Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Stanton: Really, Trixie? You think this engagement is a good idea?
Stanton: How many more men are you planning to parade in front of our kids?
Stanton: Ransom? What kind of name is that, anyway? Was he kidnapped at birth?
Stanton: And teaching Parker poker? Real great influence there. What’s next? Lighting up a fat one?
Suddenly Single—What a Trip!
T rixie,
Help! My ex-wife is on a cruise, and word has it she’s being seduced by the ship’s head of security—a real deal meathead. What should I do to keep my cool while she’s off gallivanting on the high seas (without my permission!) while playing hide the weapon with the aforementioned meathead?
Sincerely, Stanton the Steamed
Dear Stanton the Steamed,
Good grief. Hello, Stanton.
First, I am not amused by this. But what a juicy predicament (for her). Here’s how to navigate this juicy gem from afar:
First off, take a deep breath. The last thing you need is to channel your inner melodramatic name-calling king.
Maybe you should dive into your own adventures while she’s off playing Titanic with the ship’s brawny bouncer (and rather enjoying herself!). Try a new hobby like binge-watching a series that everyone’s talking about or reading an actual book .
Worry less about your ex and more about yourself. Also, please stop leaving nasty messages in the family group chat. I see no need to drag the kids into this.
Focus on creating your own fantastic new memories with someone new. Think of it as your ultimate revenge—living your best life.
I’m certainly living mine.
Trixie
We returned to the ship just before first seating dinner so I dashed to my cabin to shower and change. No sooner did I primp myself to prom-worthy perfection than I got another rash of text messages from Stanton.
Stanton: Do you honestly think this guy is going to stick around?
Stanton: You’re making a fool of yourself.
Stanton: I insist that you call off this sham of an engagement before it sends the kids into therapy. And we all know who’s going to pay for that one.
Trixie: I’m happy, Stanton. And our kids are happy for me. That’s all that matters.
Stanton: Sure, keep telling yourself that. Just don’t come crying to me when it falls apart. And it will.
By the sounds of it, it’s Stanton who will need therapy to survive my upcoming nuptials. For all the cheating that man did, he’s acting as if he’s the only man in the world that I should be with. He wishes.
I put on a sleek little black dress, a few gold baubles, and meet Ransom at the entry to the formal dining room.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, giving me an approving once-over. “Has anyone ever told you that you look delicious?”
“You haven’t been talking to Elodie, have you?” I ask as I fall into his arms and he lands a kiss on my lips—a delicious kiss no less.
“No. Should I?”
“Believe me, you don’t have to,” I say. “As for me, well, that’s up in the air. She’s determined to give me lessons when it comes to closed-door activities. You know, tips and tricks.”
He winces. “I’d recommend against it. But do as you wish. We’re going to have a great time all on our own. Besides”—he lands another kiss to my lips—“the plans I have for you have never been attempted before. They’re something special just for you and me. I’ve been saving all my best moves. I knew you’d come along one day.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” I laugh as I give his ribs a quick tweak. “Let’s get in there before we change our minds.”
The soft din of voices creates a serene backdrop as Ransom and I make our way into the main dining room. Bess and Nettie will be joining us, but they’ve decided to be fashionably late, still recovering from our sun-soaked day at Cabbage Beach.
The main dining room makes me feel as if I’ve just been transported to the most elegant venue on the planet. It’s a three-story wonder comprised of sparkling black granite floors and peach velvet chairs that are tucked against a bevy of round tables covered with white linen. The tables are set in a series of alcoves to allow for privacy as artsy-looking light fixtures hang from above.
We step into the room from the first floor and take in all of the drama and glamour it can afford. The soft clinking of silverware and murmured conversations fill the air, along with classical music playing softly to create the perfect ambiance of refined luxury.
In the center of the room sits an impressive ice sculpture, and much like the menu it changes every single night. I’m always anxious to see what the chefs have dreamed up next in both respects.
Tonight’s frozen wonder is a masterful carving of a leaping dolphin with water cascading from its mouth, creating a mesmerizing fountain effect. The ice glistens under the soft lights, adding an ethereal glow to the sculpture and making it the centerpiece of the room.
Ransom and I are seated at our regular table, which boasts a spectacular view of the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows. And according to the menu, tonight’s offerings are nothing short of spectacular themselves. I’ve already narrowed down my choices to lobster bisque, filet mignon with a red wine reduction, pan-seared scallops, and a decadent chocolate soufflé for dessert. Yum, yum, yum, and yum.
“This is perfect,” I say, leaning close to the handsome man by my side.
Speaking of delicious, Ransom is dangerously sexy tonight in his dark suit, dark facial scruff, and that dark brooding look on his face that has every woman in the dining room turning their heads in his direction.
“I think you’re perfect.” He pulls me close for another kiss on the lips and this time we linger. I’ve never felt such a burning hunger for a man before—not even for the man I was married to for twenty-five years— especially not for the man I was married to for twenty-five years. Mostly I just burned with anger for Stanton. He could be that infuriating.
Ransom pulls back and inspects me with a twinkle in his eyes that warms me all the way down to my toes.
“Thank you for saying yes,” he says as he touches his forehead to mine and steals another kiss.
