Chapter 5
By six, an apology was slipped under Lucy’s cabin.
A group notice now reminded Northstar staff that gossip was a violation of the employee handbook.
Adam read it twice, tapped the note as resolved, and later brushed his lips against Lucy’s bare shoulder while she fastened an earring in the mirror.
That small, familiar intimacy almost convinced her that everything would settle back into place.
She stood on their balcony, the sea darkening beyond the railing, hair pinned up to reveal her neck. The bronze dress she’d chosen for the captain’s dinner shimmered in the waning light. Adam stepped behind her to clasp the tiny gold chain she wore, his fingers pausing against her skin.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered. “I’m sorry the cruise has been such a mess.”
Lucy met his gaze in the mirror’s reflection—his profile stern beneath the bathroom’s soft glow—and gave a half-smile. “The cruise is gorgeous. It’s your company that’s confusing.”
Adam chuckled softly, that familiar dry note returning. “My company can sell anything except common sense. Anyone who gets confused again can be thrown overboard after dessert.”
The dining room brimmed with Northstar executives and their spouses, women glittering in silk beneath a chandelier whose crystals flecked the marble foyer like rain.
A white-jacketed officer checked names against a chart, then summoned the ma?tre d’.
Adam’s expression rippled from confidence to disbelief.
“Mr. Shay, you and Ms. Labelle are at the captain’s table,” the officer announced. “Ms. Brooks is with the Northstar family party by the windows.”
Adam’s face went blank. “No.”
The ma?tre d’ consulted the chart. “Your group coordinator planned the seating, sir. Ms. Labelle was listed as your guest.”
Before Lucy could reply, Karina appeared in the foyer’s glow, ivory gown elegant enough to be mistaken for bridal wear. Steven followed. Both glanced at the chart as though reading a rude insult.
“That can’t be right,” Karina said. “I sent the corrected list weeks ago.”
The ma?tre d’ pointed. “The captain’s office requested Mr. Shay and partner after receiving the executive bios. Your name was attached to his materials, madam.”
“As his executive assistant,” Karina said with quick politeness. “Lucy is his guest. Move me anywhere.”
Seated guests shifted behind them. Adam bent close to the ma?tre d’, voice firm but not loud. “Ms. Brooks sits with me. Place Ms. Labelle and Mr. Driver at another table.”
A flurry of apologies ensued. Five minutes later Lucy found herself at the captain’s right, Adam at her left, while Karina and Steven were two tables away. Despite herself, Lucy noticed how ivory caught the lamplight just a shade more flatteringly than her bronze.
Elise Hartmann, head of Northstar’s European division, slid into the empty chair opposite Lucy. Silver hair framed a posture that might have been carved from marble, and though she’d been one of the first to congratulate Karina as “Adam’s fiancée,” she offered Lucy a genuine apology now.
“I made an assumption in Toronto last autumn,” Elise explained, voice low enough to share only with Lucy. “Karina told me about the engagement venue, the ring resizing, her argument with the florist. I simply assumed she spoke of her own engagement.”
Lucy leaned back, nerves vibrating. “Did she mention me?”
Elise paused, choosing words as if rolling grapes in her mouth. “She used your name when describing the ring size. At that point I thought Lucy was the jeweler.”
Adam’s fork clattered against his plate. “Karina arranged logistics for most of the proposal. I was traveling that week.”
Elise’s apology softened. “Yes—she said you were paralyzed by the thought of choosing your own flowers. It made a funny story, especially after two glasses of wine. I’m sorry to have misunderstood.”
Lucy stared at her plate, a lone curl of saffron sauce framing a bit of lobster she didn’t taste.
Adam lowered his gaze to her hand. “Hey, it’s just a mistake.”
Lucy lifted her eyes to his. The words between them landed with an odd weightlessness that made them harder to deflect. She searched his face, wondering if he knew how small her world felt when everyone assumed she didn’t belong with him.
“Karina’s been making a lot of mistakes where I’m concerned,” she said hesitantly.
Adam took a breath, fingers wrapped around his glass stem. “You think she’s deliberately spun a tale that she and I are engaged?”
Lucy hesitated. “I don’t know. I just know I ended up the as the odd one out.”
“She has a boyfriend,” Adam said, voice measured and slightly exasperated.
Her eyes darted to Steven a few tables away, laughing at something Karina said. They looked at ease, a picture of happiness.
“That doesn’t answer anything I said,” she murmured.
“It answers the part where you thought she wanted your life,” he replied. His temper was still tight, though controlled. “She’s the most valuable person on my team I won’t accuse her of something so ridiculous.”
Lucy bit her lip and looked away, leaving unvoiced the question of who was the most valuable person in his life. She worried she might not like the answer if she asked.
They ate the rest of dinner in a bubble of polite conversation with the captain, but she no longer felt shared warmth.
She watched Adam’s thumb tap the side of his water glass whenever Karina’s laughter drifted over, and wondered if after so many years together, their unity held through inertia rather than strength.
When dessert and speeches ended, Lucy slipped away to the foyer before the applause began. Adam followed her, and they crossed the marble floor toward the elevators in silence, their mirrored reflections—him in tuxedo, her in bronze gown—staring back with unspoken distance.
Inside the elevator, the doors slid shut on the ninth-deck corridor. The air was hushed, the lights soft overhead.
“I just need you to understand how this feels,” Lucy said. “I need you to listen to my story before you rush to defend her.”
Adam studied the numbers above the door, jaw clenched. “And I need facts before deciding someone I trust might be working against you. The idea is ridiculous, Lucy.”
The doors thudded open. Lucy flicked a look at him—equal parts challenge and plea—then stepped into the corridor without waiting to see if he would follow. The doors closed between them, leaving her alone under the humming lights.