lovely event virtuosos arrive!” said Langston. Or was it Owen? Darn! I forgot who was who. Not a good start to the evening.
“Hello, Langston,” I said, careful to face both without focusing on one in particular until Langston acknowledged my greeting, then “Hello, Owen” to the other. Having grown up attending many formal functions, I had learned the fine art of avoiding an embarrassing mix-up.
“Gentlemen,” Juliet slipped into ladylike character and held out her hand delicately to be kissed. Really, Jules? Was there a camera filming some modern episode of Downton Abbey? I chuckled inside.
“We were waiting for you here,” indicating the bar that faced the Promenade Deck, “but we can go inside and get a table if you wish.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “I like sitting here and being able to people watch.”
Somehow it just felt better being a bit more out in the open.
Juliet and I took the chairs that the brothers had been occupying, and they stood next to us. We ordered a bottle of wine to share and began the “getting to know you” routine.
“So.” I seemed to have drawn the short straw for asking the first question. “Where are you two from?”
“We grew up in Toronto, but I moved to Vancouver. Owen still lives in Toronto.”
“So you’re Canadian?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, just an observation. What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer,” said Owen, “and Langston is a doctor.”
I sighed inwardly. Why did this seem like the beginning of every date I’d been on for the last several years? The only difference was that Juliet was along to take over some of the compulsory questions. Maybe things would get better after the compulsory round and we got into the free skate. What? Why was I thinking about ice skating? Focus, Keira, focus!
“What?” I knew a question had been addressed to me, but I hadn’t heard it. “I’m sorry, the music is a little loud.”
The others just looked at me, since the tune at that moment was a light jazz piece.
“He SAID,” repeated Juliet with some annoyance, “what made you decide to go into event planning?”
“Oh.” Right. First Date Question Number Twenty-Five. I could spit out the answer to that one while juggling fire batons.
Honestly. These two were handsome, professional men, and since we were only together for a week, there was an expiration date to any potential flirtation. Why was I so off my game? Just no spark. Oh well, this was only supposed to be a meet and greet anyway, so no harm. But I did owe them my full attention while I was there. Besides, I should always be networking. That was how we got some of our best events. Network, network, network. But was connecting from Toronto or Vancouver to Denver a reach at this point?
“What?” Darn it! The only reach I needed was one to pull myself back to the conversation.
“Sorry.”
“We know. Loud music.” Juliet surreptitiously pinched my arm.
I took a sip of my wine.
“What made you decide to take this trip?” I asked, thinking it would be better to have them answer questions for a while. But by the way the three of them stared at me, I could tell that they had already discussed that topic. I decided to be honest. Well, sort of.
“I really have to apologize. My mind wandered off. I was thinking about the results of the event today and doing a bit of thinking for tomorrow.”
“We understand,” said Langston politely, helping me cover my poor manners. “What chefs are featured tomorrow?”
Did they really want to discuss the event?
“Oh let’s let Keira clear her head,” said Juliet. She changed the topic skillfully. “What did you two for the rest of the day after we saw you earlier?”
Langston answered, “We went on a snorkeling excursion, then came back to the ship for the afternoon.”
“How was the snorkeling?” Juliet asked.
“Well, we had a great time like we always do when we snorkel, and this time we went kayaking as well. But I have to tell you we had the best time with the people sharing our excursion. That made the trip worth it.”
“Really? How so?”
“Well, they were two couples who were brother and sister with their spouses. First of all, they were animated and personable, but what made it fun was that they—”
“Made everything a competition!” I finished for him with a laugh.
“How did you know?” asked Owen.
“Let me see if I can describe them for you: the brother and sister had matching bright blue eyes, and even though it seemed that they were fighting, you could tell it was all in fun? And the sister’s husband secretly egged on the competition, and the brother’s wife patiently shook her head throughout it all?”
“Hey! Exactly!”
“You were in a group with my best friend and her family!”
“What are the odds!” exclaimed Juliet.
“Well, pretty good, if you look at how many people actually signed up for excursions,” I began, but caught Juliet’s eye. I knew that a discussion of mathematical probability and statistics would not go over well at the moment.
“We were worried that the excursion was going to be boring, but they really livened it up,” said Langston.
“Oh, they’re lively, all right,” I said, nodding my head.
“Well, you’ll appreciate this, the ringleader—”
“Alex,” I said.
