Pleasure Cruise

by Yolanda Wallace

  Amy was pleased to hear the crowd roar its approval.

  “The kitchen staff was nice enough to let me horn in on their territory today. I’ve been down there all morning working on a dish that’s near and dear to my heart. A gooey, decadent dessert that’s almost as much fun to make as it is to eat.”

  Amy heard more than a few murmurs of anticipation.

  “Some things in life just go together,” Griffin said. “Peanut butter and jelly, cookies and milk, bacon and eggs. I’d like to tell you about some other natural pairings you might not have considered. Wine and chocolate, for example.” She lifted the lid on a large tray filled with bottles of wine and bars of gourmet chocolate.

  “I knew it!” a woman in the front row yelled before she blushed furiously and covered her mouth with her hands.

  “A fellow chocolate lover, I see,” Griffin said good-naturedly. “If you’re a fan of milk chocolate, try pairing it with port, sherry, or a nice pinot noir. White chocolate, I find, goes best with champagne or Riesling. Make sure the Riesling isn’t too sweet or it will overpower what you’re eating. Dark chocolate, which can be slightly bitter, matches well with cabernet sauvignon. I like to mix my sweets with a hint of something savory. Chocolate accented with sea salt, my personal favorite, tastes even better with a glass of merlot. And if you’re feeling really wild, throw a dollop of warm caramel into the mix.”

  “Should we be taking notes?” an audience member called out.

  Amy hadn’t expected the demonstration to be quite so interactive. Griffin had set aside some time for questions after the demo was done, but the audience didn’t seem willing to wait. At least they were engaged instead of bored to tears. That was a good sign.

  “Just sit back and relax. I’ll provide you with the Cliffs Notes later.” Griffin moved to the next covered dish. “If you’re in the mood for a baked dessert rather than something prepackaged, lemon bars always do the trick. Pair them with a glass of prosecco and you’ll be transported to Tuscany in no time.”

  “What goes with brownies?” someone asked.

  “A fork, a glass of port, and a bib to catch the crumbs. If you don’t have a fork handy, fingers work, too. Then you can use the bib for other things.”

  The crowd hooted at the titillating comment, and Griffin stepped out of the way as three of her assistants cleared the dishes off the workstation. The items she had displayed, Amy knew, wouldn’t go to waste. Samples would be offered to the crowd. The rest would be divided among the members of the wait and kitchen staffs.

  “There’s no rule that says a dessert has to be decadent, but there’s no rule that says it doesn’t, either. The richest dessert in my repertoire is the one I want to make for you now: a cookies and cream parfait with coffee liqueur-infused whipped cream.”

  The resulting moans sounded like a collective orgasm.

  “There’s no baking required, but the dish calls for a bit of elbow grease. Who’s willing to help me out?”

  Hands shot up all across the room.

  “You.” Griffin pointed to the woman Amy had seen Spencer sitting next to during Sunday’s wine tasting. “My chocolate lover in the front row. Why don’t you come up here and give me a hand?”

  The woman squealed like she had been given a chance to compete for the grand prize on her favorite game show.

  “What’s your name?” Griffin asked after Wendy fitted the woman with a headset microphone.

  “Jordan.”

  “Thank you for volunteering, Jordan. How skilled are you in the kitchen?”

  “I can order takeout with the best of them.”

  “That works, too. Do you think you can handle a food processor?”

  “I can try.”

  “Perfect.” Griffin handed her a plate filled with chocolate sandwich cookies minus the creamy centers. “I need you to take a handful of these, fifteen or so, and grind them into a fine powder. We’re going to use some of the crumbs as one of the layers on our parfait and dust the rest over the top of the finished product.”

  “I think I love you.”

  “Careful. Don’t let your girlfriend hear you say that.”

  “Too late. She already did,” Jordan’s girlfriend said.

  Amy laughed along with the rest of the crowd. Griffin was a natural at this. Jordan was, too.

  This might work out well after all.