“As if there’s a woman alive who’s ever said no to you,” I tease as I wiggle that rock glistening on my ring finger between us. “You’re welcome. Quite frankly, I’m flattered you asked.”
“I’m just lucky a woman of your caliber wasn’t snatched up long before the night I proposed.”
A laugh bubbles from me at the thought.
“Let’s talk about the wedding,” he says, clasping his hand to mine. “What are your thoughts?”
“I just need you there. And our kids. And Bess and Nettie. Elodie should be there. And we can’t forget Wes. Oh, and your sister! Of course, my mother may or may not make an appearance. That’s par for the course as far as she’s concerned. But your parents, too.”
“My parents are deceased.”
“Oh right.” I wince hard. Did I know that? Ransom and I have more or less experienced a whirlwind romance. “But we have a good start. We can always invite the guest list I just rattled off onto a cruise and do it then.”
“We can,” he says. “Or we can get married anywhere in the world you wish. I’ll fly them all in. No expense spared.”
A smile gets buried in my cheeks and I can’t fight it. “I don’t want anything ritzy. Just a simple ceremony followed by lots of alone time where you can show off all of those original moves you’ve been holding back from the world.”
His lids hood and a malevolent smile curls on his lips. Ransom looks ready to pounce and show off those moves right this minute. We might make a scene, but who cares? I’m all for skipping straight to dessert.
I’m about to yank him right out of his chair and hightail it to my cabin just as Wes shows up.
“Mind if I join the fun?” he asks, clearly unaware of the fun we had in mind.
“Not if you want to live,” Ransom mutters under his breath.
“Captain,” I say a touch too loud and my voice squeaks in the process. “Please take a seat.”
Wes looks regal in his dark double-breasted jacket with all the brass hardware a man of his stature requires.
“Just thought I’d say good evening to the lovebirds.” He lands in the seat on the other side of me. “First of all, congratulations once again on your engagement. I had planned to host a proper celebration for you both, but given the recent developments, I thought it best to wait until closer to the end of the trip.”
“Aww, thank you. We appreciate that,” I say, feeling a pang of guilt at the mention of the recent deadly development.
He nods to Ransom. “How’s the investigation going?”
I can feel Ransom grow rigid behind me. “I’m afraid I don’t mix business with pleasure, Wes. But I’ll get back to you with an update soon.” He hitches his head my way and I’m clearly aware that I’m the reason he’s evading the topic.
Wes nods. “Fair enough. And Trixie, any new sightings of that ghostly stowaway?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t seen her since we departed. It’s been pretty quiet on that front.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to your dinner.” Wes rises to his feet. “Oh, and before I forget, I wanted to extend the Emerald Queen to you as a wedding venue. Any room, lounge, or deck. You name it, it’s yours. And if you should need an officiant, I am a notary public with all the right credentials to get you hitched whether on land or on sea.”
“Wes!” I practically purr at the offer. “Thank you! I think that’s a wonderful idea. I would be honored for you to marry us. What do you think, Ransom?” I give his hand a tug and he gives a slow blink up at Wes.
“Honor might be a strong word.” He flexes a short-lived smile. “But I feel the same.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Wes rocks back on his heels. “Take your time. No rush. And it’s me who’s honored to be taking part in your ceremony.”
Wes takes off and Ransom growls. “Believe me, he’d much rather play the part of the groom.”
“I’m sorry to break it to him, but that role is already filled.” I bite down on a smile. “I’ve been thinking about what you said—about me staying out of Lucy Taylor’s case—and I wanted to let you know I’m in agreement with you.”
Ransom inches back. “Why do I feel a but coming on?”
“But”—I bat my lashes at him—“I want to help from the sidelines.”
“No way,” he says flatly. “I’ve got this, Trixie. The only thing you need to do from the sidelines is relax.” He turns his attention to the menu in front of him.
“But I’ve got evidence. I mean, did you see the necklace that was found next to the body?”
“The one that read My Girl ?” His head turns my way. “What about it?”
“It belonged to Jennifer Mitchell, our other resident bride-to-be.”
His lips purse as he nods straight ahead. “Okay, I’ll take it from here.”
“And what about the pink glitter that was all over Lucy’s blazer? Do you want to know where that came from?”
His eyes flit my way once again, but he doesn’t turn his head this way. “Where?”
“From the sash that Jennifer was wearing last night.”
He’s back to pursing his lips. “Anything else I should know about?”
“That’s all I’ve got for now.”
A tiny growl rumbles through his chest. “Trixie,” he says my name with an exasperated sigh. “The only way I can truly convince Quinn that you had nothing to do with this is for you to steer clear. She thinks you’re causing all the havoc so you can solve the case and get all the glory.”
“What?” I squawk so loud three different tables turn our way.
“You and I both know it’s not true,” he says, taking up my hand. “But just this once, let me handle things from here. You said yourself that the ghost hasn’t made another appearance. Take that as a sign that this case isn’t for you to solve.”
“Stick your hands in the air,” someone gravels from behind. “I’ve got a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it. Now get naked, get under that table, and have a good time.”
I avert my eyes at the thought, but then again, there are worse directions this night can go in.