Time of My Life (Oceanic Dreams #2) Page 5

  “There’s a mop bucket in the corner,” I offered helpfully. She gave me a weak smile.

  “Actually, I’m glad you’re here,” Frank said. “I was planning to check on you later. I’ve got something for you.”

  “A gift?”

  “Not exactly. Well, sort of. You mentioned trying to get pills to help with the nausea, but they were too expensive?”

  “Oh, I can’t accept that from you,” Penny said quickly. “They cost way too much.”

  “Yes, they do,” Frank agreed. “But a little known secret? The active ingredients are anti-nausea drugs and a vitamin. Each costs less than five dollars for over a hundred, and each is free to passengers. I stopped by the infirmary before lunch and got them for you.”

  Penny’s face lit up so much, I thought she might have fallen in love with Frank on the spot. Who could blame her? “Thank you. Really.”

  “It was my pleasure. I hate that it’s so hard for people to get medical care. This was an easy problem for me to solve.”

  “Still.” I lowered myself to the ground, practically dizzy with gratitude. “You didn’t have to do that. Most people wouldn’t have bothered.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  “No,” I said, thinking about the way he moved, the heat smoldering his eyes, the fact that he was spending half his cruise vacation doing us a favor. “You’re really not.”

  Chapter Six

  Day Three: Jamaica

  The third day of our voyage, my practice sessions with Frank hit an unexpected snag. My boss stopped me and Penny at the door to my studio after breakfast. “You can’t go in there. Ferret problem.”

  “I’m sorry, Max, what?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

  “You heard me right. There’s a loose ferret in the walls.”

  “Oh no.” Penny groaned. “Another one of Lincoln’s bright ideas?”

  “I don’t think so,” Max said. “The powers that be were pretty clear that the Pets Onboard cruise was a one-time experiment, and it failed.”

  Last week, one of the assistant cruise directors tried to spice things up, with disastrous results. Those of us who found ourselves chasing pets and stopping dogs from “marking” the poles were not eager to repeat the experience. I was relieved to hear that upper management agreed.

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I don’t even know. Some passenger must have smuggled it onto the ship back in Miami. The darn thing’s been turning up everywhere. Yesterday, it ran across some woman’s legs while she was sleeping at the pool.”

  “And it’s really a ferret? Not, like, a small dog?” I asked. “Are you sure it’s not a service animal?”

  “You ever hear of a service ferret?” Max didn’t wait for me to reply. “Anyway, for now, no lessons. We’ve got to open up the wall behind that mirror to find it.”

  The news kicked me in the chest. I couldn’t afford to lose the entire morning. Not when we only had a few days for Frank to learn the routine. Canceling my classes should have made me ecstatic, since it gave me extra time to practice. But until they caught the ferret and fixed the wall, we didn’t have anywhere to go. The ship didn’t have many random poles for twirling on.

  With a heavy heart, I sent Penny to relax in our cabin while I waited for Frank. There was no point in her hanging around to help with a canceled session. When my new partner appeared outside the entrance to the spa, I pulled him toward the ship’s railing, away from anyone who might overhear us. I pasted a huge smile on my face so anyone who saw us chatting would think we had a perfectly normal entertainer/passenger conversation.

  “Why do you look so happy?” Frank asked. “This is terrible news.”

  Without faltering, I explained. He plastered on a similarly forced smile, so fake I burst out laughing. The sound carried out across the ocean. It felt good to let some of my stress out, so I laughed harder. And harder, until I doubled over, clutching the railing.

  By the time I composed myself, Frank stared at me as if contemplating the likelihood that I had experienced a psychotic break and might push him into the sea. “Sorry. It’s been a long couple of days. I’m tired, stressed, and a bit punchy. Sometimes all you can do is laugh.”

  He nodded. “I get it. When things get really rough, I can’t function. Have to sit on the floor and listen to Tchaikovsky until I feel better.”

  For a moment, an image flitted before my eyes. Me and Frank, sitting on the ground together, listening to classical music. Kissing.