  “While Jordan’s taking care of the cookies, I’m going to prepare the whipped cream.” Griffin gathered her ingredients. “Add two cups of heavy cream, the filling from the cookies, and a third cup of your favorite coffee liqueur into a blender and whip until you achieve the desired texture. The process normally takes about four minutes. If you keep going beyond that point, you’ll end up with butter instead of whipped cream. Butter can be sexy, too, but I wouldn’t recommend including it in a parfait. For an extra layer of richness, melt four ounces of semisweet chocolate in half a cup of hot milk and add that to the whipped cream.”

  Amy looked away from the whirring equipment. The audience seemed spellbound by what they were witnessing. If only they knew what was next on the menu.

  Griffin switched off the blender. “The whipped cream’s done. How are you doing over there, Jordan?”

  “I think the cookies are done, too.”

  “Perfect.” Griffin turned off the food processor and removed the lid. “Now for the fun part: plating.” She grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and set them on the workstation. “Interacting with food is a sensual experience. You eat with your eyes first, especially when a dish is visually appealing. If you’re preparing this dish at home, though, don’t stress over trying to make it look perfect. Some of the best meals I’ve had were also the messiest. Sometimes, clean-up can be an adventure in itself.”

  Wendy held up a time cue, but Griffin was so polished she didn’t seem to need it. Even with the last-minute changes, the program was right on schedule.

  “Okay, Jordan, you’re on. I want you to take this spoon and alternate layers of the cookie crumbs and whipped cream until you reach the top of the glass.”

  “Which ingredient should I start with?”

  “That’s up to you. Parfaits are like snowflakes. No two are exactly alike. Ready? Go!”

  The audience cheered as Griffin and Jordan began a frenzied race to the finish.

  “I didn’t know cooking was a contact sport,” Griffin said after Jordan hip checked her away from the workstation.

  “It is in my house.”

  Griffin gave Jordan a high five, then addressed the audience. “As my lovely sous chef just demonstrated, cooking doesn’t have to be as serious as some of my colleagues in the food industry make it out to be. Cooking is meant to bring people together. And, most of all, it’s meant to be fun. So don’t freak out if you don’t get the recipe right the first twenty times you try to follow it. As Maximillien Robespierre once said, you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.”

  The audience applauded the end of the demo.

  “Before we serve these gorgeous parfaits,” Griffin said as the wait staff began to gather behind her, “does anyone have any questions?”

  Wendy handed Amy and Leanna cordless microphones so they could work the room. Griffin fielded a wide-ranging variety of questions before the woman sitting next to Spencer raised her hand. Amy and Leanna had agreed that Leanna should wield the microphone while this passenger posed her question, so Amy hung back while Leanna sprinted toward her.

  “My question is for Jordan.” The crowd gasped when Tatum pulled a ring box from her pocket and leaned on one of her crutches as she gingerly lowered herself to one knee. “Jordan Gonzalez, will you marry me?”

  Amy looked at Spencer to see if she might have known about Tatum’s plans ahead of time, but Spencer looked just as surprised as Jordan did.

  Tears pouring down her face, Jordan abandoned her position at the workstation and helped Tatum to her feet. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

  The room erupted as Tatum s
lipped the ring on Jordan’s finger and their mouths met in a lingering kiss.

  Amy was so caught up in the moment she almost forgot to officially bring the presentation to an end. “Congratulations, Jordan and Tatum. I’ll be on the lookout for my wedding invitation.”

  “Once we start making the list,” Tatum said, “I’m sure everyone in this room will be on it.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Everyone, please join me in thanking Griffin Sutton for today’s demonstration.”

  Griffin held up her hand to acknowledge the cheers. “Thank you for having me.” She cued the wait staff to begin serving the parfaits. “Enjoy.”

  “Do you think Jordan and Tatum would be willing to pose for a few pictures for the company website?” Leanna asked as dozens of audience members, parfaits in hand, made their way over to the happy couple to offer their congratulations. “It would be great publicity for us, and a serious boost for both our wedding and honeymoon registries.”

