For My Next Trick...

Chapter 1

Nathaniel waited just off stage for his introduction as the house band began to play a jazz standard to interject some energy into the audience of the Imperial Theater. All the while, the Atlantic Star moved quickly through the waters off Miami, heading away from the northern January cold toward their first port of call: San Juan, Puerto Rico. He took a few deep breaths, thinking briefly about how he could work that tidbit into the act in order to make it a little more immediate for the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the cruise director began, giggling slightly, and Nathaniel rolled his eyes, having heard that stale old beginning half a million times, he swore. Just once, he wished for an original start, the giggle notwithstanding. To be honest, maybe he’d begin with “Marks and Suckers,” but the old standard would do.

“I’m Icy, your cruise director.” And a more cold person Nathaniel had never gotten a first impression of. Not that they had spent that much time together, thank God. “And I want to welcome you to our opening night show.” He thought she was going to giggle again, but she managed to hold it inside. “We have someone very special for you tonight….” She went on and finally came to the end of her little speech. “Please welcome Nathaniel Weatherby!” She managed some energy, and he strode on stage to vigorous applause.

“Thank you,” he said, looking out over the audience, his wild rainbow pride tuxedo stuffed with the tricks of his trade. Everything he needed was at the tips of his deft fingers, right where it should be. He struck a confused pose for a second. “I’m going to need a little help….” He looked out through the dimmed house lights as an intense gaze caught his. Damn, those eyes and strong jaw were stunning. “And I pick you,” he added without a second thought. The man shook his head. Nathaniel had dealt with this before and knew the drill. He jumped down off the stage and strode to where he sat. “I think he just needs a little encouragement.”

As predicted, the audience applauded, and the man stood and followed Nathaniel toward the stage. One of the attendants from the cruise line led him around to the side of the stage while Nathaniel climbed back up, pretending to have trouble, but he made it back on stage and turned to the audience as a flurry of cards, flowers, handkerchiefs, and other cheap magic paraphernalia fell to the floor. The audience tittered, just as they were supposed to.

“Well, crap, I guess the card tricks are out,” Nathaniel deadpanned, and the audience laughed with a combined sense of amusement and relief. Nathaniel took another step, and a white rabbit bounded out of his pant leg. “You too, Brutus?” he said as he scooped up his beautiful pet and gently placed him into his carrier. Again, the audience was amused, and he had them just where he wanted.

“Now,” he went on, shaking his head as though he were trying to figure what came next, but this was all just part of the act. “What’s your name?” he asked his guest, who stood on the side of the stage.

“Randy,” he answered in a deep, resonant voice.

“Of course you are. Who wouldn’t be,” he teased, because Jesus this guy was built, with wide shoulders, narrow hips, and arms that strained the sleeves of his shirt. Half the audience got it and laughed. Nathaniel strode across the stage and brought Randy closer to the center so everyone could see what was happening. “What do you do when you aren’t riding the high seas?”

Randy cleared his throat. “I’m a police officer in Frederick, Maryland.” His intense gaze met Nathaniel’s, screaming “back off and stay away.” But of course, Nathaniel had no intention of doing either. This was the perfect way to get to know his adversary.

“Wonderful,” Nathaniel cooed. “Did you bring your dress blues? I just love a man in uniform, don’t you?” He stepped back and did a little twirl, and the audience snickered. “I bet you look better in yours than I do in mine. My mother was always appalled by my fashion sense.” An oversized ID-type card slipped out from under his coat, sliding along the stage. “Shit, there goes my gay card.” In a second, it poofed with fake smoke and disappeared. “Forever, apparently.” He looked out across the audience. “Am I straight now?”

He ignored the laughter and turned back to Randy. “So you’re a police officer,” he said with a grin. “Does that mean that you’re more aware of what goes on around you than most people?”

“Yes. We’re trained to observe.” Randy was getting even more on edge.

Nathaniel drew closer to Randy, noticing the way his eyes widened slightly and how his nostrils flared every now and then. Curious. “And I suppose you know all the tricks, so it will be hard to pull anything over on you.”

Randy nodded, his gaze growing even more intense.

“So, I wonder… if I do something bad, are you going to arrest me?”

“If you break the law,” he answered intently.

This was almost too good for words.

“Oh.” Nathaniel made a huge production of thinking about his next move. “Then I guess I should give you back your wallet.” He lifted Randy’s hand and placed the wallet he’d slipped from Randy’s back pocket into it. Randy was surprised and took the wallet slowly. “And I suppose I should give you back your watch….” He pulled that out of his pocket and handed it to him. “And here’s your phone, and….” He reached into his pocket yet again and pulled out a small vibrator, which he handed over. “Now where did that come from?” He turned to Randy, giving him a naughty look, and right on cue, the huge man blushed bright red and said nothing. “Let’s give Randy a huge hand for being such a good sport.”