  I forced myself to shake it away. We were dance partners, and maybe becoming friends, but that’s all this could ever be. “Thanks for understanding. Sorry our plans are ruined.”

  “Maybe it’s not the end of the world,” he said. “I’ve got bruises everywhere.”

  “You didn’t try the butter and salt?”

  “Of course not. I figured you were joking.”

  I grinned at him. “Nope. An old wives’ tale, but something in the butter reduces swelling. It absolutely works. Try it tonight before you get in bed. At least you won’t get new bruises.”

  “There’s no possible way that’s going to work,” he said. “But since you mentioned it—We can practice in my cabin. I’ve got a suite.”

  “A suite? Fancy!”

  He shrugged. “My sister talked me into rooms with adjacent balconies. She wanted to be able to sit out in the sun without anyone else around.”

  Must be nice to have so much money you’d pay extra to sit around by yourself after spending thousands to vacation with a literal boatload of other people. Apparently it wasn’t peaceful enough on the gorgeous decks or near the pools.

  When I first got this job, I looked online to see what the different rooms cost. The price of one of the highest-level suites for one week would have paid my dad’s care for two months, and things had only gotten more expensive since then.

  He tilted his head at me if noting my increased tension. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Just wondering if there will be enough space,” I lied. The way he read my body cues freaked me out. “But if nothing else, we can stretch and do handstands against the wall. You need to practice. Lead the way.”

  When we reached his room, Frank stopped talking and scowled. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what was wrong when he started patting his pockets, the universal symbol for “Where are my keys?”

  He answered my unspoken question. “When I got up for breakfast, I put on my workout clothes. Meant to slip my key card in my shorts, but then Lisa messaged to tell me about this guy she met last night after I slipped away to practice.” He sighed. “I guess we’ll have to go to reception and get another one.”

  I couldn’t wait in line with him, but riding the elevator together shouldn’t raise any suspicions. Unfortunately, when we got downstairs, people snaked around the room. Only two concierges worked at the counters. They tapped frantically at their screens while my heart plummeted. We didn’t have a lot of time, and we couldn’t afford to spend half of it standing here.

  Frank nudged my elbow with his. It probably wasn’t supposed to be an intimate gesture, but still sent a thrill up my arm. “I don’t think I’m the only one who got locked out this morning.”

  Maybe we could go somewhere else. My cabin was out. This time of day, the corridors would be swarming with entertainers. We couldn’t risk being noticed by the wrong person. Also, Penny was in bed, resting up before the afternoon Bingo session. Drawing numbers and reading them out while sitting in a chair was one of the few things she could do without getting dizzy. Hopefully the pills Frank got her would help, but we didn’t know yet. Not to mention, our cabin was tiny. Nothing like having an entire suite to move around in.

  The only time I’d ever gotten a peek inside those cabins was during my first week on the ship, when Robbie offered me a tour before the passengers finished boarding. Too late, I realized his intent to impress me with the luxury of the upscale cabins in order to seduce me. He’d heard a lot a
bout pole dancers, apparently, but not how strong we were.

  Too bad he’d learned to finesse his act significantly before I thought to warn Penny about him. But as I remembered that day, my brain zeroed in on an important feature of the executive class suites.

  “Is your balcony door locked?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Not unless it locks automatically when you close the door. I was out there last night.”

  A very, very bad idea was forming in my head. The rational side of my brain told me to give up, stop talking, and walk away. The part of me that needed time alone with Frank to go over everything–where there was no possibility of Max or anyone else finding us–continued talking. “Then it’s not. The latch is near the ceiling. You’d know if you locked it.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why do you mention this?”

  “Because I’ve got a way to get into your room.”

  “No. Uh-uh. I know I agreed to help, but I’m not scaling the side of the ship for you. This won’t take long.” He strode away from me, toward the back of the line. I kept in step with him easily.

