Chapter 10
Jenn sat in her room and ugly-cried for roughly thirty minutes before she decided she was over that. She was on a cruise ship, dammit. There were no responsibilities, no DUI, absolutely nothing to keep her from getting all-out, sloppy, fall-down drunk. In a moment of preventive clarity, being in no mood for company, she thought to wear her frumpiest, most dowdy and uninteresting outfit. She just didn’t know what that was, given her expectations at the time of packing.
Looking over the collection of lace, silk, cotton, and spandex her closet had to offer, she briefly considered wearing the complementary bathrobe included in her room, then decided against it. There would probably be some sort of policy in place to deal with clearly-crying, robe-wearing, sorrow-drowning women in the cruise line handbook. She had no desire to be placed on some “watch” or something.
In the end, she went with the tasteful yet covering flared jacket. Barely any skin showing, a concession to her better sense in the event there was a chilly evening, it met her parameters for now. Not the intended purpose of the piece, but a use, nonetheless. She buttoned the jacket, pushed the hair of her pixie forward into as boyish a look as she could, and went straight to the door.
Aware now of Trey’s penchant for watching through the peephole for her (which felt a little creepy to her, in this frame of mind), Jenn opted to take the long way to the elevators, the route that wouldn’t take her past Trey’s door.
Don’t give him the satisfaction .
Jenn punched the down button on the elevator, then stepped aboard when the carriage opened. She stared for several moments at the bank of buttons, no destination in mind, except for two details: alcohol and wherever Trey was not, nor likely to be. She briefly wished, not for the first time, that there was a women-only bar of some sort on the ship.
“Which floor are you staying on?”
Jenn blinked. She hadn’t even registered that there had been anyone else on the elevator. The woman’s slow, too-loud inquiry was a clear indicator that she thought Jenn was already inebriated.
Not yet, I’m not.
“Do you know any good bars on board?” she asked by way of reply, enunciating clearly to show her sobriety.
“Oh!” The woman was clearly taken aback. “I thought you were– That is…” the woman trailed off, not willing to finish the sentence with what she obviously thought.
Jenn simply waited, her eyes still fixed on the bank of deck buttons.
“I like the Cabana Lounge, down on Deck 8. It’s a lot smaller, better lit, and quieter than most of the others I’ve seen. They typically have a wonderful piano player who–”
“Thanks,” Jenn said, pushing the button and hoping to cut off any more helpful chatter that she wasn’t really in the mood for.
“I–” The woman broke off, clearly offended, but trying not to appear so. “You’re welcome.”
When the elevator dinged on 8, Jenn stepped out.
“I hope you have a better evening, miss!” the woman called out to her.
“You, too,” Jenn muttered.
The Cabana Lounge was everything the woman had promised. Tastefully lit, a cozy environment meant to resemble a 1920’s jazz club with lots of wood, a surprisingly-convincing electric wooden fireplace, and an abundance of red velvet.
The entire lounge was oriented around an enormous ebony grand piano. The lid on the instrument was up, sending the tinkling, melancholy melody wafting around the lounge. Jenn recognized the tune the pianist was playing, though she couldn’t name it. The pianist played it excellently. She looked, but the lid prevented her from seeing who sat at the keys. Elevator lady had been right: this was exactly what she was looking for.
Jenn easily found a small table for two (there were no singles, she noted with disappointment) at the room’s edge and sat down. Within moments, a sharply dressed waitress in a waistcoat and bowtie appeared to take her drink order.
“Whiskey. Neat.”
If the waitress was surprised, she didn’t show it.
“Will anyone else be joining you tonight?” she asked courteously.
“God, I hope not.”
The woman chuckled, the veneer slipping as she whispered, “I get it.” Louder, she said, “I’ll go get that whiskey.”
“You just charge it to the room, right?”
“That’s right,” the waitress said.
“Great! Keep ‘em coming,” Jenn grumbled.
The waitress laughed, winking and pointing a finger at Jenn conspiratorially. “You got it.”
