Chapter Twenty-Two CASEY
Chapter Twenty-Two
CASEY
So apparently there’s a difference between being on board Aurelia as an employee of Bon Voyage and being on board Aurelia as Phillip’s invited guest. I thought I was already living in the lap of luxury, but the next morning when I wake up in my suite, utterly hungover, lamenting the idea of ever having to get up, I smell ... breakfast.
I sit up and sniff, confused.
Out in the living room, someone has delivered (a) a dining table that wasn’t there before, (b) four chairs to go around it, (c) a tablecloth, and (d) a dining table’s worth of food for me—everything from croissants and pain au chocolat to bacon and sausage and three types of eggs. I lift the lids and find everything is still warm. I break off a bite of one of the croissants, and it practically melts in my mouth. I utter “oh my gawwwwd” while forcing more into my gullet as fast as possible.
In the center of the table, there’s a floral arrangement with flowers I’ve never seen in my little corner of White Plains, New York, alongside a beautiful card with a gold leaf border and looping black cursive.
Phillip would have perfect handwriting ...
I have a little work to get done this morning, but meet me at the pool around lunchtime.—P
PS I hope you enjoy your breakfast. If I’ve left something off, phone your butler, and he’ll bring it up.
Right, of course. I’ll just phone my butler.
Everyone, duh, if you need anything, just phone your butlers !
What is he even playing at? Are there people who would be dissatisfied with this insane breakfast spread? It’s too much for me to eat all by myself; I have to share it.
I go knocking on Sienna’s door, and Javier opens it.
“ Wah !” I lift my hands. “You’re not wearing any clothes!”
“A towel,” he says, unfazed.
“A hand towel, from the looks of it.” I peer through my parted fingers to see him standing there with his arms crossed, completely unbothered by his nakedness. “I can practically see your— your —”
“Casey ...,” Sienna croaks, walking toward me with her head in her hands. “You’d better be over here for a bloody good reason, because my head is spinning after last night, and there’s nothing I want more in the entire world than some tea and toast.”
I drop my hands to my hips. “I have an entire spread in my suite, courtesy of Phillip. Tea included. I came over to invite you two to share it with me—and then I got distracted by Javier in this loincloth.”
Her lips curl as she takes him in, pride shining in her eyes. “Yes, he is rather distracting ... Javier, go change and meet us over in her suite. Casey, lead the way to that tea. I’m dying here.”
“Hot and heavy stuff happening with you two, huh?” I ask once we’re alone in my suite.
She waves away my statement. “Javier is merely someone to help me pass the time. Nothing serious. My god, look at all this! Oh, Twinings!” She says running toward the table where there’s a tin of assorted teabags waiting for her. “Oh, I could cry.”
“You two seemed serious last night in the club, dancing all over each other,” I point out, going in for some bacon now that I’ve satisfied my initial carb craving.
She chuckles as she goes about making her cup of tea. “Oh, that?” Again, she’s downplaying it. “It’s nothing. Just ... he’s fun. That’s all. What about you and Phillip, huh?”
“Oh. ‘It’s nothing. Just, he’s fun.’” I throw her words back at her, and she sighs.
“We’re both doomed then.”
“Utterly.”
She holds up a plate filled with pastries. “Here, have a Danish. It looks delicious, and maybe it’ll distract us from these men.”
All in all, we have a good morning. Javier has to jet off and work for a little while, but Sienna and I hit the gym and work out after breakfast. Then we slip down to the spa to get our nails done. I go to pay them (unsure of my place on board this ship), and the lady behind the counter chuckles at me!
“Mr. Woodmont would have my job if I accepted your payment, Ms. Hughes,” she teases.
What in the world! How does she know? Did he send an all-staff email to them or something? Probably!
After Sienna and I part ways, it takes me a long time to figure out exactly what I want to wear to the pool. I have three bathing suits to choose from. I decide on the lavender one, which pairs nicely with a floral-patterned pareu that I knot at my waist. I braid my hair loosely enough that a few pieces slip free and frame my face. I draw the line at wearing wedges or heels to the pool deck. I will not break my ankle for the benefit of slightly elongated legs. Strappy sandals will have to do.
I reach for my laptop and phone to stow them in my pool bag, but on second thought, I leave them both behind instead. While it’s tempting to immediately jump into strategizing about my future prospects, I want to take the next two days to decompress and settle into my current life. Scrolling through Indeed before I really know what I’m looking for will just lead me toward applying for another job I’ll end up hating. While my savings aren’t anything to brag about, they can keep me afloat for a little while if I’m careful with spending. It’ll be hard to return to real life as I know it once I disembark from Aurelia . No more free food and beverages? No more complimentary laundry service and maid service and turndown service? You mean, I can’t take my butler with me? What’s a girl to do?
Maybe I’ll shove as much food in my bag as I can before I leave the ship on Tuesday. Ha! Kidding. ( Mostly .)
