“No. But your answer was…informative.” She felt her body tense with arousal as her mind drifted over the possibilities of what was in that bag. She struggled to rein in her imagination. Why was she so easily captivated by this odd woman, anyway? She didn’t usually go for the carefree bohemian type, no matter how pretty they were. Way too unpredictable. There will be lots of other women on this cruise, she reminded herself. No need to get attached to the first one I meet! She glanced at the woman's legs and felt a stab of regret. There were bound to be better matches yet to come, but they would almost certainly not come with legs like these.
“I wonder when the others will arrive,” Eleanor said, then wished she hadn't. Saying the words out loud flooded her with the realization of how many other introductions she had yet to suffer through, and her lungs tightened like she was about to drown. I'm barely surviving the first encounter. I'll never make it!
“The others haven’t arrived yet?” Jeanie seemed surprised. “I assumed I was running so late that the meet and greet was over and everyone else had already left.”
“Running late?” Eleanor’s eyes widened in alarm. “I arrived half an hour early.” I couldn’t have slept that long, could I? Her heart was pounding wildly again, suddenly unsure. She’d been exhausted, but could she really have remained passed out in the middle of a crowd? Anything could have happened to me! Her breathing became shallow, and she nearly jumped out of her own skin in panic when Jeanie grabbed her arm.
“It’s only a few minutes past three,” Jeanie informed her after reading the time off Eleanor’s wristwatch. She let go of Eleanor’s arm. “Sorry. I wouldn’t normally have grabbed you like that, but you sort of froze with the watch halfway to your face.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry,” Eleanor mumbled, mortified. I'm making a complete fool of myself. “Well, then I guess everyone else is just running even later than you were.”
“That would be a first!”
A woman who’s perpetually late? Eleanor cocked an eyebrow as she considered this revelation. Definitely not my type. “Statistically it’s much more likely they switched the location of the event than that every other person on board is running late, you know,” she lectured, forgetting that she was the one to have suggested the possibility in the first place. “We should probably try to find out.”
Jeanie nodded amiably, apparently willing to overlook Eleanor’s scolding tone. They walked side by side across the deck and into the semi-darkness of the ship. Eleanor took off her sunglasses and blinked, momentarily blinded. She was still trying to get her bearings when Jeanie grabbed her elbow, and the electromagnetic hum inside her started up once more, completely beyond her control.
“Oh, there’s Rolfe! He’ll know what’s going on.” Jeanie gave Eleanor’s arm a tug, dragging her along as she raced after the crew member. “Rolfe!”
The man stopped and turned, an expectant look on his face. “Oh, Miss Jeanie! How can I help?”
“Do you know him?” Eleanor asked in a half whisper as they approached.
“That’s Rolfe.” Jeanie said it as though it should be obvious. “He was the one who was checking everyone in for the cruise.”
Eleanor squinted at the man’s face until she thought he might seem vaguely familiar. “Oh, right.” Apparently Jeanie possessed an uncanny memory for names and faces. It was an ability that Eleanor had never been able to cultivate. It wasn't that she didn't care, but she knew that's how it came across sometimes. She envied the ease with which this woman seemed to make friends.
Jeanie smiled sweetly at the man. “Rolfe, we were out on the observation deck for the meet and greet, but no one was there.”
“It’s been moved to the lounge on C deck,” the man replied. “Easier on the knees without all the stairs.”
“Oh, okay.” Jeanie turned to look at Eleanor. “Would you like to head down and see what we missed?”
“I suppose so,” Eleanor replied with a practiced shrug, though she wasn’t certain why the cruise line was concerned with their knees. As Jeanie strode ahead, Eleanor’s eyes were drawn to the shadowy crease in her skirt where the woman’s long legs met and a rather naughty explanation for saving her knee-strength popped into her mind. She snorted softly, half convinced that her nap in the sun had fried her brain beyond repair. She wasn’t feeling like herself at all.