Jenn sat back, took in a long, deep breath, and closed her eyes. When she’d let it all out, she opened her eyes just as the pianist completed their number to light applause around the bar.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Behind the keys, eyes twinkling, Casey murmured into the microphone adjusted to sit just outside of his lips.
“Thank you. You’re all very kind. This next number I hadn’t planned on doing tonight, but I think I’m going to throw it in for a very special lady who just walked in.”
The opening, soulful chords to John Legend’s “All of me” began echoing from the open grand, and a few women around the lounge cheered and whooped.
“Fuck me.” If it hadn’t been for the fact that the waitress had appeared at her elbow with her drink at that very moment, Jenn would have stood up and left. As it was, the woman grossly misinterpreted her meaning.
“I know, right? He’s new to the crew on this voyage. Honestly, he kind of seems like the total package. Everyone who’s worked with him the last few nights had nothing but good things to say.” She slid the whiskey carefully across the table to Jenn. She winked again. “Based on the fact that I think he’s talking about you, you just might get that wish.” With that, she turned and walked away, playfully saluting Casey with her wooden tray, who smiled into the microphone as he crooned.
“What’s going on in that beautiful mind?”
Casey’s eyes looked away from the waitress and locked with Jenn’s. He proceeded to hold her gaze all the way to the pre-chorus, at which point Jenn had to look away, her face and her belly both growing warm despite her wishes. She tipped the whiskey into her mouth, and it didn’t take long for the entire contents to disappear.
The burn in her literal stomach distracted somewhat from the warmth in her belly. She looked up for the waitress and, when they made eye contact, held up the empty glass meaningfully. The waitress widened her eyes with a smile, glanced meaningfully at Casey, and nodded in acknowledgment. Jenn blushed deeper and avoided looking anywhere in Casey’s direction for the rest of the song.
Jenn continued to sit and drink, although her pace slowed considerably after the first, all the way through the rest of Casey’s set. When the last sullen notes of his final number died away, he stood, straightened the waistcoat that emphasized both the size of his arms and the trim condition of his waistline, and bowed gracefully, flashing the practiced grin of an entertainer.
He walked to the bar, said a few words to the bartender and the waitress, who glanced in Jenn’s direction multiple times while grinning, then turned and walked casually to Jenn’s table. He stopped a respectful distance away, then asked, “Are you open to any company this evening?”
Jenn openly stared at him, her mind spinning with all the reasons not to say yes, and all the many reasons to say no. However, in the end, and against her better judgment, what she managed to get out was a noncommittal and articulate, “Eh.”
Casey laughed and maintained his distance. He placed his hands behind his back and bent slightly at the waist. Then, in a whisper intended only for her, Casey said, “I’m afraid I’m going to insist that you ask for it.”
A familiar flutter tickled Jenn’s already warm belly, and a tingle ran up her spine. This was dangerous water. The hurt argued angrily that this was just sharing a table, and certainly nothing more damning than what Trey had done. And that’s probably just the tip of the iceberg, the voice argued.
Jenn blinked when she realized that Casey was still bent, still smiling, still waiting for her to “ask for it.”
“Will you sit with me?” she heard herself say.
Casey’s smile widened. “I’d love to,” he said.
They sat for a moment in silence, measuring for each other up, waiting for the other to speak first.
Eventually, Jenn caved. “Look, just so you know, this is as far as this whole thing goes. I’m tired, I’ve had a really shitty day, and I’d really like to just get drunk and go back to my room alone.”
Casey studied her for a minute longer before he spoke.
“I’m truly sorry. That sucks.” He went quiet again. “Your guy friend?”
Jenn stared into the bottom of her tumbler and nodded, her throat constricting.
Casey put one hand on top of her wrist. The warmth in the gesture surprised her.
“I’m sorry.”
Jenn looked at his hands, for the first time noticing what long, strong fingers he had. A weightlifter’s hands: strong. A pianist’s hands: nimble and delicate. She couldn’t help the constriction of her pelvic muscles as she imagined what that combination could be capable of.
