Luck is a Lady

by CJ England

  Taking a deep breath, she stalked up to the nearest worker. “Excuse me. I'm looking for the manager."

  The man smiled. “Sorry miss. The boat doesn't sail until 6:00pm."

  Lara looked around at the messy dining room. “I'm not looking for a cruise. I'm the new owner."

  There was the sound of crashing dishes as a waitress dropped a stack of plates. Everyone in the room gawked at her.

  The worker swallowed. “You're El Kincade?"

  "Yes. L. Kincade. Lara. What's wrong with everyone?"

  "But you're a woman,” one of the bartenders whispered loudly.

  Lara rolled her eyes. “Last time I checked. So what?"

  "It's just the owners have always been men in the past. We're just a little surprised.” The worker looked at the others uncomfortably.

  "That was then and this is now,” Lara said. She gestured around the room. “What the hell happened here?"

  The bartender sniffed. “Last night's party got out of hand."

  "I can see that,” Lara commented dryly.

  "I'll go get Stan,” the man she'd first spoken to said quickly.

  "Wait!” Lara called after him. “What's your name?"

  "I'm Tim, miss. Be right back.” He was off like a shot down the long corridor.

  Lara looked back around the room. “Could you all come over here, so I can meet you?"

  All the people in the room wandered over and stood in front of the bar. There were about fifteen all together, from a pimply-faced boy to an old woman that reminded Lara of her Grandma Ellen.

  One by one they gave their name and why they were there. There were Missy, Tricia and Donna, the cocktail servers, then Sandy and Bernard who tended bar. She had just met Tommy and Caleb who bussed tables and did general clean up when a tall skinny man with a protruding Adam's apple strode into the room, followed closely by Tim.

  "What's this?” he inquired fussily. “Who do you think you are?"

  Lara narrowed her eyes. This guy sounded too much like Gerald Kravitz. She lifted an eyebrow. “I don't think anything. I know I'm your boss."

  The man's mouth opened and closed like a fish. “You ... you're a girl."

  Lara fisted her hand on her hips. She had quite enough of that. Her temper sparked dangerously. “Being the owner of this ship doesn't require a penis.” The gurgle of laughter she heard helped calm her. When the man's mouth dropped open even further, she bit back a laugh herself. “What is your name?"

  He reddened and cleared his throat. “I'm ... Stan Falk. I am the manager here."

  She looked around the room meaningfully. “And what exactly are you managing?"

  "This wasn't my fault,” he said quickly. “It was a group of football players. We tried to get them to calm down."

  "Did you call the police?"

  His eyes widened. “The police? Of course not. That would be bad publicity."

  Lara sighed, knowing he was partially right. Any type of publicity while the ship looked like it did would be bad. “Tell me you at least got a damage deposit."

  Stan puffed out his chest. “Of course."

  "That's something,” Lara muttered. She knew she wasn't getting off to a very good start with her manager. Last thing she wanted to do was act like some of the bosses she'd had in the past. But the mess ... She sighed again.

  "Tell you what. I've got a lot to go over with you. Why don't you make sure all the books and receipts are available, and we will talk in a little while."

  The manager swallowed and nodded. “Yes, ma'am."

  "Please,” she said quickly. “It's Lara. Lara to everyone. I want us all to be on a first name basis."

  He nodded again and turned to leave.

  "Wait,” called Lara. “Before you go ... do we have any reservations for the next few days?"

  Frowning, Stan shook his head. “No, ma’ ... Lara. Most of our guests are walk-ups. The football players were a special group.” Without another word he scampered from the room as if all the hounds of hell were following him.

  "Good!” Lara took another deep breath. It was time to begin. Start as you mean to go was her motto. She turned to Tim. “Can you please go put up a sign on the gate that says Closed for Renovations for me?

  "We're closing down?” one of the other workers asked, worry filling her face.

  "No,” Lara spoke quickly. She'd been in fear of losing her job before and knew how it felt. She didn't want that same sense of hopelessness here. “Not for good. I plan on fixing up The Lucky Lady, and to do that we have to close down for a while."

