4
The day seemed interminably long for Marco, even though he was as busy as usual for an embarkation day. He dealt with all the little hiccups one came to expect in the course of his duties – misdelivered luggage, lost children, dining reservation snafus, unanticipated illness among the entertainment staff and so forth, with the ease of long practice, but no matter how busy he was, the time seemed to drag.
He’d done a lot of thinking, and finally retrieved a solid memory of Evan. They’d shared a hot one-night stand about six years ago. Evan had been so cute, adorable in that newly out gay sort of way, with big eyes and wet lips and damp hands. They’d drunk far too much at the little bar they’d met at and ended up in Marco’s hotel room. Then Evan had ducked out before Marco could get a phone number.
Now he was back, and Marco wasn’t about to let him get away so quickly this time.
Finally, the dinner hour approached. He hurried to his cabin and took a shower, then changed into his freshly pressed dress whites. He took a long look in the mirror to make sure he was presentable. Was that a wild hair sticking out of his left eyebrow? Oh, gods…he’d be mortified if he showed up to dinner with Evan with a Slinky corkscrewing from his brow. He plucked it and, thus satisfied that he was looking as good as he was likely to get, left the cabin and headed up toward the deck where the Soliloquy restaurant was located. He arrived at precisely five minutes to eight and stopped just inside the door to scan the crowd.
There was the Captain’s table on the second-floor balcony, and there was Evan seated at it, looking adorably uncomfortable. He was pleased to see the seat to Evan’s right was unoccupied. Unable to keep the grin from his face, he smiled broadly as he approached the table and bid all the diners, including Captain Grecco – and Evan – a good evening.
Grecco gestured toward the table. “Ah, Marco! Welcome. Please have a seat. I’m so pleased you could join us this evening. Have you met everyone? Mr. and Mrs. Pearson, of the South Hampton Pearsons. The Pearsons own a chain of large grocery stores in the Northeast. Mrs. Vandelphin, heiress to the Maria Ricotta Cheese company. Mr. Evan Sharpe, who does a travel podcast. And of course, you know Patti and Jo Crespo. They’ve sailed with us many times.”
“Of course. I am pleased to see you again, Patti, Jo, and Evan. I’m very happy to meet all of you,“
he said, looking at each diner in turn, offering one of his best smiles.
“Marco is our cruise director. If you need anything in the way of seating for the shows, he’s the man to talk to.“
Grecco picked up the menu and perused it. “Ah, tonight is prime rib night! Absolutely delicious. I think I’ll have that.” He handed his menu to the waiter who was patiently waiting.
As if on cue, the rest of the table followed suit, placing their orders.
Patti and Jo held court at the table, directing the conversation. “Mrs. Vandelphin, has your family always been in…um, ricotta cheese?” Jo asked.
Mrs. Vandelphin, an older woman with wispy, dyed black hair teased into a helmet-like coif, nodded. “Oh, yes. My grandfather brought the recipe over from Italy in 191. That was during the Great War, you know. Why, he was just a scamp of seventeen when he…”
Marco’s attention wandered from Mrs. Vandelphin’s less-than-riveting familial tale of soft cheese, and he watched Evan out of the corner of his eye. Evan looked even less interested than he was.
“Evan, tell us about your podcast,“
Patti asked when Mrs. Vandelphin finally wrapped up her ricotta saga. Marco noticed every eye at the table turned toward Evan, and Evan actually squirmed in his seat. He wanted badly to pat Evan’s knee and assure him all would be well but refrained from the familiarity.
“Oh, it’s…I…“
Evan stammered then seemed to buck up. “I started with a blog a couple of years ago, but once I added a podcast it’s really taken off. I give people honest, down-to-earth reviews of vacation destinations. Photos, short videos, interviews, that kind of thing. It’s sort of an everyman podcast. No fancy bells or whistles. No champagne and caviar. Just meat and potatoes and vacay. This is the first cruise I’m doing.”
“How marvelous!“
Captain Grecco said. “I hope you’re finding everything to your taste.”
“Oh, yes. It’s been a great experience so far. Marco has been very accommodating.“
Evan’s gaze darted toward him. Well, at least he acknowledged Marco’s presence. That was a step in the right direction.
“Lovely,“
Captain Grecco said. “Perhaps you could give Mr. Sharpe a peek at the behind-the-scenes goings on aboard ship?”
Marco nodded. “Yes, indeed. I’ve already invited him to accompany me to the Silent Disco tonight.“
He noticed Evan’s cheeks flush in a perfect little blush. How adorable was this guy? “We’ll go directly after dinner.”
The sommelier poured wine for the table, and Captain Grecco raised his glass, offering a toast for the table. “May all your days be smooth sailing and your nights filled with pleasure!”
Well, what do you know? Marco thought as he sipped his wine. That’s just what I have in mind. To hell with the ship’s no fraternization policy. What they don’t know can’t hurt them. Besides, Evan is no stranger.
Evan squirmed in his seat and chewed the inside of his cheek. He was so nervous about being alone with Marco. What would happen if Marco remembered him? Worse, what if Marco didn’t remember him at all?
He supposed running was an option. Sprinting out of the restaurant and all the way to his cabin, then bolting the door behind him and hiding under his sheets until the cruise ended.
That would be a perfectly reasonable response, wouldn’t it?
Not.
Was everyone at the table staring at him? He noticed twin pleased expressions on Patti and Jo’s faces. They must suspect how Marco’s presence was affecting him. If he left now, they’d know it was because he was attracted to Marco. And worse, so would Marco. Oh, gods. He was screwed.
