Pleasure Cruise

by Yolanda Wallace

  Jessica couldn’t believe what she was being asked to do. “I’m a fitness trainer, not a killer.”

  “Then this could be the perfect opportunity for you to branch out. To broaden your skill set, so to speak.”

  “If Pilar wants Luisa Moreno gone so badly, why doesn’t she hire a professional to do the job?”

  “Why should la jefa waste money on hiring someone when she can have you do it for free? If you botch the job, it’s on you, not her. I suppose you could ask Brandon to help you out, but he’s got problems of his own. Lately, he’s been using more product than he’s been selling. If he doesn’t come up with the money to pay us back, I’ll be paying him a visit, too. Just like you, he’ll never see me coming.”

  Jessica wondered what kind of Faustian bargain the man would offer Brandon. Would he try to strong-arm Brandon into doing away with her the same way he was attempting to use her to get rid of Luisa Moreno, or would he give Brandon an even more odious assignment to carry out?

  “Your options are simple,” the man said. “If you take care of Luisa Moreno, your courier services will no longer be required. Don’t forget to send proof that the job is done. Photographic evidence and a finger or two will do nicely. Make sure you select the trigger finger. I’m sure la jefa would appreciate that.”

  Jessica nearly gagged as bile rose in her throat. “And if I don’t…take care of Officer Moreno?”

  The man rose to his feet. “I’m here to present the facts, not make threats.”

  “You could have fooled me,” she said as he towered over her.

  The man reached for his cup. “Do the job you’ve been tasked with and you can have the freedom you so desperately desire. If you refuse, you’ll be expected to move product on the ships you’re assigned to as well as on land.”

  “Wait. That’s never been part of the deal before.”

  “It is now. Are you in or out? The choice is yours.”

  He walked away before she could give him an answer, which was a good thing because she had no idea what her answer was. She felt trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place. She couldn’t keep doing what she was doing, but she couldn’t possibly pay the price that had been placed on her freedom. She couldn’t take someone else’s life in order to fix the shambles she had made out of her own.

  She held her head in her hands. A few minutes ago, she had been planning her future. Now it was becoming increasingly obvious she wouldn’t be able to have a future until she paid for the sins she had committed in her past.

  “Who was the guy you were talking to?” Breanna asked when she returned to the table.

  “No one I know.”

  “He seemed to know you. Or maybe he just wanted to get to know you better. He made a beeline for you as soon as I left.” Breanna blew on her fingernails and rubbed them against her chest. “I always knew I had great taste in women.”

  Jessica looked away as her eyes flooded with tears. The bad decisions she had made had earned her a tidy sum, but now they were costing her dearly. Would those decisions exact a toll on her loved ones, too?

  Unfortunately, she knew the answer to that question, and it was a resounding yes.

  * * *

  Even though Amy had made sure to don comfortable shoes when the ship dropped anchor in San Juan at noon, her feet were killing her. The walking tour of Old San Juan had taken a little over three hours, then she and Spencer had spent a little over forty-five minutes exploring Castillo San Felipe del Morro, a sixteenth-century fort overlooking the entrance to San Juan Bay. They would be in Puerto Rico for less than half a day, and Spencer seemed determined to take full advantage of every minute. She was currently trying to figure out if they had enough time to take the tunnel tour of nearby Castillo de San Cristobal before they had to return to the ship.

  The Majestic Dream wouldn’t raise anchor for another few hours, but Amy didn’t want to spend every minute of that time on her feet. Unless, of course, she was dancing the salsa, samba, or merengue in one of the many clubs in town. One establishment even had a waterfall built into the elevator that ferried guests to an incredible rooftop bar. Amy wasn’t dressed to impress, but she wouldn’t mind spending an hour or two lounging on one of the leather beds while she and Spencer munched on empanadas and sipped fruit-infused cocktails. But this was Spencer’s vacation, not hers, so she let her take the lead.

  After several minutes of intense study, Spencer finally put her guidebook away. “You look like you could use a break from all the exploring we’ve been doing today. Do you want to sit and talk for a while?”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Grateful for the respite, Amy took a seat next to one of the cannons pointed toward the crystal clear water. “Are you having a good trip so far?”

  “I’m having a blast. I’m glad I didn’t follow my instincts and try to talk myself out of coming. I’ve made several new friends this week and experienced some things I never thought I would.”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “I am, to be honest.”

  “Why?”

  “The last cruise I was on wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as this one has proven to be.”

  Instead of pressuring Spencer to open up, Amy waited for her to do it on her own. Spencer looked out at the water with a contemplative expression on her face as if she were waiting for the same thing.

  “When I was in high school,” Spencer said at length, “my classmates and I took a cruise to Mexico for our senior trip. Five days from Miami to Cozumel.”

  Amy started to comment on how beautiful the sights were in Cozumel and the surrounding areas, but she stayed mum. Spencer had skirted around the subject of her previous cruise for days now. Now that she was finally ready to tell the story, Amy didn’t want to impede her progress.