  At that moment, the woman at one of the kiosks in the front picked up her microphone. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen. I do apologize, but it appears that our systems are currently unavailable. We expect them to come back up within about an hour.” She continued, listing things they could do without a system, but I tuned her out. Replacing key cards wasn’t one of those things.

  Frank sighed. “You win. What now?”

  I couldn’t exactly take a passenger’s hand and lead him through the ship. “Meet me on the observation deck. You take the elevator.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll take the stairs.”

  “In those shoes?” He gestured at my ever-present high heels. This pair had black platform and stilettos, with red bows on the ankle and toe straps. They were sexy as hell, if I did say so myself. Which I did, at least to my dancer friends.

  I grinned at him. “Yup.”

  Scaling the side of the ship wasn’t what I had in mind, but Frank might prefer that option when he figured out my plan. Now to beat him to the back of the observation deck. Luckily, the elevators moved slowly with so many people, and I knew the shortcuts. I had at least three minutes to consider the stupidity of my plan before Frank arrived.

  He stopped and leaned on the railing beside me. “Now what?”

  I pointed up. “Your balcony is right up there.”

  “Yes, I know. How do we get to it?”

  The observation deck was supported by a line of poles, each about fifteen feet high and fifty millimeters wide. The tops of the poles attached only a few inches away from the edge of the floor above. “We climb, of course. Quickly, without anyone seeing us.”

  “You must have banged your head on the pole one too many times,” Frank said. “No way I can do this.”

  “You’ve already done this at least a dozen times,” I pointed out.

  “I’ve been doing it in a studio, over mats. Where a fall means a bruised ego, not death.”

  “You haven’t fallen once. Come on. I’m not asking you to try a fonji.” The move I mentioned was extremely difficult, where the dancer let go of the pole and flipped over in mid-air before grabbing it again. I’d scrapped it from the routine when Frank stepped in, because there simply wasn’t time to teach him.

  “There’s no way.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Don’t take my word for it.”

  I couldn’t afford to spend the next twenty minutes arguing. Every second ticking by made it more likely someone would come looking for me, or that another guest would brave the winds to take in the view. If anyone caught me helping a guest break into his room, I’d be fired faster than a project manager on The Apprentice who accepted blame for poor leadership.

  Instead of continuing the discussion, I walked to the pole on my left. Frank’s room lay on the back corner of the ship, twelfth deck. The eleventh level housed the observation deck, a daycare that wouldn’t open for another hour, and an executive lounge people could use throughout the day. This was our only chance. With single-minded determination, I grabbed onto the pole high above my head, using both hands to circle it. Then I braced one leg on the pole just the way I showed my students, pushed with my right leg, and pulled with my hands. My left leg came off the floor and gripped the pole, holding me fast.

  “See? Easy-peasy.”

  He let out a sigh. “Fine. You win.”

  I dropped to the ground. “You first. I’m right behind you.”

  “What happens when I get to the top?”

  I pointed. “The top of the post is attached to the roof, which is also the floor of your balcony. Grip with your legs. Feel with one hand at a time around the edge until you find the balcony rails. It’ll be like a ladder. Reach as high as you can, pull with both hands, and bring your legs up.”

  “You make it sound so easy. As if I won’t die if I mess it up.”

  “Oh, you will.” I grinned at him. “So don’t.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “I have faith in you.”

  He grabbed the pole and inched upward, much as I had done. I gazed around the deck, grateful for the rain clouds that kept most people inside this morning. Still, once breakfast ended, anyone might wander down here to look at the water. We needed to hurry, but the look on Frank’s face told me not to push it.

  Instead, I waited for him to get about seven feet off the ground, then grabbed the pole and hoisted myself up again. “You’re doing great. I’m right here. I won’t let you fall.”

  In response, he grunted and continued his upward movement. Luckily, I’d climbed enough to continue the motions while keeping one eye on my student and the other on the hallway.

  Footsteps sounded down the deck.

  “Someone’s coming!” I hissed.

  “I’m doing the best I can.”