Why couldn’t he cruise like everyone else? Just footloose and fancy free. When he booked the trip, he had three rules in mind regardless of what Tina had said. One - avoid sunburn. Two -- avoid karaoke. And three -- avoid hooking up with anyone.
Now it looked like he was only batting one for three. The back of his neck was so tender and sore he knew it must be bright red from the short time he’d spent walking the ship, and he’d managed to wrangle a date – however unintentionally – with the hottest guy on the ship. A guy he’d known -- in the carnal sense -- before. The only thing he’d avoided so far was the karaoke, and he wasn’t so sure Marco was going to let him escape that worse-than-death situation. Although in all honesty, a Silent Disco didn’t sound like karaoke. It sounded, well, silent. He could do silent. It was the disco part that worried him.
He had a mental image of himself doing Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever moves on a dance floor and grabbed for his wine glass, downing it. He saw Jo raise an eyebrow at him but didn’t care. He needed the liquid courage right now. He was afraid the Silent Disco might be every bit as embarrassing as karaoke would be.
Appetizers were served, but Evan barely tasted his escargot, even though they were one of his favorites.
“Are they not to your liking?“
Marco asked. “I’ll get the waiter. You can order something else.”
“No, no. They’re fine. I like the escargot. It’s just…my appetite isn’t what it should be.”
“Are you ill?”
Yes! I’m sick. I must return to my cabin immediately and stay there until we return to port! I might be contagious! Unfortunately, he knew Marco would insist he see the ship’s physician, and that would only prove he was faking it. “No, I’m fine.”
“Oh, good.“
Marco smiled at him, a devastatingly handsome grin that showed his deep dimples in all their glory.
Damn those dimples!
Evan forced himself to turn his attention to his food and managed to finish his appetizer just as the main course was served.
Dinner dragged on, with Evan robotically eating every bite, smiling mechanically when it seemed the conversation warranted it, and worried every moment what his night would be like. Finally, dessert was finished, and coffee was drunk, and Marco stood up.
“Evan? Shall we?“
Marco smiled at him. “I need to make sure everything is set up for the Silent Disco.”
“Oh, yes. I guess so,“
Evan replied with all the gusto of a man on his way to the gallows. He stood up, bade the Captain and the rest of the guests goodnight, ignored the wink Patti threw him, and followed Marco out of the restaurant and to the elevators.
“You seem really nervous,“
Marco said as the elevator doors slid silently closed. “Please don’t be. This is going to be fun, I promise.”
“I’m not nervous,“
Evan said, practically shaking in his shoes. He lifted his chin defiantly, even though he was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. Not, he realized, because of the Silent Disco, although that was a part of it, but because of his very close proximity to Marco. They were in the elevator together, alone, without anyone, not even Jo and Patti standing between them as buffers.
He was nervous because all he wanted to do was look at Marco, to drink in those dark good looks, those deep dimples, that winning smile, to touch that slight scruff on Marco’s cheek, while at the same time he didn’t want to seem interested. He wanted to know if those lips tasted as good as he remembered. Avoid hooking up with someone, he reminded himself. The most important thing to avoid of them all, even more so than karaoke. Jeremy had ruined him for other men.
Hadn’t he?
The Silent Disco was being held in the Grand Foyer, an open area on Deck Three with a bar and a dance floor. Two DJs were set up, one on either side of the grand staircase.
“DJ Whammo and DJ Upside will be hosting the event,“
Marco explained as he led Evan to the table at the front of the area piled high with sets of earphones. “I don’t have much to do. I’ll open the show and turn it over to them. Guests take a pair of earphones and wear them. I have assistants handing them out. They can switch between the two DJs by hitting this button here.” He showed a pair to Evan. “This way, each person listens to the music he or she likes, and dances the night away, but no one else can hear what they’re listening to.”
“Oh! So, there’s no real disco in the Silent Disco, then?“
Evan asked, intrigued despite himself. “No Donna Summer thing going on?”
“The DJs may choose to play some disco, but for the most part DJ Whammo will be playing Oldies like YMCA and Queen, while DJ Upside will play a more modern mix.”
“I’m not much for dancing,“
Evan said. “Two left feet.”
“Want to know a secret? Me, either,“
Marco said, and grinned. “I’m way more of a slow dance sort of guy.”
Oh, the thought of being held in Marco’s arms while being swept around a dance floor to a sweet waltz shook Evan to his very core.
He took videos of the dance floor, the DJs, and the table of earphones. He’d do a voiceover later explaining how everything worked.
“Ready? Come this way. I need to speak with the DJs and my crew,“
Marco said, laying a hand on his arm.
It was that single touch that gave Evan an epiphany.
What was he doing? Why was he actively trying to get away from Marco? Marco was handsome, sweet, kind, attentive, and drop-dead sexy. What was wrong with getting a little when there was no chance of strings or commitments? When the cruise was over they’d part ways – again -- neither worse for the experience. Just like before.
Nothing wrong with it at all. He needed to grow up, be more mature. Not every relationship had to end with promises and rings. Maybe another one-night stand was just what the doctor ordered.
And Marco was being very nice to him. He wished he knew if Marco remembered him, then decided it really didn’t matter. Marco could get to know him now.
As if by magic, Evan felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders, and when he smiled back at Marco this time, it was with an unguarded, fully inviting grin.
Marco’s eyebrows shot up, then he smiled again and took Evan by the hand, leading him to the first DJ. It was only when he began speaking that he let loose of Evan’s hand.