by Destiny Moon
“So you say. I can’t say I understand it. She’s not much of a lady.”
“Neither am I.” I winked.
He was dressed and out of the room before I even left the warmth of my bed.
Chapter Eight
Sam seemed the kind of woman who would be put off by dresses and fancy outfits. She would not be interested in accessories or frills. She was a pragmatist, and so I decided to wear plain jeans, a simple, white turtleneck sweater and my hair in a ponytail. She had won the first round, but I had a plan. I’ve always prided myself on being an excellent judge of character. I was not sure what I wanted to transpire between us, but I was determined to get a reaction from her. I was very demanding of everyone’s attention—I needed the rush of knowing that everyone in the room wanted me. She had held out on me—determined, perhaps, to stay faithful to whomever was waiting for her on land. But things, it seems, are different at sea. Things happen on the water that become legend, quite literally detached from anything else.
After a quick drink with the boys on the deck, I slipped into the kitchen quite casually, even though there was nothing casual about it.
“So, tell me about her,” I said to Sam, who was busily chopping vegetables.
“Who?”
“Your lover.”
“How do you know my lover is a woman?”
“Because I make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know your type. You’re not the first woman Hal has brought on board.”
“I’ll be the last, though.”
She stopped what she was doing, looked at me for a moment and shook her head. “So full of yourself.”
“I’m not saying it to be full of myself. I’m merely stating fact. But enough about me. Let’s talk about things you like. How long have you worked for Hal?”
“Since he bought the yacht. I’ve been on the yacht for the last two owners. She’s a beauty. That’s why she changes hands so often. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.”
She seemed pleased with herself every time she made a backhanded remark. It didn’t matter. There was something about her. Her level of comfort and security. Nothing fazed her. She didn’t care about the consequences of speaking her mind. God, I loved that.
“Yep. She’s been bought and sold by British corporals, an Australian tycoon…and now Mr Confederation himself.” She had such disdain for everyone. I flinched at her gruffness.
“But you’ve stayed loyal to the ship. Why?”
“Why not? Like I said, she’s a beauty. Look at the railings. She was built in the twenties. They don’t even make the kind of finishings that she’s equipped with anymore. We’ve been around the world together three times over. Hal doesn’t like to go far, but boy—that Australian, he sure did.”
“What do you do the rest of the time?”
“What do you mean?”
“On land.”
“As little as possible. Haven’t had a land job for decades.”
“So this yacht is the lady you’re saving yourself for, then?”
She smiled. Her eyes were warm with confusion. How had I figured out her conundrum? she seemed to be wondering. How did I know anything about her at all? I loved to prove people wrong when they expected so little of me. How quickly her tone changed. She pointed her knife at me, bobbing it up and down. She’d been had, all right. And she had nothing to say for herself.
“Join me on the deck for a drink,” I commanded.
“I can’t. I’m working.”
“You’re going to work yourself to death. Learn to live a little,” I insisted.
She continued chopping, not even remotely considering my invitation. “This is how Hal wants it.”
“Hal this, Hal that. I thought you had a mind of your own.”
“I also have a job that I love.”
“Well, Hal’s busy anyway. Besides, I’m pleading with you.” I smiled. “And I’m relentless.”
“Fine. Then you have to come back with me and help me.”
“What?”
“You heard me, woman.” She was pleased with herself at this phrase.
“You’re on.” I reached my outstretched hand towards hers and we shook on the deal.
“For the rest of the trip,” she said, still shaking my hand.
I nodded. I didn’t know what else to do.
Outside, on the deck, Sam’s skin had a healthy glow. I hadn’t noticed inside but in the sun her boyish face was ageing nicely. She had just a few smile lines around her eyes and one that went across the bridge of her nose. All seemed like indications of fascinating experiences.
She only stayed on the deck with me for the duration of the obligatory drink. Then she excused herself to finish taking inventory and make up a list of groceries for the rest of the trip.
It was mid afternoon when we pulled into the harbour at Duke’s Point for refuelling and refreshing of supplies. That night and early the following morning, I savoured every moment before I had to get to work at Sam’s job. I stayed alone on board the yacht, unsure why everyone else was so eager to get off. I wanted a glimpse of Sam’s introverted life.
Timothy and Hal took a walk into the city. Sam and the captain and his first mate went off in separate directions. I retired to my bedroom, determined to convince Sam to fuck me before Florida. It had started as a matter of principle but it had become a matter of great need. How could she go on like this? Was she as cruel and uninterested as she let on? Then why was she so much fun?
Timothy’s face was pale when he and Hal returned with lobsters for tonight’s dinner. They had been to town, where Timothy had found a payphone and called his wife.
“She’s meeting us at the harbour in Florida,” he announced.
“Great,” I said, “the more the merrier.” I had been hoping, for Timothy’s wife’s sake, that she was an imaginary figure—a story, just like the ones he told about his hard work in New York City. He only ever spoke of her as a nag and a horribly controlling woman. But speaking of spouses when they aren’t present, especially in like-minded company, can often lead to less than complimentary descriptions. How did I figure in Hal’s discussions when we were apart? It didn’t much matter to me, as long as we enjoyed each other when we were able to be together.