  “We took a charter bus from Pipkinville to Miami. I talked everyone’s ears off the whole way down about all the things I was going to do once we boarded the ship. I was going to participate in every activity, sign up for every excursion, and do all the touristy things and then some.”

  “That sounds familiar,” Amy said before she could convince herself not to.

  Spencer flashed a self-deprecating smile before she continued her story. “I changed my tune once we set sail. I spent so much time throwing up in my room I didn’t have any time to do anything else. I’d brought all kinds of remedies for seasickness with me—pills, patches, even a wristband my local pharmacist recommended—but none of them seemed to help. Summer Colton was my roommate. Not by choice, mind you. The room assignments were given alphabetically and our last names were next to each other’s on the list. If she had her way, she would have preferred to room with Madison Davis or Debbie Wells, her BFFs from the cheerleading squad. Instead, she was stuck with the geek no one wanted anything to do with outside of school, but everyone wanted to sit next to during midterm or final exams.”

  Amy knew firsthand that wounds inflicted in high school often ran deep. No matter how much scar tissue developed over the years, the pain still flared up from time to time. Even so, she wished Spencer would stop selling herself short. Couldn’t she see that she was so much more than she was giving herself credit for?

  “I was in such a sad state Summer must have felt sorry for me,” Spencer said. “She was like Florence Nightingale. She held my hair while I threw up, rubbed my back when I stopped, then fed me ice chips and plied me with ginger ale until I was able to keep food down. When I finally started to feel better, she dragged me out of our room and into the sunshine. I wasn’t strong enough to do much besides work on my tan, but as she put it, at least I’d be able to go home looking like I had fun instead of puking my guts out for three days. If the story ended there, it would be bad enough, but I had to go and make it infinitely worse.”

  “What happened?” Amy asked when Spencer seemed reluctant to continue.

  “Even though we were too young to drink, a lot of people had raided their parents’ liquor cabinets and smuggled several bottles of alcoho
l on board. Security wasn’t as tight then as it is now, and teenagers will always find a way to do something when you tell them they can’t. After our chaperones fell asleep, out came the booze. The parties were held in a different person’s room each night so none of the crew would get suspicious. I missed the first few nights, but I made up for lost time as soon as I could. Louis Hill, the tight end on the football team, couldn’t run a decent pass route to save his life, but he was an awesome bartender. His specialties were Long Island iced teas and kamikazes.”

  Amy thought she knew where the story was headed, but she waited for Spencer to confirm her suspicions.

  “I opted for the kamikaze because it seemed like the lesser of two evils. A drink you can see through couldn’t be that bad, could it?”

  Interesting theory, but the hangovers Amy had experienced from downing too much tequila blanco wouldn’t allow her to espouse it.

  “The first drink made me feel like I fit in. The second made me feel like I was Supergirl. By the time I was halfway through the third, I was the life of the party.” Spencer smiled at the memory, but her smile soon faded. “The music was blasting and everyone was having a good time so I asked Summer to dance with me. I still don’t know why she said yes. To prove to her friends how cool she was, I suppose. At the time, I thought it was because she liked me. She’d been so kind to me while I was sick that I developed a bit of a crush on her. The things she’d said and done while we were alone made me think she felt the same way about me. Otherwise, I never would have tried to kiss her. Especially with everyone watching. But I did try and, of course, she freaked out. I don’t remember the exact words she said. I just remember the look on her face, the sound of her laughter, and the chants of ‘Kamikaze Collins’ that chased me out of the room.”

  Amy had also fallen for the wrong person a time or two, but at least she hadn’t done it with a roomful of people bearing witness to her humiliation. She didn’t have to imagine how mortified Spencer felt at that moment because she could see it written all over her face.

  “I kept a low profile for the duration of the trip,” Spencer said, “but I needn’t have bothered. No one wanted anything to do with me anyway. By the time we got home, the news had beaten us back to shore and I was even more of an outcast than I’d been before we left. I’m sure I wasn’t the only lesbian in town, but it certainly felt like it during the endless summer between high school and college. I couldn’t wait to head to Athens so I could finally be myself. Then, when I graduated four years later, I couldn’t wait to go back.”

  “Why would you willingly return to a place where people tormented you simply for being who you are?”

  Spencer offered a wan smile. “Because it’s home. Because even though I’m not going to change who I am or who I love, perhaps they’ll eventually be able to accept both.”

  Spencer certainly made a persuasive argument for living in a small town, but Amy didn’t know if she would be able to give up the creature comforts a large metropolitan city had to offer. Changing hearts and minds was important, but so was being able to catch a nonstop flight to anywhere she wanted to go rather than being forced to spend time in several regional airports along the way.

  “Thank you for sharing your story with me.” Amy took Spencer’s hand in hers and laced their fingers together. She could feel the bond between them growing stronger every day. Even though she knew she should, she didn’t want it to break. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me.”