As they rode the elevator to C deck, an awkward silence settled between them. Eleanor conjured up images of the hundreds of single women who even now were packed into the lounge. Her heart fluttered and flapped, less from excitement and more with the desperation of a bird trying to escape its cage. She sympathized with her heart's desire to flee, one hundred percent. She would do just about anything to get out of this situation right now!
The elevator door opened with a ding. “I don’t…I don’t think…,” she stammered as a murmur of voices from the lounge reached her ears and she felt the now-familiar blind panic begin to descend.
“Come on, this way!” Jeanie grabbed her by the hand, sprinting the last few steps and leaving Eleanor no chance of escape.
You wouldn’t normally grab me, huh? I don’t think I believe you! Eleanor’s fingers tingled at her touch for at least the third time since they'd met. Her new acquaintance was very much the hands-on type, which was equal parts worrying and alluring. Being touched could be a nice thing, under the right circumstances, though Eleanor usually preferred some warning, and a little privacy, first.
They came to a full stop in front of the entrance to the lounge and stared into the crowded room in confusion. It was as packed as Eleanor had foreseen, but not with sexy ladies. No, before them instead was a room chock-full of gray haired old ladies, and bespectacled old gentlemen, too.
“What the hell?” Eleanor muttered in shock.
“Umm.” Jeanie’s face froze in confusion, then melted in relief. “There’s Thomas! He’ll know what’s going on.”
“Thomas? What, do you know everyone on this ship?” Her overwhelming confusion made her words sound sharper than she'd meant and she winced at how Jeanie would react.
“Not everyone,” Jeanie said dryly, seemingly without taking offense. “Not the two hundred senior citizens in lounge C, for starters.” Jeanie strode toward the man she’d identified as Thomas as Eleanor raced to catch up. “But I was chatting with Thomas earlier while he helped me with my bags, so I imagine he can help now.”
Chatting with a porter over luggage? Who does that? Eleanor’s forehead wrinkled in bewilderment. The fact that someone as friendly as Jeanie existed brought her own social failings into stark contrast.
“Thomas, do you know anything about the lesbian singles cruise?” Jeanie asked when they’d reached the smiling porter.
“Yes, of course!” he responded with an eager nod.
“Oh,” Jeanie patted the sleeve of the man’s uniform, letting out a happy sigh. “That’s wonderful news!”
“Yes, my cousin said it was fantastic.”
“Oh, how nice! So you have a single cousin who’s a les—”
“I’m sorry,” Eleanor interrupted, sensing that this conversation would go off course quickly with Jeanie at the helm. “Was fantastic?”
“Yes, she was raving about it a few weeks ago when I saw her in Vienna.”
“But that cruise starts today,” Eleanor corrected with a scowl.
“No,” Thomas corrected. “It was last month.”
“There’s obviously some sort of mistake.” Eleanor reached into her bag and pulled out the schedule, waving the paper in front of Thomas’ face. “This is what we’re talking about. See, right here. It says the meet and greet is at three o’clock on July the sixth. It’s printed right there. Seven-six.”
“Yes, I see. Seven-six. The seventh of June.”
“So, she was on last month’s cruise?” Jeanie smiled nervously.
Adrenaline crackled through Eleanor's body as she realized the potential magnitude of the mistake. It made her insides feel crinkly and before she could
stop herself, she snapped. “Honestly, Jeanie, just how much demand do you think there is for lesbian singles cruises?” Eleanor shot her an incredulous look. “You booked the wrong month. You’ve mixed up the European way of writing dates with the American way.”
“Well, so have you,” Jeanie pointed out.
“I most certainly have not.” Irrational annoyance at the accusation made Eleanor’s insides prickle. When it came to numbers, Eleanor didn’t make mistakes. “My sister did. I would never do something so foolish.”
“Oh. I see.”
Her voice was quiet, but something in the underlying tone made Eleanor realize she’d said the wrong thing. Why can't I stop myself from sounding insulting when I don't mean it? Her stomach clenched and she turned to Thomas, hoping she could find a way to salvage the situation. “So, if this isn’t the lesbian singles cruise, would you happen to know what it is?”
“Yes, of course. It’s senior swingers.”
