Epilogue
Maika
Six months later.
If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be spending my Monday mornings stuck in a glass-walled office overlooking the harbor, surrounded by filing cabinets and computer screens, wearing a regular suit, I would’ve told them to cut the crap.
Me, a woman of the deck, of the sea breeze, of organizing conga lines with two hundred sangria-fueled tourists and working up a sweat.
But of course, life throws surprises your way, surprises bring love, and love…
well, love puts a shore-based contract in front of you and ties you to the sexiest, most efficient, and most exasperating woman on the planet.
“Maika, please, tell me you haven’t gone back to using the color-coding system from the life jackets to organize the budgets for the Marine IV’s choreography.”
Helen’s voice comes from across the large double desk we share.
I look up from my screen, where I’m struggling with a management program that has more buttons than a spaceship, and meet her gaze.
She’s still as beautiful as the first day I saw her aboard a ship.
Today she’s wearing a perfectly ironed sky-blue shirt, and she has that “I’m going to open a security file on you” look that, much to my chagrin, turns me on in every way.
“Come on, show some respect,” I reply, resting my elbows on the table and pointing my glitter pen at her.
“Fuchsia is for the Caribbean night outfit, bright yellow for pool activities, and navy blue for boring meetings with the bosses. It’s a foolproof system.
My mind works on visual cues, not numerical folders like yours. ”
Helen sighs, but it’s that sigh of hers that hides a smile she’s trying to keep from me. She takes off her glasses and stares at me.
“Your foolproof system made the CFO think the budget for next week’s foam party was the fire contingency plan for Deck 7. He nearly had a heart attack when he read that it would take ‘three megaton cannons and two hunks dressed as sailors’ to put out the fire.”
I burst out laughing, a roar that echoes off the office walls.
“What a joke that finance guy is—the man has zero imagination. Well, listen, a good blast of foam at the right time will put out any fire, trust me.”
“Maika…” she warns me, narrowing those eyes that drive me crazy.
“Okay, okay, I’ll fix it right now,” I say, blowing her a kiss that she pretends to dodge, though I know she’s melting inside.
“But admit it, since we’ve been here, this office has been so much more fun.
Before, this place looked like a dentist’s office, and now, look, I’ve put a giant flamingo float in the corner! ”
“The flamingo is blocking the path to the emergency exit in case of evacuation; I’ve already told you that three times,” Helen replies, putting her glasses back on.
“The flamingo gives the company its identity, Helen.”
This has been our daily routine for the past six months.
When the shipping company decided to create a pioneering position at headquarters to coordinate the entertainment department with strict safety protocols—basically to prevent us entertainers from doing crazy things that would get on the crew’s nerves—our team has consistently stood out.
Even the captain of the Marine IV said, “If these two women managed not to crash the ship while falling in love and yelling at each other in the hallways, they’re capable of running the entire company.
” And he wasn’t wrong. We’re like oil and water, order and chaos, the Excel spreadsheet and the rumba.
But when we work together, we’re absolutely perfect.
I get up from my chair, stretching my legs, and walk around the office, circling the desk.
Helen is still typing on her tablet, focused, with that cute little wrinkle that forms between her eyebrows when she takes the world seriously.
I stand behind her, rest my hands on her shoulders, and start massaging her neck.
I feel her tense up for a second, but she immediately lets her head fall back, letting out a moan of relief.
“Oh my God…” I whisper, brushing her earlobe. “When are you going to stop treating Mondays like they’re a drill?”
“Someone has to do it,” she murmurs, closing her eyes and surrendering to my hands. “If I let you take charge, you’d end up swapping the officers’ uniforms for tank tops and linen pants.”
“Hey, the officers would actually benefit from that—linen is so cool for summer. Besides, you’d look fabulous in a tank top.”
Helen smiles. She grabs one of my hands, pulls it away from her shoulder, and kisses the back of it. Then she pulls me until I’m forced to go around the table and sit right on her lap.
“Maika, we’re on the clock, and the walls are glass,” she says, though her hands have already settled on my waist.