  “Thank you for making it considerably less painful than I remembered.”

  Spencer flashed that sad smile again. Amy wanted to hold her until her sadness disappeared. Kiss her until the tears pooled in her eyes turned into laughter. She wanted to do so many things. Things she wasn’t allowed to do as long as Spencer was a client.

  Amy’s job had brought her many things. At the moment, though, she hated what it might be preventing her from having: a chance to craft a relationship with the most amazing woman she had ever met.

  Amy’s phone rang. Naturally, Breanna’s name was printed on the display. Work often intruded on Amy’s personal life. Why should today be any different?

  “Hey, Bree,” she said after she excused herself to take the call. “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that everyone who signed up for the shopping excursion is accounted for and safely ensconced on the ship.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Amy looked down at the waves breaking on the rocks. “Was it a successful event?”

  “Everyone seemed to have fun. Based on the number of shopping bags I spotted on the shuttle bus, I think it’s safe to say the Puerto Rican economy received a substantial boost today.”

  “That’s good. After all the lost tourist dollars as a result of Hurricane Maria, the island can use the income. But why do you sound so depressed?”

  “I’m fine, Ames. Everything’s cool.”

  “If everything’s as fine as you’re trying to make it out to be, you would have hailed me on the radio instead of calling me on my cell.” Amy lowered her voice in an attempt to keep her conversation as private as she could. Even though Spencer was maintaining a respectful distance, several other people hovered within earshot as they took selfies in front of the piles of cannon balls or crowded next to the worn stone walls to admire the view. “Talk to me, Bree. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I shouldn’t say anything. It’s probably just my imagination.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “I told Jessica I wanted to take our relationship to the next level.”

  “Really?” Amy couldn’t hide her surprise. Like her, Breanna preferred to keep her relationships casual. “What did she say?”

  “She was taken aback at first, but she seemed to warm to the idea. At least I thought so. Now I’m not so sure. She’s been acting weird for a couple of hours now. She says nothing’s wrong, but I think there’s something she’s not telling me.”

  “Something like what?”

  “Beats me. Tell me I’m not imagining things.”

  Amy wanted to say something to ease Breanna’s mind, but she didn’t have enough information to do the job. Plus she had been single for so long she was woefully out of practice at doling out relationship advice. Breanna might have been better off reaching out to her sister for help with this particular problem. Since she wasn’t willing to take that route, the situation had

  to be much more serious than Amy had initially given it credit for. Breanna didn’t shut her family out of her life unless she

  was dealing with something she didn’t want them to worry about. Her relationship with Jessica was obviously giving her cause for concern. “Have you talked to her since you left the mall?”

  “No, she said she needed to check on the gym to make sure her replacement didn’t screw anything up while she was gone.”

  Jessica’s explanation sounded plausible, but Amy could tell Breanna wasn’t buying it. “Do you think there’s more to the story?”

  “I know there is. I just don’t know what.”

  “What do you need, Bree?”

  “Tell me I’m being silly. Tell me I’m reading way too much into this situation than what’s actually there. Tell me—”

  “That you’re not falling for her? Sorry. No can do.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Hang up the phone, find her, and talk to her. She’s the only person who can give you the answers you’re looking for.”

  “But what if she says something I don’t want to hear?”

  “We’ll deal with it together. That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “Right.” Breanna laughed. “I thought I was supposed to be the one talking you off the ledge on this trip, not the other way around.”

  Amy’s heart fluttered when she saw Spencer staring at her with a concerned expression on her handsome face. Spencer couldn’t have looked more adorable if she’d tried. “Don’t worry,” Amy said, won
dering how long she would be able to resist Spencer’s considerable charms. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance sooner or later.”

  Night Four

  Even though both locks on her stateroom door were engaged, Jessica had never felt more vulnerable. She sat on the foot of her bed and stared at the gun resting on her pillow like a perverted after-dinner mint. She didn’t know anything about guns so she had no idea what make or model this one was, but she knew one thing: it looked dangerous.

  How could something so small bear so much weight? She was tempted to throw it overboard, but what was the point? If she got rid of it, another would probably appear in its place.

  Everything had looked normal when she had returned to her room a few hours ago. Then she had looked under her pillow and discovered the gun the man in Plaza las Americas had promised she would find. Loathe to touch it, she had picked it up while making sure not to leave any fingerprints behind. She had been in a standoff with it ever since. She doubted she could come out on top, but she had to try. Because this was one game she couldn’t afford to lose.

  She hugged her knees to her chest. She had a couple of theories about how the gun had made its way into her room. Either the maid had been paid to plant it while she performed her daily turndown service or she had been asked to look the other way while someone else performed the deed. But none of that mattered now. What mattered was what happened next. Jessica needed to figure out what to do, and she needed to figure it out fast.

  She could barely muster enough courage to swat a palmetto bug that wandered into her apartment. How was she supposed to find the strength she needed to do away with a person?