14. Captain’s Opera
P oppy was utterly captivated by the grandeur of the theatre foyer.
Her eyes were drawn to the magnificent chandelier, a sparkling masterpiece above the carousel bar.
It was a marvel to her that such a space could exist on a ship.
She could almost imagine herself in a Venetian opera house, as long as she didn’t look out of the window.
As she sipped her strawberry cocktail, her anticipation for the doors to open grew.
Isaiah’s unease, evident in his failed attempts to not fidget with his cufflinks, was a welcome distraction from her own nerves.
“Have you been to the opera before?” she asked him.
“No, but I went to Autumn Adler’s concert last winter. She’s—”
“The concert pianist! I met her at a charity auction a few years back. You must have good connections; her tickets go fast,” Poppy said eagerly. “I’m so jealous you got to go to her show. I watched it online on my tour bus. Her music really pulls at the heartstrings.”
“My partner helped her with a case and she gave him some tickets, but sadly, his little boy was sick, so I got to go,” Isaiah explained.
Poppy vaguely recalled hearing about Autumn being attacked during a show, but she’d been in the thick of her US stint and didn’t know the details. What a coincidence that my bodyguard’s partner would—
Her thoughts were interrupted when she spotted an old flame across the foyer raising his glass in her direction.
Poppy offered a small smile and quickly turned away, hoping he wouldn’t interpret it as an invitation to join them. She couldn’t bear the thought of engaging in a conversation with him.
“Someone you know?” Isaiah looked over her shoulder, fiddling with the new strap on his wrist.
“An ex, sort of,” Poppy replied, helping him adjust the strap; it was a little stiff.
“Your ex is Scott Sanderson?”
“We weren’t official. He worked on one of the music videos for my last album.
” He was the last guy she’d dated before Joshua.
Her aunt had got rid of Scott by getting him a role in a movie shot halfway across the world, effortlessly ending whatever had been developing between them.
Now Poppy knew Joshua had been hoping for the same treatment.
“And?” Isaiah prompted.
“Nothing.” She shrugged. What is with this ship? I feel like I’m being haunted. “Why? Are you jealous?” she asked, watching Isaiah chug his beer.
“No,” he huffed. “Why would I be?” But he stood a little closer, and the smell of his cologne made her think, Sanderson who?
She felt a surge of warmth towards Isaiah. His nonchalance about Scott’s presence was comforting. It was as if he was telling her, ‘I’m here. You’re safe.’ It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“Poppy Roe, looking gorgeous as ever.” Scott’s voice made her stiffen uncomfortably.
I guess he didn’t take the hint.
“Scott, I thought you were still filming in Canada,” she said as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. He rested his hand on her lower back, and she was about to move away when Isaiah interrupted.
“Please give Ms Roe some space,” he said firmly, removing Scott’s hand from Poppy’s waist.
“Relax, big guy; we’re old friends.” Scott flashed a big smile and winked at Poppy. She couldn’t believe she’d ever fallen for his charms.
“Friend or not, please keep your hands to yourself if you want to keep them. Understand?” Isaiah said, getting between them.
Scott backed up, and Poppy noticed the sway in his step. He’d clearly indulged a little too much at the open bar.
“Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” Scott offered his hand to Isaiah. “I’m Scott. Scott Sanderson.”
Isaiah’s jaw clenched. “Isaiah Rivers, head of Ms. Roe’s security.”
Scott winced as Isaiah gripped his hand, and Poppy concealed her smile with the rim of her glass.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m happy to see you’re so protective of our girl.” He smacked Isaiah’s arm. Poppy noticed that his hand was slowly turning purple.
“It’s my job to ensure her security, but Poppy’s able to look out for herself,” Isaiah responded, dropping his hand. Scott flexed it and turned to Poppy.
“I heard about what happened with Joshua. And to think I considered him a friend! He should never have treated you so callously.” Scott sized Isaiah up, trying to stand a little taller. “I must admit I was relieved to hear you were single again.” He stepped a little too close for her liking.
Poppy inched away. She could smell the whisky on his breath.
“Who told you she was single?” Isaiah pulled her towards him, his arm possessively wrapped around her waist. She could feel his heart pounding against her back. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed by his possessiveness or turned on.