  She looked around at all the workers. “I know it might be hard, but I'm willing to keep you all on during the renovation. If you help me get the work done quickly, there will be a bonus in it for each of you."

  Their faces cleared immediately.

  "What do you need us to do?” Tim asked.

  Lara smiled in relief. “After I finish meeting you all, you can just continue what you are doing ... cleaning up. Then, after I've had a chance to look around and talk to Stan, I'll give you my game plan. Okay?"

  Everyone grinned back at her and nodded. Obviously she wasn't the only one relieved. Then her attention was caught by the four people at the end of the line. Theirs were the only faces that weren't smiling. In fact they looked quite grim.

  She walked over to the woman closest to her. It was the older lady. The one that looked like her Grandma Ellen, with a sweet face and sharp intelligent blue eyes. She was wearing clothes right out of the early 1900's, a black organdy formal dress and wide brimmed hat. Lara smiled. She must be one of the entertainers on the ship. “And you are?"

  The woman's mouth dropped open and she looked around her. “Are you speaking to me?"

  Lara frowned. “Yes ... what's your name?"

  The woman shook her head slowly. “My goodness. You really are the owner and a female to boot. How about that? Lara Kincade, is it?"

  Trying hard not to be annoyed, Lara nodded. “We've established who I am. I'm asking you your name and what you do here."

  The old lady gave a trill of laughter. “That's a good one.” She hit the young woman standing next to her with a large cavernous purse. “You can call me Lottie, my dear, and what I do is play cards. I'm one of your guests."

  "My guest?” Lara questioned. “You were out with the football players?” She just couldn't see this sweet, albeit daffy old lady out with a group of testosterone filled party animals.

  But Lottie nodded. “Oh yes, dearie. I go out every night."

  Lara shook her head. “Okay ... but why are you still here? I'm sorry, but as you heard, there won't be any trips out for awhile."

  The old lady still smiled sweetly. “As you youngsters say, no worries. I ... sort of live on the boat.” She motioned at the other people standing near her. “We all do."

  Blinking at the astonishing statement, Lara turned to the young girl standing next to Lottie. She was also dressed as an entertainer with a long flowing peach gown and a heavily made up face. With short blond hair and hazel eyes, she was quite pretty in a hard sort of way. But she was staring at Lara with an expression of hostility in her mascaraed eyes.

  She didn't wait for Lara's question. “I'm Diana."

  "Are you a singer?"

  The anger in the young girl's eyes lessened fractionally. “I was.” Then her chin lifted. “I am."

  Lara sighed at the short answers. “And you live on the ship as well?"

  "Didn't you hear Lottie? We all do.” She waved a languid hand at the two men to her left. “That's Charlie and Malcolm. They're stuck in this hellhole, too!"

  "Diana...” hissed Lottie. “Watch your language."

  The girl rolled her eyes. “Oh please. In this day and age, they say a lot worse!” She looked back at Lara. “I'll bet she has."

  Lara couldn't stop a grin. “Oh yeah, a few times."

  There was an exaggerated clearing of the throat and she turned to see a dapper older man with silver hair and a handlebar mustach
e who must have been in his sixties. His clothes were also right out of the early 1900s. “Sir?"

  The man smiled in delight as his green eyes sparkled. “Did you hear everyone? She knows who I am?” He had a thick British accent.

  Confusion was fast becoming a constant companion. “I'm sorry ... but I don't."

  He looked utterly crestfallen for a moment, but then he lifted his chin imperiously. “Of course you don't. How silly of me. I am Sir Malcolm Finch, late of his majesty's army."

  "His majesty's?"

  He took off his shiny black top hat, adopting a military pose. “His majesty, King Edward VII.” He put his hat back on and gave Lara a wink. “Quite a ladies man, he was."

  "Was he?” Lara stared at the old soldier. He was obviously crazy.

  "Oh yes,” the old man went blithely on. Then he tipped his hat at Lara. “He would have liked you."

  "Oh for God's sake, Malcolm."