“She’s not like us.” He looked concerned.
“No one is like us,” Hal said. “We’re quite the motley collection.” And his warm laughter melted my heart. I felt as though I belonged here. I had experienced friendship so few times, and I have come to believe that true friendship exists in magical moments, cut off from long-term commitments. I was able to put aside my scepticism while we were sailing because there were so many better things to do. There is no point in being doubtful of other people’s motivations when you’re at sea. It’s more like a primal need to get along laced with the eternal will to survive.
Hal and I clinked our glasses in the afternoon sun. “Do you know her?” I asked.
“Haven’t met her. I hear she’s quite the lady,” Hal said. And as he said it, it occurred to me that ‘lady’ could be a derogatory term.
I had been aspiring to become one even though I knew, deep down, that I could never attain that kind of stature. I could fake it but, on some level, a lady is born rather than made. Maybe it didn’t matter. When men spoke of ladies, they would say the word in a way that suggested something else. I had a feeling that Timothy’s wife was a monster.
“What does that mean, ‘she’s quite the lady’?” I asked them both.
“It means she’s nothing like you,” Timothy said, point blank.
“But what does that mean?”
“It means we like you.” Hal laughed.
“You don’t like your wife?” I looked at Timothy. “What are you with her for, then?”
“It’s complicated.” He sipped his martini.
“In other words, it’s for the ca
sh,” I whispered as Hal turned to reach for the ice bucket.
Timothy said nothing to my statement. He looked down as though he was thinking about it for a brief second, then he shook it from his conscience altogether, smiled at me and clinked my glass. “To the greatest lady I’ve ever known.” He raised his martini high in the air and Hal, who hadn’t been paying attention until just then, turned to me and said, “Here, here. The greatest lady ever.”
It seemed somehow strange that they were so adamant in their accolades for me. I had never quite felt as if I’d belonged with anyone before, but maybe the reason was quite simply that I hadn’t. I’d never had girlfriends growing up. They hadn’t interested me—they’d seemed so silly and uptight. I felt as if Hal and Timothy had become excellent friends.
“Well, boys, I have to go. Sam needs me in the kitchen.”
“You’re working?” Hal was shocked.
“Serving, actually. Serving her. I’m doing whatever she wants me to do.”
“Why?” Timothy asked.
“It’s complicated.” I laughed. “And she’s hot. What’s a girl to do?” I strutted out of the cabin and left them staring, shaking their heads, confused by something I knew they could not see.
In the kitchen, Sam had her head in the fridge. I didn’t think she’d heard me come in, but she mumbled, “You’re late.” Then she looked at me. “What are you wearing?”
I eyed my white turtleneck and jeans and shrugged.
“This is kitchen work, sweetie.” She was so firm. “Get changed.”
“But this is the most casual outfit I have.” It was true. When Hal had bought me a wardrobe before we’d left, I hadn’t thought I would need work slacks. I’d only bought dresses and this pair of designer jeans.
“It figures.” She rolled her eyes in my direction. “You can’t wear your fancy clothes in my kitchen. Take them off and put this on instead.” She tossed a white bundle to me. I caught it mid-air.
I looked at the fabric. It was just an apron. Two could definitely play at this game. I undressed, neatly folded and placed my clothes in a pile underneath the counter. The apron could not possibly cover my erect nipples. I was sure Sam had planned it that way. I was incredibly turned on at the idea that she might take me right there in the kitchen.
“I need these mushrooms cleaned and washed,” she said, handing me a big, stainless steel bowl.
“Are you serious?” I was disbelieving. Hadn’t she just asked me to get undressed? Had I missed something?
“Get to work,” she barked.
Fine, I thought. Suit yourself.
But she was suiting herself. This was exactly what she wanted—to drive me crazy with desire and to then further pretend that she did not care at all. It was so strange. I stood there, naked, rinsing mushrooms in her sink with a tiny, gentle-bristled brush. She wasn’t even looking at me from her side of the kitchen, where she was busy with various containers. If I hadn’t been naked and aroused, I would have felt as if I were working in the kitchen with my mother, or working as a prep cook in some dodgy restaurant somewhere with a very stern manager. This was not the kind of fun I had been expecting. It was more than fun. It was strange. Like meeting someone more adept at playing the part of me than I was.
“I’m finished,” I said, once I had inspected all the mushrooms and carefully placed them in a new bowl.
“We’ll see about that.” She came up behind me. The heat that radiated off her body was more than I could handle. I wanted to melt back into her and feel my skin against hers. I could feel her breath on my neck as she leaned over me. She was quite a bit larger than me, a really staunch-looking, capable woman. She, predictably, did not seem fazed at all by our closeness. She was, after all, wearing pants. It was me who was the more susceptible of the two of us.
“This won’t do,” she said. “Look, here—what’s this?” She picked one of the white mushrooms out of the bowl and held it close to my face. “See?”