  Amy watched Jordan and Tatum celebrate with Spencer and the rest of their friends. She longed to join them, but doing so would have felt like an intrusion. She wasn’t part of this moment. She had simply been hired to help make it happen. Now that it had, she knew it would make good business sense to piggyback on the publicity. But she hadn’t thought about business once today, and she didn’t want to start now. She wanted to enjoy the occasion, not exploit it.

  “Put the camera away, Lee. Today’s not about us. It’s about them.”

  “I knew better than to offer you a parfait so I brought you one of these.” Spencer handed Amy a glass of champagne.

  “Thank you.” Amy accepted the glass and took a grateful sip. She still had tons of work to do today, but she felt semi-relaxed for the first time in hours. She was relieved the revised program had gone off without a hitch, but she suspected Spencer’s calming presence might be partially responsible for her improved frame of mind.

  “Was this your idea?”

  “I would love to take credit, but Leanna proposed it, pardon the pun. All I did was help her dot the i’s and cross the t’s.”

  “If you say so. Whatever you did, Jordan and Tatum are over the moon right now so thank you for doing it. Are you really planning to come to the wedding if they send you an invitation?”

  “The only parts of Georgia I’ve seen so far are the interstates in Atlanta and the inside of Hartsfield, which isn’t called the world’s busiest airport without reason. I hear the rest of the state is beautiful, though. Maybe I’ll find a local tour guide to show me around one day.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What do you have on tap for today?”

  “The girls and I were planning to watch Hannah and Maneet compete in the poker tournament upstairs, but I think this celebration is going to last a while. What about you? What’s on your agenda?”

  “I have to find creative ways to keep two thousand women from getting bored when there are no excursions to be taken, no exotic islands to explore, and no land in sight.”

  Days at sea were always difficult to plan. She wanted to give passengers as many entertainment options as possible, but she didn’t want to overwhelm them, either. She wanted them to feel relaxed, not pressured.

  “There are more than enough distractions on this ship to keep everyone occupied until we get to the Bahamas tomorrow,” Spencer said. “After some of the adventures we’ve gotten into this week, I’m sure some of us could use some downtime, myself included.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to thank you for helping to make this happen.”

  Spencer looked like she wanted to say something else. Amy waited for her to decide whether she should say her piece or let whatever was bothering her remain unsaid. They stood in awkward silence for a moment or two before Spencer finally spoke.

  “You don’t have any hard feelings about the way we ended things yesterday, do you? About what I said?”

  “Kissing you was a lapse in judgment. I won’t call it a mistake.” When was the last time a mistake had felt so good? “I will say, though, that I never should have done it. I should have found a way to extricate us from the situation without putting you on the spot. You spoke your mind about what happened and I respect that. How could I possibly hold it against you?”

  “Some people find a way.”

  Amy remembered the story Spencer had told about making a drunken pass at a girl she had a crush on during a booze-fueled party on her senior trip. Her pass had been rebuffed in front of dozens of jeering witnesses. She’d been struggling to deal with the embarrassment—and the lingering disapproval—ever since.

  “I’m not some people.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” A brief but appreciative smile flickered across Spencer’s lips before it quickly faded from view. “I’m glad we could clear the air.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Are you going to join me in Nassau tomorrow, or should I plan on going it alone?”

  “The farewell dinner is tomorrow night. It’s a formal event, so it’s always one of the highlights of the trip. Everyone loves getting dressed up and taking pictures with all their friends. It takes a lot of planning.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  She would love to spend some time in Nassau—and with Spencer—but she didn’t think it was in either of their best interest. There was a clear dividing line separating her and Spencer. She crossed that line yesterday. Now she needed to decide if she wanted to remain on her side of the line or rub it out for good.