“Yes. Alex said that she had girlfriends along on the cruise that she wanted to int
roduce us to.”
Juliet and I looked at one another.
“Us!”
“Of course we had to politely decline, because we told them we were meeting two ladies.”
“Ah, but that wasn’t the real reason, was it? You thought her girlfriends were going to be less than attractive, didn’t you?” I wondered if maybe I needed to rethink these two.
“No, no, no!” Langston looked at Owen.
Juliet jumped in. “Well, what was it, then?”
“Well, to be honest, we didn’t believe anyone could actually be as fabulous as she described.”
I laughed.
“Alex is my BEST friend. Of course she’s a bit biased.”
Langston put his hands on each of our shoulders.
“Oh, but she did not exaggerate.”
What kind of players were these guys? I wouldn’t have considered me fabulous based on my less-than-tuned-in conversation to this point.
“Oh, Alex is pretty good at selling. She used to be in marketing.”
I swiveled my chair around to survey the Promenade Deck. More people were making their way to the splendid dining halls for dinner. Large family groups with young children, bright red from a day in the sun and squeaky clean from a fresh shower, mingled with young couples strolling slowly arm in arm, oblivious to the hustle and bustle around them. Here and there were groups of young men or young women traveling separately in laughing groups, perhaps destined to meet later in one of the ship’s bars. Everyone had an air of expectancy. Why was I being such a downer?
I swung back to face the brothers, prepared to thank them for the drink and to say my good-byes, when the announcement system came on and a familiar voice emerged.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! This is your cruise director Brennan. I hope you had a great day in Nassau today. Just a reminder of tonight’s activities ...”
He continued with his announcements, and his voice just reminded me of his infuriating personality. I needed distraction.
“Langston,” I began on a different note, “this was lovely. What do you say we all meet up again later, after the show? Maybe in the Piano Bar?”
His eyes widened, as did his grin.
“That sounds great! Owen? Juliet?”
“You bet!” said Owen.
“Well, I sure wouldn’t disagree,” said Juliet, and I could tell from her tone that she thought I was the last person who would have suggested another meeting that evening
Chapter Twelve
Was it my imagination or did everyone at our dinner table become unusually interested in their menus as Juliet and I approached?
We stopped a few feet from the table and paused.
“Ahem,” I said. Nothing. I repeated loudly, “AHEM!”
“Oh, Keira, there you girls are,” said Alex.
Why no, Alex, you weren’t waiting on pins and needles. Hmmh. Two could play at that that game. I winked at Juliet.
“Hi guys. What looks good tonight?” We sat and took our menus and studied them as closely as if winning lottery ticket numbers were hidden on them somewhere. Their curiosity was conspicuous in the absence of a bombardment of questions.
“The seafood special looks good,” said Juliet, playing along, “but I think I’m in the mood for prime rib tonight.”
“Sounds good,” I nodded. “But, you know, you can order two items.”
“Really? I didn’t know that! I think I may order two desserts,” said Juliet. “I heard that the chef is preparing a chocolate—”
“All right!” interrupted Alex finally. “While we are all fascinated by your menu selections, I think you know we really want to know about the two mystery strangers! How did it go? What did you talk about? Who hit it off with the one in the linen blazer?”
She clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Aha!” I pointed to her. “I knew you would manage to show up and try to monitor the situation!”
Juliet jumped in, “Where were you? I didn’t see you!”
“I wasn’t there. I promised I wouldn’t be there, remember?”
I thought back to the people walking past us in the Promenade Deck.
“Alex, you little sneak! You managed to get Gerard Marten to spy for you, didn’t you?” I recalled seeing one of our featured bloggers sitting across the way at the coffee bar while we were talking with Langston and Owen. But I didn’t think anything of it, since one was bound to see familiar faces over the course of a cruise. And Gerard wasn’t even looking our way, so I assumed he hadn’t seen us.
Everyone laughed.
“Don’t you know that once Ally-Cat sets her mind to something, she achieves it?” asked Anthony.
“So,” said Mrs. D’Ag, “now that you brought up the subject, how were these boys? And why didn’t they walk you over to meet us?”
Cam did a perfect spit take.
“What?” Mrs. D’Ag’s innocence was delicious. From the fact that she called them “boys” to the thought that we would subject them to the family after a casual drinks date. There was only so much room on a ship for them to run away from the inevitable interrogation.