“Swingers?” Eleanor was sure her face had turned a sickly green. Key parties and trading partners? At their age?
“I think he means swing dancers, Eleanor.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed at the smug expression on her new acquaintance’s face. The woman had clearly read her thoughts. “I knew that,” she snapped.
Jeanie studied her for a moment, blinking slowly and not buying Eleanor’s assertion one iota, but she didn’t press the issue.
“Sorry, yes, swing dancers. Sometimes my English gets confused. They’ll have lessons and dancing every day during the cruise. You can join them, no problem.”
The forlorn expression Jeanie had worn ever since the news that she had booked the wrong cruise suddenly brightened with a broad grin. “Really? That would be okay?”
“Of course! You just need to upgrade and you can attend all the classes you want.”
“Upgrade.” Jeanie's smile faded and her brow creased. “It costs extra?”
Eleanor took in the woman's crestfallen expression with dismay. Janie… Jenny?… is much too pretty to look so sad! Her back stiffened indignantly and she gave the steward a stern look. “Now look here, Timothy.”
“Thomas,” Jeanie corrected.
“Whatever. The way I see it, the cruise company is as much to blame for this error as either one of us. You should know better than to use European dates on an American website without making it more clear. It's misleading.”
“Well, I—”
“You're really lucky we don't sue.” Eleanor bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling as Thomas' face blanched. She would never dream of following through on her threat, but she knew Americans enjoyed an international reputation for their love of litigation, and she was more than willing to use that to her advantage. “But I think, as a sign of goodwill, the company can make it up to us by offering a free upgrade.”
“I… I can check, ma'am. What is your name and room number?”
“Eleanor Fielding. I'm in the Empire suite.”
At the mention of her room, the steward turned white as a sheet. “Yes, Ms. Fielding. Of course. We would be happy to add the classes to your ticket immediately. No additional charge.”
“And my friend.” It was not a question.
“Yes, ma'am. It would be my pleasure to accommodate you both.” He glanced back and forth between the women nervously. “If you’ll excuse me, I have duties to attend to now, but I’ll have the schedule sent to you this evening.”
Eleanor nodded and turned to Jeanie, who was staring at her as if awestruck.
“That was… spectacular.”
Eleanor blushed, the woman's admiration giving her a thrill.
“Swing dancing!” Jeanie exclaimed, her eyes wide.
“Yes, swing dancing.” Eleanor shuddered. She hadn’t given much thought to concepts like hell since she quit going to temple shortly after her Bat Mitzvah, but she was pretty certain, if pressed to describe the details of that particular location, dancing would be one of its most prominent features. “Just our bad luck, I guess.”
“Bad luck? It’s marvelous!” Jeanie bobbed up and down on her toes with the enthusiasm of a small child on a sugar high. “Two full weeks of dance lessons! Haven’t you always wanted to learn?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on.” Jeanie smacked her palm playfully against Eleanor’s shoulder. “You’ll enjoy it once we get started!”
For the fourth time that afternoon, a shock of pleasure surged through her at the feel of Jeanie’s hand against her bare skin, but this time it was sorely at odds with the revulsion she felt at this particular proposition. “Absolutely not. I don’t dance.”
“But what else will you do?”
“Whatever I like!” Eleanor’s mind flashed back to the ship’s library and the tennis courts that she’d stared at longingly earlier in the day. “Maybe I’ll stay in my room and read the whole time.”
“What?” Jeanie appeared taken aback.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen all of these cities a dozen times before. I could make a whole list of things to do now that I’m free of any obligation to that ridiculous singles cruise. With the possible exception of dancing, I can’t think of anything I’d find less enjoyable than spending two weeks fending off a gaggle of desperate lesbians.”
“Oh.” The last remnants of a smile faded from Jeanie’s face. “I…”
Eleanor’s chest tightened as she realized too late how terrible that must have sounded. The way she'd described her previous travels made her sound spoiled, and obviously Jeanie didn't share her cynicism about the romantic prospects of this cruise. Why can't I ever say the right thing? She quickly attempted to smooth things over. “Look Janet, take the dance classes if you want to. Just because we are, quite literally, the only two eligible women on this cruise doesn’t mean we’re obligated to spend any time together,” she ended her rambling with an awkward laugh.