Scott’s smile became strained. “My mistake– I was misinformed.” He raised his hands in defeat. “Nice to see you again, Poppy.”
“Nice to meet you; I hope your next film does better than the last,” Isaiah said. Poppy’s eyes widened. Who knew he could be so petty?
“It’s a pleasure. I hope you both enjoy the rest of your trip.” Scott gritted his teeth and returned to his friends without a second glance.
“Sorry,” Isaiah said, releasing his grip once Scott was out of sight. “I didn’t mean to overstep with your friend.” He didn’t sound particularly sorry at all.
“Please don’t apologise. I didn’t want him pawing at me.”
“Instead, you had me pawing at you,” Isaiah said wryly. “He just wasn’t taking the hint to back off.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” Poppy teased, running her hand down his chest.
Isaiah took her hand as it reached his heart. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his gaze darkening and his grip on her tightening.
Poppy forgot they were in public for a moment, but the sound of clinking glasses demanded their attention. Captain Roberts stood at the closed doors to the theatre, ready to address the guests.
“My honoured guests, thank you for joining me this evening. We pray to Poseidon for a safe trip and calm seas. As our special guests, you will be the first to watch tonight’s performance. I hope this is a night you won’t soon forget.” She raised her glass, and the other guests cheered in response.
They took their seats in the red velvet chairs, though Poppy noted that the captain didn’t – a staff member approached her, and she quickly slipped away. Poppy wondered if something had happened, but was distracted by the round of applause as the curtain rose.
The elaborate set, reminiscent of ancient Greek architecture with its large columns, lush drapery and rich colours, enveloped the audience, and the dancers in their flowing robes and embellished jewellery led the entrance of the singers.
It was nice to be in the audience instead of on stage for once.
When the singers’ powerful voices echoed throughout the theatre, filling Poppy’s chest with the very essence of human emotion, she closed her eyes and let the music and language penetrate her soul.
She couldn’t help but think how she would never be able to sing like that.
The realisation of her own limitations and the beauty of the performance stirred a deep, bittersweet emotion within her.
As the antagonist and protagonist came to blows, the harmonies of the chorus and the booming orchestra added an overwhelming tension to the atmosphere.
Poppy hadn’t realised she was crying. She felt a surge of emotional vulnerability, a mix of fear and confusion, that she couldn’t shake off.
It was as though everything she had been keeping buried was starting to rise to the surface.
Her heart began to hammer, and the thought of staying stuck in her seat for another hour made her skin crawl.
Isaiah was completely engrossed in the clash of good and evil, of love and loss, as the protagonist agonised over her fallen lover. She was about to lean over and tell him to breathe when, in the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Joshua.
What the hell?
She focused her eyes to try to make out the face of the man watching her from the shadow of the tiered balcony above them. It had to be a trick of the light, or the theme of the tragedy messing with her mind. Surely it couldn’t be him.
She focused her attention back on the stage, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were penetrating the back of her head. She snuck a glance over her shoulder, needing to be sure, but found the seat empty. A gleam of light from the theatre door opening and closing caught her eye.
Before she could think better of it, Poppy got out of her seat, desperately needing to know if Joshua was lurking on board or if her mind was playing tricks on her.
If he was here, he could have been the one Calliope was talking to on the tape.
Hopefully, the rest of the guests would be too enamoured with the performance to notice her hurrying up the aisle and out the doors to the foyer.
As Poppy rushed into the foyer, the bartender behind the bar looked up.
“Are you doing alright, Ms. Roe?” he inquired warmly, setting aside the glass he was cleaning. “Can I get you something?”
Poppy hurried toward him, desperate for answers. “Did a man come out before me? He has highlighted blonde hair, about 5’11?” she asked, her heart racing.
The bartender shook his head. “I haven’t seen anyone like that come through since the performance began. The ushers come and go, but no guests that I noticed. Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Are you certain?” she pressed. “I really thought I saw him.”
“Honestly, I didn’t see anyone fitting that description,” he reassured her. “Would you like me to call someone?”
“No, I’m fine! Just a glass of water, please,” Poppy said, settling into a chair and trying to regain her composure. She couldn’t ask for help finding someone who had never boarded the ship.
“The opera can trigger some intense emotions. Take a few deep breaths,” the bartender said, handing her the glass of water.