  "That's Sir Malcolm to you, young lady.” He glared at the irritated Diana. “I'll have you know I knew the king personally. Why back in 1896..."

  "Enough, Sir Malcolm,” Lottie broke in quickly. “Lara doesn't want to hear about that right now.” She smiled again. “She's got too much to do to hear old war stories."

  Seeing Sir Malcolm's face was turning red, Lara jumped in quickly. “Maybe you can tell me later, when I'm not so rushed. That way I can appreciate the story ... properly."

  "Of course, my dear,” Sir Malcolm said with a small bow. “Most happy to."

  That was a crisis averted. Lara shook her head. What odd people. And the old man was obviously a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

  Her eyes found the young boy standing between Diana and the old knight. Tall and gangly in his crewman's clothing, he looked like a young colt that hadn't grown into his legs yet. He had short blond hair and grey eyes and was looking up at Diana with such a worshipful look on his face, Lara realized immediately he had a crush on her. Diana was only a few years his senior, but at that age ... it meant everything.

  "What's your name?” she asked him.

  His gaze dropped shyly to his scuffed shoes. “I'm Charlie, miss. I help the captain."

  Lara's eyes widened. “I have a captain too? I didn't think about that?” She looked around at the gathered employees who were all staring at her oddly. “Where is he?"

  Diana snorted out a laugh. “The captain goes where he wants. He's not answerable to anyone."

  "Now Diana,” Lottie remonstrated with the younger girl, “you don't want Lara to get the wrong impression.” She looked at Lara. “The captain is a good man. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

  "Sure ... whatever,” Lara agreed absently. “But where would he be right now?"

  "Most likely wherever they aren't.” Diana pointed at the other people as she spoke.

  Lara thought she understood. “Not a people person, huh?"

  The four all laughed out loud.

  "That, my dear,” giggled Lottie, “is an understatement."

  "Still ... I'll need to meet him.” She turned to Tim who was watching her with a look of concern on his face. “Can you get the captain for me?"

  His eyes flicked in the direction she'd been staring. “Captain?"

  "Yes, the captain. I'll need him to walk the ship with me. Show me around. Maybe tell me what he thinks needs to be fixed first."

  "You must mean Mr. Tuttle, ma'am."

  "No,” whispered Charlie from behind her. “That's not the captain."

  Lara turned back to the younger man. “It's not?"

  He shook his head wildly. “No miss, he's a pretender."

  "You are confusing the poor girl, Charlie. She doesn't understand,” gruffed Sir Malcolm.

  "I will if someone tells me. Why is Mr. Tuttle a pretender?"

  "Mr. Tuttle isn't a pretender, ma'am. He runs the ship.” Tim stared at her with the same look of puzzlement she herself was feeling.

  "My head is beginning to hurt,” muttered Lara.

  "I have some laudanum,” offered Lottie as she dug around in her big purse. “Will that help?” She pulled a small brown bottle out with a victorious smile.

  "Okay ... stop.” Lara put up her hands. She turned to Tim. “Charlie says Mr. Tuttle isn't the captain. So who is he?"

  Tim's eyes opened wide. His mouth opened and closed again. “Charlie?"

  Now Lara was getting mad. Were they all crazy or just stupid? “Charlie. Standing right there.” She pointed. “Right next to Diana. I know you can't miss her."

  Tim swallowed and took a step backwards. His face had gone pale. “I don't know who you're talking about, miss."

  "I said to call me Lara,” she bellowed, finally out of patience. She marched over and grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to stand in front of the buxom entertainer. “This is Diana and this,” she said pointing right at the wide-eyed boy, “is Charlie.” She glared up at her frozen employee. “Now tell me you don't know who I'm talking about."

  Tim didn't say a word. Just stared straight ahead of him.

  "Lara,” whispered Lottie gently. “He can't see us. None of them can."

  She stared down at the old woman. “What the hell do you mean?"

  Lottie ignored Diana's snigger at Lara's swearing. “You are the only one who can see us, dearie. It's been that way since the beginning. Only the owner of The Lucky Lady can."

  Now it was Lara whose mouth opened and closed like a guppy. “You're kidding me right?"