Instead of my laptop and phone, I take my paperback and my sunscreen.
I’m early, so I’m not surprised I beat Phillip to the pool area. I walk around, looking for free lounge chairs. Since we’re cruising today to our last port in the Cayman Islands, everyone’s on board the ship and making full use of its amenities. The pool is packed, and the loungers all have either warm bodies occupying them or are otherwise claimed with towels and bags. At first, I don’t bother going toward the exclusive area that’s cordoned off with red velvet rope. I’ve never been a VIP, exclusive, by-invite-only kind of gal. Then I remember who I’m quasi-dating for the remainder of this cruise, and I could thunk my forehead. Of course he’d ensure I have a place to sit. Or at least the people he employs would ensure it. There are two lounge chairs with a sign posted near them:
R ESERVED FOR C ASEY H UGHES
Well, isn’t that convenient.
The moment—and I mean down to the millisecond —I touch my lounge chair, a champagne bucket is delivered, a fruit tray is brought, a snack basket is set out, and an umbrella is popped open.
Two attendants smile at me. “Can we get you anything else at the moment, Ms. Hughes?”
I get the feeling that if I asked for an elephant or even, hell, a family of elephants, they wouldn’t bat an eye. Right away. And would you prefer African or Asian?
“I’m all set, thank you, both.” I squint to read their name tags. “Elise and Danielle, you’ve both been very helpful. Thank you.”
You know what’s funny about all this? Playing at being rich is so stressful. Like, do I tip them? I don’t have a single dollar on me. My wallet is back in my suite, and it’s filled with cobwebs and spare buttons. Also, like, I know they set out the food and champagne, but do I open the champagne bottle, or do I ask them to do it?
Fortunately, they’re back mere moments later with a cool wrap to drape across my shoulders and a glass of citrus-infused water from the spa.
“Would you like us to pop the champagne now or wait for Mr. Woodmont to join you?”
I smile. “We’ll wait.”
I don’t want to seem rude. He’s being incredibly generous, and also, after last night, I’m not dying to get going on more alcohol. The citrus water is perfect, though, hydrating and refreshing.
I’ve just finished my first glass, and they’re pouring me a second when I see Phillip out of the corner of my eye. I turn as he rounds the edge of the pool. I don’t know why it shocks me to see him wearing gray swimming trunks and a T-shirt. I guess I sort of thought he’d come out here to sunbathe in a suit. Hilarious mental image aside, I’m glad I have my sunglasses on so I can admire him at my leisure and still have plausible deniability.
I’m tempted to rearrange myself. I am sitting here, comfortable with one leg stretched out and one leg bent, people-watching and chatting with Elise and Danielle. Knowing that Phillip could be here at any moment, maybe I should have casually draped myself like an Aphrodite portrait or something. All seductive hips and curves. Alas, it’s too late.
The moment he reaches me, he bends down to press a kiss on my cheek. With his lips near my ear, before he stands, he whispers, “Hi, gorgeous.”
Damn all the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
“Hi,” I chirp like an excited tween.
He sits down on the lounger beside mine. I’m not surprised to see he has his laptop with him. It’s Sunday, but I doubt work ever truly stops for him. But he said he would meet me at the pool, and he was right on time, so he gets kudos for that. I don’t mind if he needs to get some things done. I want to read my book anyway.
“Have you eaten lunch?” he asks, tugging off his sunglasses so I get full access to those baby blues. Ugh. Does everything about him have to be both noteworthy and devastating?
I point to the table behind our lounge chairs where Elise and Danielle have laid out all the food.
“I told them I wasn’t very hungry, but it’s like they have a quota to meet or something.”
He laughs. “It’s my fault. I wanted to be sure you had everything you need.”
I smile. “The breakfast spread was ... decadent. I’ll say that. I shared it with Sienna and Javier.”
“Are they together officially?”
“I think the same way we are. Officially ... for the time being .”
He studies me as I say this, his eyes narrowing a bit when he nods.
“I’m starved. Let me get a plate, and then you can tell me about your morning. Would you like anything?”
He stands up to get his food, and in doing so, he drapes a hand casually on my shoulder. It’s nothing. And yet the brush of his fingers serves as yet another reminder of how casually he pulls my strings.
“I’m okay.”
We settle in over the next half hour, reading and working and talking. I get the absolute pleasure of watching him take off his shirt and recline back in his chair. He works on his phone and his laptop—his concentration never wavering. He takes a call, and I close my eyes and listen to him. He has a way of speaking on the phone with a commanding, firm tone that sends tendrils of heat through my body.
Or maybe that’s just the blazing sun.
Yes, that’s it.
Phillip is busy, busy, busy, and that’s okay. I’m hot, and I’ve just finished a chapter of my book. I want to go for a dip. I wish I could be in the ocean today, but this pool is a close second.