Jeanie drew in a slow breath, squaring her shoulders determinedly and becoming imposingly tall. “No. Of course not.”
Eleanor gulped, realizing how thoroughly what she'd said out loud deviated from how it had sounded in her head. “I just—”
“No, you’re absolutely right. I should go now, but have a lovely cruise—doing whatever it is you decide you’d rather do. And my name is Jeanie,” she added through gritted teeth.
Eleanor's face fell as Jeanie turned to walk away. Usually she enjoyed being told she was right, but she took no pleasure in it now. It wasn’t the first time her innate clumsiness in social interactions had come across as gruff, or even hostile. In fact, given her initial attraction to the woman, it was amazing the easy rapport between them had lasted as long as it had. Well, it’s over now, and it's all my fault. The sting of tears pricked the corners of her eyes. As Jeanie entered the elevator, a pool of sunshine from a nearby window showcased her remarkable legs in much the same way as on the observation deck before, but Eleanor felt much too glum to enjoy the view.
Eleanor dragged the back of her hand across her eyes, refusing to cry. Jeanie Brooks is a compulsively late chatter box who loves to dance. Eleanor reminded herself of this unpleasant truth as she tried to shake off the nagging sense of guilt and sadness that weighed her down. We would make the worst match in history! Even a meaningless holiday fling was too crazy to contemplate. She didn’t need to build a forecasting model to know that the risks far outweighed the rewards when it came to that woman and her quirky charm…and infectious grin…and friendly disposition…and smoking hot body.
She stared at the elevator doors where Jeanie had disappeared moments before, and for the first time in quite a long while, Eleanor questioned whether her analysis could be leading her astray.
Chapter 4
Jeanie stepped from the gangway and directly into the rush of morning commuters bustling along the busy sidewalk. Her body hummed with excitement at the prospect of spending her first full day in Europe. She glanced behind her at the ship, then squinted into the distance at the towering bronze fi
gure of Liberty atop the stony, tree covered face of Gellert Hill on the opposite side of the river. Holding its giant palm leaf, the statue looked exactly like the pictures she’d seen in countless tour books; a fact that, strangely, made it harder rather than easier for her to believe that she was really there. The details seemed too perfect to be anything but the product of her own imagination.
She closed her eyes, letting the alien yet strangely melodic tones of the Hungarian language wash over her from the chatter of the passing crowd. She breathed deeply, seeking out the uniquely identifying scent of the city. She’d assumed there would be one, perhaps a subtle perfume of exotic spices that would immediately signal that she was no longer in upstate New York. But it turned out that the smells of Budapest were indistinguishable from American air: the standard blend of car exhaust, a hint of vegetation mouldering in the summer heat, and just a whiff of coffee from a stand on the corner. She let out her breath, disappointed but reassured that this was probably not a dream after all. In her dreams, the city smelled of cinnamon and paprika, and the Danube water sparkled in sapphire hues, as opposed to its actual muddy brown.
And in my dreams, I had no end of beautiful women to keep me from feeling so alone. Jeanie sighed, thinking of the curmudgeonly companion who was her only choice for this cruise. Not that she could even be considered as such, since they most certainly wouldn't be spending any more time together. And she'd had such high hopes for them, too!
Even when she'd thought she'd have a ship filled with options, something about Eleanor had caught her eye. She was attractive, of course. With her fine, chiseled features and her cropped mahogany locks tousled sexily by the breeze, Eleanor had seemed like a dream. There was even the chance for something more long term, which even Jeanie had barely dared to hope for, but it seemed to be true. She'd pegged Eleanor as a fellow New Yorker as soon as she’d spoken. Manhattan, probably, judging by her clothes. But beyond any of that, it was her self-assured presence and take charge attitude that really got Jeanie's juices flowing.
Waltzing on the Danube Page 3