I shook my head.
“Dirt.”
“Where?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t see it. You were negligent and you know it. And you know what happens to negligent kitchen girls…”
“No.” It was true. I didn’t.
“They get punished. They have to do the same chore over again.” She looked me in the eye. Had it been anyone but her, I would have assumed they were joking, but Sam didn’t look amused. “You heard me. Get to work.” She put the bowl down so hard that some of the mushrooms ricocheted off the side and spilled into the sink.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“What was that you said?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated, and gulped.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Yes, sir,” I repeated.
“And you can think about that while you clean this next round.”
“I will, sir.”
My hands were wrinkled and pruny by the time I called her back over, and she still managed to find a tiny speck of dirt, even though I had spent almost an hour ensuring each mushroom’s utter perfection. She was unbelievable.
Then she assigned a most putrid task. She ordered me to scrub the floors on my hands and knees.
“You do realise I’m not wearing anything,” I pointed out, trying to appeal to her sympathy, which I learned was futile wishful thinking on my part.
“I guess it’ll be easier for you to clean yourself up afterwards,” she said.
Some sympathetic character she was. My perfectly exfoliated, perfectly waxed, perfectly moisturised legs on this filthy floor? I almost refused. But this was a meeting of minds and if anyone was determined, it was me. There was no way I would back out on anything, no matter how far she pushed me. How far could she possibly push me?
I started by sweeping. Then I got down with a bucket of hot, soapy water, a hard brush and a thick rag, and began. My nails felt as if they were going to peel right off my fingers. The soap stung my skin and my knees went immediately red. All I could think about was her approval. I tried to guess what she would disapprove of next. She was impossible to please.
It took me two hours but I scrubbed the filthy floor to perfection. I almost thought she had forgotten about me, because she left without saying a word. I had been tempted to stop when I’d finished the initial scrub, but I’d known better than to walk away before she’d had a chance to come and inspect my work.
By the time she came back, I was ready to burst into tears. I had worked so hard. I was sweaty and felt awful and she had pushed me so far. My hair was a mess, I had dirt under my nails and my knees were scraped. I had even slipped on the floor and had a bruise on my hip from the fall.
“I’m finished, sir,” I said when she came back.
“Are you sure about that?” She smiled. She wasn’t bothered at all that I had slaved away for her all afternoon.
“I’m fairly certain, sir.”
“Not entirely certain?”
“Well, no, sir. Not until you inspect my work, sir.” My face was flushed. I was so tired, I felt like fainting.
“Good girl,” Sam stated as a matter of fact.
They were the first nice words she’d said to me since we’d met.
I beamed. I could feel myself blushing. I could feel the rush of her attention on me. Things would change now, I was sure. Oh, yes, she was coming to see what a great servant I could be, and I had earned her respect with my diligence.
“Now, get to work on the bathroom.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I thought that…”
“You thought that what? This was some kind of game? That I don’t really mean what I say? You think I’m giving you orders for you to ignore them? Is that what you think?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s better. Now, scrub that bathroom. I don’t want a single speck in there. Every surface disinfected. You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
With tha
t, she left again. I wondered what I was doing there in my apron, naked and hurting. Had I not agreed to be Hal’s lady? This was not what ladies did. So why was I here? Why couldn’t I prise myself away from Sam’s relentless task giving?
She came back only to dismiss me for the evening.
“Your job here is done. I’ll see you tomorrow morning bright and early for the breakfast shift. Come dressed appropriately this time.” Then she walked away. She didn’t even look me up and down, just mumbled under her breath, “You’re filthy. Clean yourself up.”
Chapter Nine
Upstairs, I tried to avoid Hal and Timothy, but inevitably that kind of plan fails. Hal just happened to be in our room, getting dressed for drinks on the deck, and he saw me. I hadn’t even bothered to put my jeans back on. I just walked up with my dirty apron barely covering anything.
“What happened to you?” He chuckled.
“Sam. That’s what.”
He started laughing. I thought it was unfair.
“She’s quite the stern one,” he said.
I wasn’t sure how he’d intuited that I was dirty from cleaning and not from having dirty sex all over the kitchen with Sam. Somehow that seemed unfair, too. Was I that transparent?
“Stern, yeah, that’s an understatement,” I said as I picked up my silk robe and walked into the bathroom to shower.
Upstairs, it became obvious that Hal had filled Timothy in on my day with Sam.
“So what’d she make you do?” Hal pestered. Timothy studied me intently.
“Never mind.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“Look, you know nothing about it. You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t get it.” I was tired, cranky and confused.
“Maybe not. But I would like my pillow fluffed. Would you be a doll and get that for me?” Timothy just couldn’t help himself.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such an ass.” I kicked his ankle under the table.
Then I remembered that I also had leverage. It wasn’t the greatest feeling to have your friends at sea turn on you. There was nowhere to retreat to, nothing to do about it. Still, I couldn’t help myself when it came to engaging in the other side of the equation.