“That’s why God invented blinds,” I reply, reaching out to press the button on the wall. In five seconds, the slats close, leaving us in a beautiful twilight, illuminated only by the reflection of the sun seeping in through the edges.
“You’re incorrigible,” Helen whispers.
“I’m passionate, and I’m madly in love with my boss. Well, my co-boss.”
Helen laughs. I love seeing her like this, without the pressure of the ship’s uniform, without having to maintain the required distance from the crew.
Here, in the privacy of our office, she’s simply my Helen.
The woman who held me when I felt the world falling apart, the one who learned to let go of control to let in a little of my madness, and the one who shows me every night, in our beachfront apartment, that her heart is the safest haven I’ll ever find.
“Sometimes I find myself staring at you in the middle of board meetings,” Helen confesses, running one of her hands up my back, “and I still can’t believe you’re here. That we’re together. I thought I’d lose you in that port in Ibiza.”
“Lose me?” I reply, caressing her cheek, tracing that perfect jawline.
“If I’m like one of those stubborn stickers, Helen, no one can peel me off you,” I joke.
“Besides, I told you on the gangway: I want to fight by your side, not against you. And look how well we’re doing at it.
” We’ve reduced security incidents by twenty percent and passenger complaints by forty. We’re world-class.
“We’re a good team,” she admits, bringing her face close to mine. “The best.”
“Well, prove it to me. Less reports and more action.”
Helen doesn’t think twice. She closes the last bit of distance between us and kisses me.
My fingers tangle in her hair, undoing the updo until her hair falls freely over her shoulders, exactly the way I like it.
She moans against my lips and presses me harder against her body, showing me that behind all that facade of order and discipline there’s a fire that only I know how to ignite.
“You’ve left me a mess,” she scolds me as soon as we pull apart.
“You look way more beautiful with your hair all messy. It gives you a ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ vibe that I find highly dangerous for the company’s productivity.”
She bursts out laughing, gives me one last quick kiss on the lips, and helps me up from her lap.
Helen picks up her glasses from the desk, and I return to my side of the table, but before sitting down, I look at her with a spark of excitement in my eyes, remembering the plane ticket I have tucked away in my purse.
“By the way,” I say, looking at her with a huge smile. “We’re leaving for Spain on Friday afternoon. We’ve already had our time off approved.”
Helen looks up, and I see a mixture of nervousness and tenderness cross her eyes. She knows exactly what that trip means.
“Is everything ready for the final move?” she asks.
“Everything,” I reply, my heart swelling with immense pride. “Her spot at the new ocean-view retirement home is confirmed, and she can’t wait to leave the northern winters behind and enjoy a cold glass of lemonade in the afternoon sun.”
Helen nods, moved. I know how much it means to her to have helped organize this whole process, making sure my grandmother lacks nothing in terms of comfort and medical care. And, above all, she knows what it means to me to have her closer.
“I’m so happy for you, Maika. She deserves it. You both deserve it.”
I bite my lower lip, looking at her with all the love I’m capable of.
“Hey…” I say, winking at her with that self-assuredness I’ll never lose. “What about you? Are you ready to officially meet her in person and face the grilling of an elderly woman more dangerous than a Category 10 hurricane?”
Helen smiles confidently, crosses her arms, and holds my gaze with that self-assurance that made me fall in love with her from the very first second.
“Of course I am. I’ve passed Coast Guard inspections and evacuation drills with three thousand passengers on board, Maika. I’m more than ready for your grandmother.”
“Wow…” I laugh, turning on my computer screen again. “Well, get ready, because that woman is going to see right through you in two minutes. But don’t worry, I’ve already told her that you also love drinking lemonade at sunset.”
“Then I’m going to love her.”
Helen smiles again before diving back into the charts on her tablet.
I rest my chin in my hand and watch her in silence for a few seconds, savoring the wonderful certainty of knowing that I no longer have to run from anything.
I look at the flamingo float in the corner, the blinds that still shield us from the rest of the world, and the sun’s reflection playing with golden sparkles in her hair.
I know there will be more Mondays of budget battles, more afternoons of cold coffee, and more endless Excel spreadsheets, but I also know that each of those days will end the same way: with me taking refuge in her arms and her losing control just for me.