  Voices carried on the wind to my ears. I froze, torn between sliding to the ground and shoving Frank the rest of the way. Then the footsteps stopped. “Go! Go!”

  He reached the top and felt around the sides of the ship for the bottom railing of his balcony. This was the riskiest part. The sun shone behind us, waiting to blind anyone who looked up. If someone saw us, they might assume their eyes were playing tricks. More importantly, the way the balconies were tiered, no one should be able to see anything-except for those few seconds when we’d be hanging out between decks, on the outside of the ship. Luckily, most passengers should be on the other side, taking pictures and getting ready to explore Jamaica.

  The footsteps started again. Two pairs. Then a third, much faster. A voice. “Stop!”

  My heart skipped a beat. I wiped sweaty palms on my shorts while sparing a glance down the hall. From my angle, I could just make out two pairs of feet, both pointed toward the other end of the ship. They must have stopped to talk to whoever ran toward them.

  Above me, Frank’s shoes scraped across the railing. He vanished, and a thud sounded over my head. Praise Jesus, he’d made it.

  Once he entered his room, he could open the door from the inside to let me in. But I’d come this far, and he needed to see that I wasn’t afraid to do the same things I asked of him. I also didn’t want anyone to see me wandering the halls near the passenger suites where dance staff had no reason to be. More importantly at the moment, if I slid down the pole, I’d get caught.

  No time to waste. As the footsteps started toward us again, I scrambled upward. My right hand closed around the railing outside Frank’s balcony, and my left hand found the next rung. Stretching as far as possible, I gripped the railing for dear life before letting go of the pole with my legs.

  The voices continued, and this time I recognized them. Repugnant Robbie, talking to some poor girl. Not Penny, a mixed blessing. I felt bad that she fell for such a creep, but if he was talking to some other girl, he wasn’t messing with my friend’s emotions.

  My legs still hung in the air between the
decks. I froze, praying they didn’t look up, because they couldn’t miss me. With agonizing slowness, I inched my knees toward my chest, getting my feet out of their line of sight. I couldn’t risk the big movement that would take me over the railing. Robbie would call Max in a heartbeat. Ever since I told Penny the truth about him, Robbie had it in for me.

  The woman’s voice drifted to my ears. “I could’ve sworn I saw Frank walking this way.”

  With a start, I recognized her voice, too. Lisa. With all my heart, I hoped Robbie wasn’t the “cute guy” she told Frank about meeting, and that she’d just stopped a random member of the staff to ask for directions.

  No such luck. Robbie said something, too low for my ears to pick up, and Lisa giggled. A very flirtatious sound, not “thanks for the help, stranger.”

  Frank’s face appeared over the railing, jarring me from my thoughts. He motioned with one hand, and I saw that my feet had crept as high as the floor of the balcony. Thank goodness, because my abs were screaming. I stepped onto the solid floor, then pulled myself upright, still moving slowly. Robbie and Lisa sounded otherwise occupied (gag!) but I still didn’t want to catch their attention.

  Someone needed to warn Lisa, as awful as she was, but I couldn’t be the one to do it. Not here, for one thing. I also hadn’t forgotten the way Lisa treated me when we met. She didn’t seem likely to accept life advice from “the Help,” and I certainly wasn’t going to tell her what Robbie did to Penny. Once we got upstairs, I’d let Frank know what I’d seen and hope Lisa would listen to her little brother. With dozens of Sassy Singles aboard this ship, surely, she could do better.

  Thinking about Lisa’s love life wasn’t going to get me to my destination, though, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted. Finally, I pulled myself high enough to swing one leg over the railing. I stepped lightly, although part of me wanted to thump loudly. Maybe a loud noise would scare Lisa into running away, certain that the ship was haunted.

  Frank’s arms locked around me, and he swept me off my feet. A thrill shot through my entire body as the momentum caused me to press up against him. We spun in a circle. His lips nearly touched my ear, making me shiver as he spoke. “You’re wild.”