The audience applauded, and Randy headed for the side of the stage. But Nathaniel couldn’t resist one more trick. He waited until Randy was nearly to the stairs before reaching into his jacket pocket a final time. “Wait. I think you need this too.” He pulled out Randy’s ship card and hurried over.

Randy’s eyes grew huge as he took the card and checked it over. “Damn… looks like I better keep an eye on you.”

“Randy, you can keep anything you want on me. Did you bring your handcuffs?”

To Nathaniel’s surprise, Randy pulled a pair out of his front pants pocket. “I never leave home without them.”

Nathaniel reached into his left front pocket. “Neither do I. Oooh, we could be handcuff buddies.” He turned to the still-laughing audience, showing them the red mark on his cuffs. “Do you want to see one more?”

The audience applauded wildly, so Nathaniel led the stunning and now slightly off-balance Randy back to the center of the stage. “Now, I want you to put my handcuffs on me.” He handed them to Randy. “Feel free to check them out.” He turned away, of course knowing that Randy would substitute his own. He had never done this trick this way before, but had no doubt in his skills.

Randy locked the cuffs around his wrists with a slight smile. Nathaniel let him think he had put one over on him.

“Excellent. Now, can we have a little music?” he asked, and the house band began to play. “You man enough for it?” he asked, and took Randy by the hands in a modified waltz pose where he twirled Randy around the stage. There was no handcuff lock that he couldn’t pick, especially with the thin tool concealed on the underside of his wrist. He had it out at the first turn, and by the second turn, his first hand was free. By the third, he had both, and at the fourth, he had snapped a clumsily dancing Randy into his own cuffs. Then he stepped away and took a bow as Randy stood on stage with his hands cuffed together. “I do hope you brought the keys,” he said with a smile, and the audience roared. Nathaniel was sure they had been watching intently, but between his and Randy’s bodies, there hadn’t been much to see, and Nathaniel had kept Randy’s mind off-kilter with the dance. So in the end, everything had gone off without a hitch, especially as he pulled his pair of red-marked cuffs out of Randy’s pocket.

“Let’s give him a huge hand for being such a great sport,” Nathaniel said to the still-cuffed Randy, who looked at him with a mixture of anger and confusion. “What? Those are your cuffs. I don’t have the key.” They were probably in his pocket, and Randy couldn’t quite get them. Nathaniel shrugged in a what-do-you-want-me-to-do way. “Okay…,” Nathaniel said, grabbing a handkerchief out of the case off to the side of the stage. He put it over Randy’s hands, pretended to fuss with it, and then pulled it off, the handcuffs falling to the floor.

The audience applauded wildly as Nathaniel bent to pick up Randy’s handcuffs and handed them to him. “You’ll probably need these.” He dropped them in Randy’s hand. “Hey, Icy, can we get Randy here a bottle of Champagne for being such a good sport?”

She glided out on stage and handed him a bottle, and then Randy left the stage quickly, probably before Nathaniel could do anything else to him. While the audience applauded, Nathaniel allowed himself a few seconds to think about just what he’d like to do with Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick if given the chance.

Nathaniel took his last bow, additional cards flying out of his sleeves toward the audience. They gave him a final laugh as he hurried off the stage and into the dark as Icy took the stage to highlight the other things going on around the luxurious ship, including a cabaret act in the forward lounge. Then the house lights came up, and he watched the theater empty out for the evening.

“What was that?” Icy asked as she stalked her way backstage, the slit in her dress waving in her own breeze.

“Improvisation,” he answered with a shrug.

She cleared her throat. “Our passengers come on this ship to be pampered and treated like they’re the center of everything, not to be humiliated.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s a comedy magic show. They all got what they expected and a little more.” There was no way he was going to be intimidated by the Nordic Nitwit. “Besides, the next show will be completely different, and they’ll love that too.” He knew what audiences wanted: to be entertained, get a laugh, and be kept spellbound, and when he’d handed the cop his wallet, you could have heard a pin drop in the back row. “Relax.”

“What I’m going to do is make a call.”

Again, Nathaniel shrugged. “I have an ironclad contract, and if you cause trouble, then you won’t have any entertainment on four nights of this little jaunt, including the late-night show you promised them tomorrow.” There was nothing that she could really do.

She leaned her head forward, long blonde hair falling around her face as she looked down her nose.

“Give the ice queen routine a rest. It isn’t doing you any favors,” he told her as the stagehand who had gathered all his props returned everything to him in a box. The man cleared his throat and handed it to him. “Just relax. We have plenty of fun ahead of us, and you’re the one who oversees it all.”

She put her elegantly manicured hands on her hips. “And everyone thinks this job is one big party.”