  Diana laughed. “Nope. She's dead serious. Haven't you figured it out yet?"

  "Figured out what?"

  Lottie looked up at Lara's confused face with that same sweet smile. “We're ghosts, dear."

  Chapter Two

  Lara couldn't believe what she'd heard. “Ghosts?” She looked back at Tim and the others. They were still staring at her like she'd lost her mind. “This is a joke ... right? Play an early Halloween prank on the new owner?"

  "No, my dear,” Malcolm spoke jovially. “It tells us you are the true owner of this fine vessel. Dearest Lottie is correct. Only the owner can see us."

  "But you are the first to speak with us,” Charlie offered. His face went red. “Mostly they just screamed or told us to leave."

  Diana laughed cruelly. “And then they left themselves."

  Still in shock, Lara turned back to Tim and the others. “Tell me you see them. Four people. Two men and two women."

  "Sorry, Lara.” Sandy the bartender looked as scared as Lara felt. “There isn't anyone there. Maybe you should lie down for awhile."

  "I'm not sick,” she almost shouted. “There are four people in really weird outfits standing right there."

  "Well...” Diana tossed her head. “That was rude."

  Lara ignored the comment. “Okay ... fun is fun. But we have a business to get going here. So joke's over."

  No one moved or spoke. They just all stood staring at her.

  "Come on guys,” Lara began to get angry. “Let's get back to work. Tim, you and Charlie go find Mr. Tuttle and the mysterious captain and bring them to me."

  Still no one moved.

  Sir Malcolm finally cleared his throat. “I think we are going to have to prove it to her before she frightens all the mortals away."

  "Isn't that the goal?” Diana asked dryly.

  "No, no. What fun would it be if everyone were gone?” Lottie shook her head at the woman. “Sometimes I think you have no sense."

  "Look who's talking. You don't see me trying to put money into those infernal machines. You're dead, Lottie. You can't gamble."

  Two red spots appeared on the old woman's cheeks. “But I miss it so."

  "Enough, ladies.” Sir Malcolm walked over and offered them his arm. “If we don't show her, she'll never believe it.” He nodded at the young boy. “Charlie, come along now."

  With that, the four bowed to Lara. They turned, and to her astonished eyes, walked straight through the wall.

  The last thought Lara had as she fainted was she hoped t
he vomit was only on the wall and not on the floor.

  * * * *

  Lara woke up to the pungent odor of smelling salts. She coughed and pushed away the hand that was holding them under her nose. “Get those away from me!"

  "Are you all right, dearie?"

  Slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the worried face of Lottie. She gazed around her, seeing she was in a small room that was sparsely furnished. Diana leaned against the wall across the room, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling.

  "How did I get here?"

  "That nice Tim carried you in here. Such a handsome young man. They all thought you were just tired and needed a nap. They are still out there cleaning up,” Lottie answered.

  She blinked a couple of times before it all raced back. That memory wasn't one she'd soon forget. “Oh God, you really are ghosts."

  The sweet faced lady smiled. “That's right, dear. Though we prefer to be called Ethereals. Ghost has such an unpleasant connotation to it, don't you think?"

  Lara shook her head. “It's true then. I did see you go through the wall. I'm not crazy."

  "Of course not!” Diana took a drag on the long thin cigarette she was smoking. “You're not crazy ... just cursed."

  Lara sat straight up in the bed she was lying on. “What?"

  "Now don't get ahead of yourself, Lara dear.” Lottie glared at Diana through the smoke that curled around the woman's pale head. “Those coffin nails are going to kill you, Diana."

  Diana gave a smirk. “Then it's a good thing I'm already dead!"

  Lara shook her head dizzily. “Don't get off the subject. What curse?"

  Lottie sighed. “It's a long story and one that isn't fully ours to tell. Suffice it to say one of your ancestors did something and now all the Kincades are paying for it."

  "You're here because of a curse?"

  "Got it in one.” Diana touched the tip of her nose with a forefinger. “You're a smart girl. Smarter than the men who preceded you, that's for sure."