She shifted, placing the tumbler down with a solid clink. “Ugh! All right, condition number one, boy-o, is that you get it through your head that you are NOT coming back to my room with me, nor will I be going back to yours!” She gestured to all of him. “This whole sympathetic, artistic, hot giant thing you’ve got going? I’m not boarding that train, mmkay?”
Casey smiled and patted her hand in a grandmotherly way. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t come back to your room even if you asked me to.”
Jenn blinked and ducked her chin as if he’d struck her. “All right, well you don’t have to be a dick about it.”
He chuckled. “All I mean is that…” He studied her again. “That’s not what I’m interested in.”
Jenn’s brows furrowed. “Oh? And what is it that you’re really interested in, Mr. Casey Pianopants? Because for someone who’s not interested, you and I keep finding ourselves in each other’s company an awful lot for a big boat full of people.
Casey laughed out loud now, “Hey, you literally walked into my bar. I had nothing to do with that.”
Jenn looked at him, studying his face for any hint of what was going on behind his eyes. “True.”
Casey went quiet again, and they took another moment of mutual examination.
It was Casey who broke the silence this time.
“Will you do something with me tomorrow?”
Jenn held up her finger, and the waitress came eagerly over, her eyes flitting between the pair at the table.
“Water?” Jenn said simply.
The waitress nodded, then walked away, her high ponytail bouncing busily.
“Terribly vague, Casey. What exactly are you asking me to do with you tomorrow? I never sign a contract without reading the fine print.”
“Fair enough.” It was Casey’s turn to shift. “There’s a waterfall. It’s kind of a ‘locals-only’ kind of thing, but I’d like to show it to you, if you’d like.”
Jenn frowned slightly. “You want me to just go off into the jungle with you, alone?”
Casey backpedaled. “No, it’s not anything like that. Heck, bring your friend, if you want. What was his name, again?”
Jenn’s jaw clenched. “Trey?”
Casey nodded. “Sure! Bring Trey along. It’ll be a blast.”
Jenn inhaled deeply. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on! It’ll be a blast! Just bring him along with you.”
Jenn’s voice was hard. “I really don’t feel like being around Trey right now, Casey. If at all possible, I’d actually like to avoid him at all costs.”
Casey’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
Jenn nodded, swallowing thickly.
“Oh…” Casey stared down at the tabletop and proceeded to chew his lip nervously, as if deep in thought. Finally, after the waitress had dropped off and Jenn had finished the water in her glass, Casey started, glancing at the waitress as she walked away.
“What if April came with us?”
Jenn started. “April? Who the hell is April?”
Casey pointed with his thumb toward the departing waitress. “April. What if she came with us? Would you come see the waterfall then?”
Jenn’s mouth was an open “O” of surprise.
“What’s up with you and this waterfall?”
Casey faltered, clearly flustered. “I don’t know. It’s just supposed to be world-class, really beautiful. I’ve just always thought things like that were more enjoyable with someone to share it with.”
Jenn nodded in absent agreement. She nodded toward April, now behind the bar. “What about April? Believe me, she’s interested.”
Casey was already shaking his head. “I have a policy: never date coworkers.”
“I thought this wasn’t a date.”
“It wouldn’t be with you,” Casey countered. “With her, it would be. Alone, I mean. If she’s the third wheel…” Casey gave a thumbs up. “No mixed signals there.”
Jenn stared again, trying to figure out this enormous, beautiful, talented puzzle of a man.
“All right. If April comes, I’ll go with you to see this waterfall.”
Casey tapped his hands on the tabletop, his grin infectious. “Fantastic. I’ll meet you at the gangway, or the plank, or whatever you call the place where you get off the boat.”
“Sounds good.”
Casey patted the table once more, grinning, then stood up and walked to the bar, disappearing through a staff door leading further into the ship.
Jenn stared after him, still mildly turned on yet more than anything confused about just what Casey’s intentions toward her might be.