I push off my lounger and walk over to the pool so I can test the water. It’s chilly, but I was hoping it would be. With the sun sitting straight overhead and temperatures rising by the second, I need to cool off. I walk down the stairs until my hips slip beneath the cool surface, and then I plunge under all at once, swimming the length of the pool before coming up on the other side. I take a breath and then do it again, swimming back and forth, carefully maneuvering around the other guests. Once, when I come up, Elise catches my attention and asks me if I need a drink.
“Could you send two pi?a coladas over to our lounge chairs, please?”
“Right away.”
Phillip sees me pointing in his direction. He’s not working anymore. His laptop is shut, and he’s leaning back on his lounge chair, his knee propped up. Apparently, he’s been watching me, though I’m not sure for how long. A funny little feeling trickles through me. I like his attention. It’s intoxicating to know he can’t take his eyes off me, and I’m not even trying to be sexy or seductive; I’m just swimming, just enjoying the water lapping over my body. I could stay in the water all day, but eventually, I see our drinks getting delivered, and I’m anxious to try mine.
Phillip watches me walk up the stairs. I’m aware of the image I present in my lavender bikini, water sluicing down my body. I can’t seem to bother with feeling self-conscious. It’s the sun and the setting and the heady knowledge that I’m probably driving Phillip insane. When I reach him, I take the towel off my lounge chair and pat my face and chest dry. Then I look at him with a smile.
“Working?” I ask, all charm.
“Not anymore.” He pats his lounge chair near his hip so I’ll take a seat beside him. I do because he asked nicely and because I want to give in to the simple pleasure of being near him. He wastes no time wrapping his arm around my waist and hauling me against him so that I’m practically on his lap. I smell his cologne just before he kisses my shoulder.
“Thanks for the drink.”
“Do you like fruity cocktails like that, or should I have sent over something else?”
“I like it all. A setting like this calls for a pi?a colada, and our poolside bartenders know just how to make them.”
I retrieve them from the table and pass his over before we clink them together. “Cheers.”
We hold eye contact as I take a sip. Creamy coconut blends with rum; then there’s the kick of the pineapple juice. Yum! I think they’ve even added a hint of lime.
“It’s delicious,” I say, licking a bit of the frothy coconut cream off the corner of my mouth.
Phillip notices. I know because I see that muscle tick in his jaw.
“Is anybody watching us?” I ask, leaning toward him.
“I don’t care” is his fervent reply before he meets me halfway and kisses me before I can kiss him. I smile against his lips, and he laughs before kissing me again. It’s such a sudden shift—the teasing banter gives way to hot need in an instant. I lean into him and tilt my head while his hand comes up to tangle in my hair. Then we both realize how carried away we’re getting, and we break apart. I laugh. Phillip clears his throat.
“Come swim with me,” I say, standing.
“I’m embarrassed to admit I haven’t been in our pool a single time.”
“Phillip!” I reach for his hand and drag him after me. “We’re fixing that right now. Come on.”
Swimming is one of those activities that seems to cart you right back to your childhood. There’s something so carefree about it, and I see Phillip relax as soon as we sink under the surface. He does what I did earlier, sliding under and getting his whole body wet, though he looks to be a much better swimmer than I am. I watch him cross the pool once and then swim back to me.
I smile and yelp as he picks me up in the water, and I wrap my legs around him. His hands grip my thighs, and he carries me around the pool like that, going fast so the water splashes around us. I laugh with glee until he backs me up to the bench along the perimeter and drops me down. I almost start to protest until his arms cage me in on the seat as he leans in for another kiss.
Just like before, it seems to go from zero to one hundred in a heartbeat.
“I know why you had to set me down,” I taunt when he pulls back, looking me over with a desire-filled gaze. My hand moves under the water’s surface, skimming down his chest and abs until I find the top of his swimming trunks.
He hisses and catches my hand. “Not wise, Casey.”
But his tone isn’t nearly admonishing enough. In fact, it’s almost challenging .
“ Not wise ?” I tut, pushing my hand down farther so that I skim across the front of his trunks, right over his hard length.
He doesn’t stop me. He lets me touch him in public, though where we are, the way we’re angled, no one can see what we’re doing. My hand is hidden beneath the surface of the water, and I won’t take it too far, just ... I’ll continue doing this, teasing him gently, making him sweat ...
“Casey,” he groans through clenched teeth. “You’re killing me here.”
“Oops, sorry. Here, let’s get out and go lounge some more.”
I play like I’m going to get out, before his hands clamp down on my thighs. “Stay put, you menace. Give me a minute.”
I’m wearing a gloating smirk. The power has already gone to my head.
I slip forward off the bench so that our bodies brush together. My stomach rubs over him, then my hips, and he squeezes his eyes closed for a second. When they open again, flames are lurking there. Maybe I’ve pushed too far, or maybe ... I’m just enjoying the last few hours I have in this man’s company. No sense in playing it safe now.
I lean forward until my lips barely brush his ear. “Should we go back to my suite or yours ?”