Poppy
Servers in white tunics glide past with trays of fruits, cheeses, meats, olives, aubergines, fire-roasted tomatoes, kebabs, pita breads, and vegetables drizzled with green oil and balsamic.
They wear laced sandals and their eyes are dark with kohl.
Bronzed cuffs gleam on their arms. Real grapes have been hung in clusters from trellises; live music comes from harps, lyres, flutes, and panpipes; and the air is fragrant with thyme, rosemary, and basil.
Roshaan materializes in front of them and ushers them to a table beside a pool with a backlit waterfall. Stars prick the darkening sky, and a gibbous moon casts a path of beaten gold across the black water.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Roshaan says. “I’ll fetch your server.”
“Oh, wow, that’s new—I mean, it’s a beautiful ring,” she says.
“Thank you,” Roshaan says crisply. She heads for the restaurant counter.
“Wait,” Poppy calls after her, but she’s already out of earshot. Poppy hurriedly shoves her chair back and surges to her feet. “Excuse me a second,” she says to Lillith. She scuttles after Roshaan, catching up to her near the bar.
“What is it?” Roshaan looks edgy as she fingers her new ring.
Her overt discomfort gives Poppy a little punch of power. It’s a nice feeling, so she slows down, taking time to revel in it as she comes to her point.
“I was wondering if you could tell me who left the gift in our suite. My”—she was going to say boss, but changes her mind—“my travel companion would like to send a thank-you note.”
Roshaan relaxes. “Oh. I don’t know who it’s from. Maxine asked me to leave it in the Elysium villa. You could ask her—she’s here on Deck 14 somewhere.”
“I will. Thank you.” Poppy hesitates, then goes in for another dig. “It really is a beautiful ring. An emerald?”
“It is.”
“Congratulations. Oh—I’m so sorry.” Poppy presses her hand to her chest in sudden mock fluster. “I shouldn’t have just assumed that it meant an engagement. Forgive me.”
“No worries. It is. I—I mean, an engagement.” She smiles tightly.
But Poppy senses inner conflict. Roshaan might be prettier and younger than Poppy, but she’s insecure. And Poppy noticed how she reacted when that dark-haired man approached her boss. There’s possibly a love triangle at play. Or secrets, at least.
“Righteo. Thanks again, Roshaan—I’ll keep an eye out for Maxine.”
She trundles back to her table, feeling a little burst of purposeful achievement and fresh energy. She seats herself as a server approaches with two cocktails on a tray.
“What was that about?” Lillith asks.
“I wanted to ask for extra towels for my room.”
Lillith glances in Roshaan’s direction. She watches the concierge for a moment, then says, “I meant to ask you earlier—I heard you mention to Roshaan that you’d worked abroad with the British Foreign Office. I didn’t notice that on your résumé.”
Heat floods Poppy’s cheeks. She has no idea why she blurted that out. Perhaps in an effort to impress the younger, more attractive woman—it’s a problem she has. Spontaneous lying. She knows it comes from her own insecurities. She hadn’t realized Lillith had been within earshot.
She clears her throat. “I don’t tend to list it—Secrets Act and all. I was an assistant and nursing companion to a client in the service. I traveled with him briefly.”
“Where were you stationed?” Lillith asks.
“Um—Dakar, Senegal.”
Lillith is about to prod further when the server sets down the cocktails.
“Oh, you ordered drinks already,” Poppy says brightly.
“No.” Lillith frowns. “This isn’t ours. We—”
“They’re courtesy of the gentleman at the bar,” the server says as he places the second drink in front of Poppy.
They both glance over to the bar. It’s empty, save for two women and another server picking up an order.
“Two Bangkok Slings,” the waiter says with a little bow.
Lillith freezes. Fear flickers through her eye. It startles Poppy.
“There’s no gentleman at the bar,” says Poppy.
The server glances over his shoulder. “Oh, he’s gone now. He said you’d appreciate this particular cocktail.”
Lillith’s hand goes to her throat. “Thank you.”
Poppy presses: “This gentleman—he couldn’t have tampered with the drinks, could he?”
“Of course not,” the server says. “The order comes straight from the bartender. But if you’d prefer not—”
“It’s fine,” Lillith cuts in. She reaches for her glass and lifts it with a boldness that fails to hide the tremor in her hand. She looks alarmingly pale.
“What’s in a Bangkok Sling?” Poppy asks the server.
“It’s a riff off the Singapore Sling—Mekhong, gin, triple sec, fresh lime and pineapple, bitters, a dash of muddled chili, and topped with ginger ale. Refreshing, tropical, citrusy.”
“Not very Greek,” Poppy says.
He laughs. “Definitely not. But the gentleman thought the ladies would enjoy it.”
“We do, thank you.” Lillith’s voice is clipped. “Can we have some menus now, please?”
“Of course.”
As he leaves, Poppy samples the cocktail. “It is rather refreshing.”
“Hmm.” Lillith pushes her glass to the side. She really does look rattled. Poppy scans the crowd, searching for the gentleman now. Perhaps he’s A.G.—the secret admirer. Or lover. But why is Lillith so shaken by the cocktail? A movement near the entrance snares her attention.
Arrabella and Patrick.
She splutters into her drink, sets it down.
Lillith, with her back to the doors, hasn’t seen them yet.
Roshaan points them over to their table. The dashing couple begin to weave their way through the crowd toward Poppy and Lillith.
Poppy tenses as her protective guard shoots up.
With a shock she realizes it’s not herself she’s worried about—it’s Lillith.
Her charge is clearly rather deeply upset by the mysterious cocktails, and Poppy suddenly feels fiercely protective of her as the avaricious Arrabella approaches like a hawkish runway model.
Patrick trails behind her. Pale, gangly, thin, very tall.
Long face with permanently sad eyes that turn down at the corners.
He’s not touching Arrabella tonight. Odd, given the way his hands pawed all over her at Christmas.
At least, until the big fight with Angus.
She senses a new coolness between the two. Interesting.
They reach the table. Poppy braces.
“Oh, Lillith!” Arrabella exclaims. “Poppy! How very lovely to see you both here!”
Lillith swivels around in her seat.
Her jaw drops.