“I know it’s not. But you need to make it look that way for the guests—I know that. But charm them. It’s what I did. Talk to them. We’re going to be together for the next ten days.”

She shivered slightly, like rubbing shoulders with the rabble was too much for her. She shook her head and simply walked away. For a second, Nathaniel wondered if he might have broken her or something.

Nathaniel took his props and went backstage to his tiny dressing area, where he got out of makeup and his performance clothes, pulling on a light pair of slacks and a soft blue-and-white striped polo shirt. Once everything was hung up, he left his props under his dressing table so they would be out of the way and exited the crew area, joining the regular passengers strolling the shopping arcade on board.

He wandered into the expensive shops with their duty-free jewelry and the watch shop with items he could only dream of on his wrist, but could never afford.

“Casing the joint?” a deep voice asked, and Nathaniel turned. “Looking for what you’re going to lift next?” Randy Sex-on-a-Stick stood just behind him in the same dark shirt and black pants from earlier, and damn, those things hugged his hips almost like they he’d been sewn into them. Nathaniel noticed that Randy patted the back of his jeans without even meaning to, probably just to check that his wallet was still there.

“Hardly. That’s just part of the act. And you made it extra easy,” he added with a smile. “There’s no need for a wallet on board. It’s all done through your At Sea Card. No one takes cash on board except the waiters at the bars.” He flashed a smile. “There’s a safe in your cabin, you know.” He smiled, loving the byplay. The tension between them was palpable, and he wanted it to last. “That’s the best way to keep your valuables out of the hands of magicians.” He wriggled his fingers. “You never know what we have up our sleeve.”

“Really?” Randy asked, a slight smile at the corners of his mouth, his eyes darkening slightly.

“Absolutely. We know plenty of tricks, and we most certainly know how to make our audience happy, even if it’s just an audience of one.” He held Randy’s gaze. “I hope I see you at the next show.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it.” Randy told him, and Nathaniel grinned and turned away with a smile.

“Good,” he whispered, then took a step back, loving the heat in those dark brown eyes. They had gone almost black. Randy broke the gaze first, looking toward a locked case of Hublot watches. “You might want this if you’re going to spend that kind of money,” Nathaniel said a little more loudly and placed Randy’s wallet on the counter.

“Why you…,” Randy started, his voice deep.

“It’s just part of the act, and a way to make sure you remember me. Besides, I wouldn’t want to hurt you… unless you’re into that sort of thing.” He took a little bow for the people around him, who clapped. “And use the safe in your cabin. It’s for your own protection.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to need protection,” Randy growled softly, but showed his teeth.

“Don’t worry, I bring my own.” He flashed a smile and left Randy open-mouthed and speechless as he moved on to the next little store, filled with expensive designer clothes he could never afford. He sighed at a twelve-hundred-dollar silk shirt that felt like it was almost made of air, it was so light.

Nathaniel had grown up in the center city of a rough and tumble Baltimore in an unconventional family. When he was a kid, his mother sometimes cleaned homes for extra money, and Nathaniel used to go along to help, especially when she wasn’t feeling well. It seemed he’d spent his whole life around beautiful, expensive things that he was never going to be able to afford.

“Charlie, I just love this,” an older woman said at the next display as she looked though the light dresses. She pulled one out and held it up to herself in front of the mirror. The man smiled and nodded, and she handed the dress to the sales associate, who rang up the eighteen-hundred-dollar purchase.

Nathaniel sighed and left the store. This sort of thing was not helping him. Still, he reminded himself that he had a purpose in coming here, and he needed to spend his time watching the other passengers rather than concentrating on things he could never have.

He strode out of the shopping arcade and took one of the elevators upward to the pool deck. Since leaving Miami, it had grown warmer and the air a little heavier. Not that he minded. It was a beautiful night. He went up to the sun deck. The chairs and loungers had been put away for the night, but he leaned against the railing, watching the stars above before looking out into the inky blackness beyond the ship’s lights.

“Why do I keep running into you?” Randy asked, and this time, Nathaniel didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Maybe you’re stalking me?” Nathaniel teased.

“Or keeping an eye on you,” Randy countered seriously.

He shrugged as Randy took the place next to him at the railing. “I’m just a performer, nothing more. I spend most of my life doing my thing on venues like this. Going from place to place, doing my act, and hoping like hell that someone would see me and that I might get my big break.” So far it had been a lot of travel, a few nibbles, and little else. “What about you? What’s a cop doing on a very expensive cruise ship?” He turned toward Randy to meet his gaze. “I know cops don’t make the kind of money it takes to get on this ship.” He leaned a little closer. “So maybe I should be keeping my eyes on you.”

Damn, sometimes he had the very best ideas.