“Mama,” Cam patted her hand, “do you remember the gauntlet I had to run through the first time I was introduced? Alex and I had been dating for ages by the time I met the family.”
“Oh pfft,” Mrs. D’Ag said, with a wave of her hand. “We just like to know that our girls are with nice boys, right Maeve?”
My mother laughed, “You’re right, Angela. Cam forgets that he is just lucky he passed the test.”
“Hey!” Cam stopped buttering his roll and pointed it at Damian. “I got the priestly seal of approval first! That should count for something.”
“Besides,” I added, “these two today were approved before Jules and I even sat down with them.”
“How is that possible?” asked Mrs. D’Ag.
“Well ... Alex and Anthony wanted to fix us up after meeting them THIS MORNING.”
“What? No!” said Anthony. “Are they the snorkelers?”
“Snorkelers? I’m confused,” said my mother.
Celia explained the events of the morning to the table.
“Hmm,” said Russ in his calm way. “It looks like they’ve already met some of the family, girls. I’m afraid I have to agree. When do the rest of us get to meet them?”
You too, Russ?
The others joined in.
“Yes, bring them around!” “We need to meet them!”
I sat back and crossed my arms.
“Vultures ... all of you ...”
Mr. D’Ag was the one who finally saved us.
“Now come on, leave these girls alone. I’m sure they don’t need their dinner upset in this way.”
Thank you so much, Papa D., my eyes shot to him.
He smiled and continued, “After they finish their desserts, we can see what plans they have and maybe join them.”
I dropped my chin to my chest in the midst of the good-natured laughter.
The rest of the dinner passed enjoyably, with everyone sharing stories about the events of that day.
The snorkeling entourage had several close calls, and Anthony and Alex made sure to work in comments about Langston and Owen whenever possible. Juliet and I managed to deflect any questions neatly.
The group that went for a walk on the island had ended up grabbing a cab and going to the enormous Atlantis Hotel and Casino.
“Wow, mother, how was that?” My mother was not someone who frequented casinos.
“Your mother is quite the gambler,” said Russ.
“Oh, Russ, stop.” She turned to me. “I think I spent a grand total of five dollars in the nickel slot machines.”
“You were able to find a nickel slot machine in that luxurious place?” I asked.
“Oh yes. I wasn’t about to drop a hundred dollars a hand at blackjack.”
My mother was nothing if not fiscally responsible.
“Pop and Russ spent a little at the tab
les, though,” said Damian.
Normally a quiet man who only opened up in a discussion of plants, Mr. D’Ag laughed. “Russ and I kept our betting to a minimum, thank you very much. But I don’t know if I can really trust a man who is a New York Giants fan.”
Uh-oh. The D’Agostinos were die-hard Pittsburgh Steelers fans, so the discussion of pro football was off and running. Russ held his own, but I could see that Juliet was lost.
“Sorry, Juliet, football discussion is a rite of passage with this family!” I checked my watch as we all were finishing our desserts and coffee, then I reminded the group that the musical show would be starting soon. I had to admit one of the advantages of a cruise vacation was the ability to get up from a delicious meal and walk directly to a first-class show. Tonight we were going to see Grease, and everyone was looking forward to it.
“Let’s go, kids!” Mrs. D’Ag marshaled us out of the dining room and toward the theater.
After the final applause at the show, Mrs. D’Ag was once again in charge as we stood in our row and stretched.
“All right, now, let’s get to bed,” she said. “Tomorrow is a long workday for Keira and Juliet, and according to the Lodestone there’s a lot of activities the rest of us can participate in for the day at sea.”
“Bed?” exclaimed Alex. “Ma! We’re on vacation.”
“Well, that’s your choice, but if you’re tired tomorrow, don’t blame me,” answered the practiced mother and grandmother.
We all laughed, but it was Cam who had the best comment.
“You’re absolutely right, Mama. I’m going straight to bed. C’mon Ali,” he ushered Alex by the elbow, then stopped. “But, you know, I’m just going to stop in that Promenade Cafe and see if they have any of those little pizzas or sandwiches.”
Mrs. D’Ag stopped and turned.
“Pizzas? Well, I guess it won’t hurt to stop for a coffee.”
The rest of us burst into laughter.
“What?” asked Mrs. D’Ag.
“Oh,” said Russ, hooking her arm, “I think your son-in-law believes he’s clever, but we know better, don’t we?”
She smiled at him. “Oh, these kids!”
Love on the Lido Deck Page 10
