Love Overboard

Chapter 20

LACEY GRABBED HER DIRTY-CLOTHES basket and carried it next door. When you had an hour lunch break and no clean underwear, living by the laundry room came in handy. She placed the load on a long counter in the middle of the room, opened two of the washers, and threw the colors in one and the whites in the other at hyperspeed. After dumping the soap in and slamming the lids, she chose the quickest setting. Maybe she could get a meal before they finished.

“Hermosa!” Ricardo loped into the room, dragging an overflowing netted bag. “You are also doing laundry?”

“It’s now or never. I have to be at the jazz concert in”—she checked her watch—“fifty-seven minutes.”

Ricardo hauled his load onto the counter beside her basket. “It is so hard to make space for all the work.” He drew a soiled apron from the bag. “Chef wants extra pastries for the evening buffet. I have no time.” His mournful eyes turned to Lacey.

Water whooshed in the machine beside them. A click sounded as the lid locked in place.

“If you need to leave”—Lacey motioned to her own things—“I’ll be here awhile. I can switch your wet laundry to the dryer.”

“You would do that?” Ricardo clasped his hands. “You are an angel. I promise to make it up to you.” He advanced, but she scooted to the side and sneaked her basket between them.

“Don’t mention it.”

Ricardo slid his laundry along the counter and pulled a bottle of detergent from under the pile. “Separate the lights from the darks and put one cup of this in with each load. You are the best.” He leaned over her basket, kissed the air near her face, and rushed off.

“Wait, I didn’t mean—”

He was gone.

“Right.” Lacey stared at the bottle. “This is payback for dinner last night.”

She tugged the bag in front of her but hesitated at the silk boxer shorts on top. She liked Ricardo, but they weren’t that close. Lacey headed next door to her cabin. Perhaps she had a pair of cleaning gloves under the bathroom sink.

Jon checked the staff schedule on his computer and compared it with the roster on his desk. He scrolled through the names. There was one musician who was infamous among the crew for borrowing money. Never seemed to have enough. A ripe target for drug runners and worth inspection. The man was scheduled for an outdoor jazz combo performance in ten minutes. Jon noticed Lacey’s name on the list. She was overseeing the setup for the mini concert.

He opened a desk drawer and eyed the tube of ointment inside. Was her knee still sore? It wouldn’t hurt to check. He logged out of his computer and shoved the medicine into his pocket. After walking to the office door, Jon took hold of the handle and stopped. His index finger tapped against the knob.

What if she gave him that look again? That no-entry, go-away, roll-up-the-welcome-mat look. Was it worth trying to help? The door swung in before he decided. Jon stumbled and almost toppled onto Emily Windsor. He grabbed the doorjamb to prevent a collision.

She smiled at him, not the least bit startled. “Good afternoon, Jon.”

“Hello, Emily.” He righted himself. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Could you spare a second?” She grasped the strap of her large black purse.

“For you?” He waved her in. “I can even spare two.”

Emily entered the small office. Jon made sure she was comfortable on the chair facing his desk. He sat, folded his hands together, and rested his chin on his fingers.

Emily settled her pocketbook on her lap. “I wanted to show you my gift.” She unzipped her purse, pulled out a small paper bag, and set it on his desk.

He picked it up and shook it. Something rattled inside. “What’s this?”

“Dark chocolate–covered almonds.”

“For me?”

“No.” Emily swiped it from his hand. “For me. Lacey bought them.” She swung the bag. “I locked the girl in a closet two days ago. She’s still mad as fire at me but purchased these in Puerto Limón because they’re rich in fiber and antioxidants. Lacey didn’t even say anything when she gave them to me, just shoved them in my hand and stalked off.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

They grinned at each other, and Emily fussed with the collar of her shirt.

“I have a little … arrhythmia, now and then. Lacey’s always giving me heart-healthy foods.”

“Is it serious?” Jon reached across the desk, but she swatted him away.

“Nothing to worry about. The doctor told me to be careful with what I eat, and to exercise.”

“And do you?”

She shrugged. “Getting around this floating metropolis keeps me active.”

Jon dragged his keyboard in front of him and logged into the computer. “We offer a senior aerobics class twice a week. I’m going to sign you up.”

“I hate aerobics, and that’s not why I’m here.” Emily shoved the chocolates in her purse and stood. “The reason I came was to bolster your get-up-and-go. Lacey may fret and fume at the first sign of commitment”—Emily bent her head and lowered her voice as if sharing a secret—“but she’s soft mush underneath.”

Jon smiled at the sweet face with the frizzy gray halo hovering over his. “Like someone else I know.”

Emily placed a tiny hand on his cheek. “Don’t lose heart.” She straightened and ran her fingers through her flyaway curls. “I saw Lacey on the lido deck a few minutes ago. In case you were wondering.”

“How kind of you to inform me.” Jon rose from his seat. “I think I’ll take a stroll that direction.” He didn’t mention his motive had nothing to do with romance. Better to let Emily believe her efforts weren’t in vain.

She held up a finger. “One last thing. Don’t mention our talk to Lacey. She wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Emily left without a goodbye, and Jon sank onto his desk chair. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the medicine. Twisting the tube in his fingers, he considered her advice. He should be concentrating on the investigation, not romance, and pursuing the beautiful but prickly hostess guaranteed more scrapes and dings on his already battered ego. But the little matchmaker was right about one thing.

Lacey was worth it.