  “I’ve been shirking my duties long enough. I need to start pulling my weight again. I need to chain myself to my desk for the next couple of days to make sure everything goes off without a hitch.”

  If she was disappointed by Amy’s answer, Spencer’s expression didn’t give her away. “Do you have any recommendations for me, at least?” she asked, sounding like a typical tourist on the hunt for one last grand adventure before her vacation came to an end.

  “The pirate museum is fun if you want to learn about the history of the island. If you want to chill out, relax, and get some sun, spread a towel on Junkanoo Beach and watch the waves roll in. If you want a more fast-paced adventure, try one of the powerboat tours. Just make sure you’re back here by three so I won’t have to send a search party after you.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Spencer said with a cheeky grin that offered a hint of the playful personality she normally kept hidden beneath her placid exterior. “I’ve never been involved in an international incident before. Tomorrow could be a good time to start.”

  “I’m responsible for you and the rest of the passengers on board until we drop anchor in Fort Lauderdale Saturday morning. Do I need to handcuff myself to you in order to keep you out of trouble?”

  “Handcuffing yourself to me might get me in trouble.”

  “You and me both.”

  Spencer’s lips parted slightly, reminding Amy of the kiss they had shared. Amy tried not to imagine all the sexy things she could do if she found herself shackled to Spencer for an hour or two. Preferably more.

  “I’ll let you get back to work,” Spencer said.

  “Right. Work.” The look in Spencer’s eyes had almost made her forget she had a job to do. “Will I see you at the dinner tomorrow night?”

  “You can count on it.”

  Amy could count on something else, too. When Spencer returned home in two days’ time, she would be taking part of her heart with her.

  Night Six

  The sixty contestants that had signed up for the poker tournament were competing for bragging rights instead of money. The “prize” that would be presented to the winner at the end of the event was a plastic replica of the coveted diamond-encrusted bracelet given out during the main event of the World Series of Poker, the high-stakes competition that drew thousands of entrants and fans to Las Vegas each year.

  Hannah and Maneet were eliminated from the competition long before S
OS’ poker tournament reached its latter stages, but Bonnie, along with eight other players, managed to make it to the final table. The nearly four dozen women who had been eliminated along the way lingered on the sidelines to see which player would end up with the winning hand.

  “I’ve always told Bonnie she has a better poker face than I do,” Hannah said after Spencer joined her and Maneet in the casino. “Right now, you’re reminding me of the old joke about a horse walking into a bar. Why the long face? You look more like you spent the afternoon drowning your sorrows instead of celebrating Jordan and Tatum’s good news.”

  In a way, she had. Her attempt to clear the air with Amy that afternoon had worked all too well. During their conversation, Amy had let her know in no uncertain terms how she felt about yesterday’s kiss. It hadn’t been as mind-blowing for her as it had been for Spencer. For Amy, the kiss had been a mistake. A lapse in judgment. Something she regretted. Something, in other words, not meant to be repeated.

  “I can’t believe this week is practically over.” Spencer had started the week with mixed emotions, and she was ending it the same way.

  “Time passes differently when you’re on vacation,” Maneet said. “The first few days seem to take forever. The rest pass in the blink of an eye. Before you know it, you’re back home dreaming about where you want to go next.”

  “I vote for Europe,” Hannah said. “I haven’t been in ages. Who’s with me?”

  “The riverboat cruise that Spencer won sounds nice,” Maneet said. “I might sign up for it before we leave so I can receive the discounted rate.”

  “Someone hand me my credit card and show me where to sign,” Hannah said. “I bet you thought you’d be done with us in a few days, didn’t you, Spencer? No such luck.”

  “I guess I’ll see you next year,” Spencer said as Bonnie laid down a royal flush to win the poker tournament. “It seems like it was just yesterday that we arrived. Now it’s almost time to leave. Tomorrow’s our last stop before we make the turn for home.”

  “That’s why you have to make the most of every minute.” Hannah nuzzled the side of Maneet’s neck. “I know I intend to.”