Keeping Watch
‘Can I help you with anything?’
‘Why, yes, I’m wanting to buy a gift.’
Meanwhile, lower down the ship, on the fifth deck dedicated to designer retail shopping, Dennis, the sales manager of Fine Jewellery and Luxury Watches, was gliding over to the couple who were bent over an illuminated glass case filled with some of their premium timepieces.
Arms around each other, giggling and whispering, they’d been browsing under his watchful eye for the past few minutes.
Years of experience had taught Dennis that was the trick to a successful sale.
Give the customer some space to fall in love with a piece of jewellery or expensive watch, to fantasize about how they’ll style their hair to show off that pair of stunning six-carat, pavé-set diamond earrings to their girlfriends, or to imagine surreptitiously flicking their wrist to reveal their designer timepiece at their next business meeting.
As a sales manager, you needed to know when to pounce. Ask too early and you could frighten them off. Leave it too late and you risked them being distracted or, worse, snapping out of Cruise Mode, a hypnotic state where real life and money no longer mattered.
Like most things in life, it was all about timing.
He swooped in. ‘Is it for someone special?’
‘I’d say he’s kinda special. What do you think, Louis, are you special?’ cooed the glamorous older woman.
‘Not as special as you, Birdy,’ flirted her middle-aged toyboy.
Dennis didn’t blink. Working on cruises for the past twenty years, he’d seen couples in so many different shapes and sizes.
There was the man whose wife had died enroute to the Caribbean and the woman who comforted him.
He’d bought her a diamond bracelet. The divorcée who’d found love at the singles party and treated him to a luxury watch.
The ninety-something widow who chose to live on a cruise ship instead of a retirement home and changed her suitor as often as her sparkly evening gown. She always bought cufflinks.
The high seas did something to people. Show them an open stretch of water and as soon as dry land disappeared so did their inhibitions.
People came on board looking for love. It was almost like a dating app.
He’d seen so many relationships blossom – some led to marriages, others only lasted as long as the cruise.
But he wasn’t here to judge; he was here to sell them precious jewellery and luxury watches.
Dennis cleared his throat.
‘Would madam like to see anything in particular?’
‘Please, call me Birdy,’ she said in her distinctive Southern drawl. ‘Madam makes me sound like the owner of a brothel.’
She let out a loud cackle of laughter and beamed at Dennis, who felt himself blush.
‘Birdy, what are you like?’ Her toyboy pretended to reprimand her with a kiss. ‘You’re embarrassing him.’
‘Oh, sir, I’m sorry, don’t mind me, I’m only teasing.’
Dennis smiled graciously. He liked this loud American woman, with her flamboyant clothes and mischievous grin. He’d served plenty of Americans in his time. They were often loud but always friendly and polite, not to mention extremely generous tippers. They understood the value of good service.
‘See what I’ve got to put up with?’ quipped The Toyboy and winked at him.
Dennis smiled tightly. The boyfriend, however, he didn’t like.
Handsome, charming, and a total player. He knew his type.
He’d encountered so many of these shady characters.
Con artists, swindlers, heartbreakers. They came on board looking to take advantage of an older woman, or sometimes an older man.
Someone vulnerable or lonely or looking for affection.
Pretending to be in love with them when all they were in love with was their money.
He might be able to fool her, but he couldn’t fool him.
Dennis had been married thirty years and raised two sons and a daughter.
His family lived in the Philippines where he sent his wage each month.
He’d made a good living but he was ready to retire soon.
He loved his wife and was looking forward to being with her, though he worried about leaving the ship.
He’d lived his whole life on the seas, going to sleep each night in one place and waking up in another every day.
It was in his blood now. What if he couldn’t settle?
What if he lost a part of himself? Without the cruise ship and its passengers, who was he?
‘We’re interested in one of your watches,’ continued Birdy, tapping a long red fingernail on the glass counter. ‘A Rolex.’
‘Of course.’ Dennis went to open the case.
‘Sweetheart, please, it’s too much,’ protested The Toyboy. ‘I couldn’t possibly accept such a gift.’
It was all Dennis could do not to roll his eyes. If he had a duty-free dollar for every time he’d heard that, he’d be a millionaire and buying his own designer watches, not selling them.
‘Nonsense.’ Birdy swatted him away playfully. ‘Nothing is ever too much. It’s my treat.’
‘Oh, Birdy, I’m so lucky to have met you.’
‘Oh, Louis, the luck is all mine.’
‘Is there a particular model you’re interested in?’ Wearing his white dust gloves, Dennis turned to them both, his eyebrows raised.
‘Well, if you insist, I rather like the Submariner,’ said The Toyboy.
Of course you do, thought Dennis. Only one of the most expensive.
‘Me too!’ Birdy clapped her hands together gleefully. ‘Great minds think alike!’
Carefully removing the timepiece from the cabinet, Dennis went to place it on The Toyboy’s wrist, but he was already wearing a watch. ‘If you’d like to remove your current watch, sir.’
‘Oh yes, of course.’ He began unfastening the leather strap.
‘Here, give it to me, honey,’ beamed Birdy, slipping it into her handbag.
Dennis slipped the watch onto his wrist and carefully fastened the clasp. It made a satisfying click. The Toyboy raised his sleeve, turning his wrist back and forth, a smug, self-satisfied smile on his face.
‘So what do you think?’
Turning to Birdy and Dennis, he affected the expression of a man unsure and in need of approval.
‘It’s stunning!’ she enthused.
‘It’s one of our most prized timepieces and a true classic.’ Dennis nodded reverently.
‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s so much money.’ He shook his head. ‘Perhaps we should wait, go shopping tomorrow when the ship stops in Tangier—’
But Dennis quickly interrupted. ‘Please, sir, I must warn you. Be very careful of fakes.’
‘Fakes?’ Birdy looked shocked and clutched her Louis Vuitton handbag to her surgically enhanced chest.
‘Absolutely, madam. They have some excellent forgeries. Only an official dealer would be able to tell the difference. Many of our passengers have been tricked by what they thought was a genuine luxury watch only to be left severely out of pocket and very disappointed.’
‘Well, that’s decided.’ Birdy shook her head firmly. ‘We must buy you a watch here.’
‘We must?’ The Toyboy tried not to look too elated.
‘It’s perfect for all those important meetings you have to attend with your AI technology business you’ve been telling me about.’
‘It’s a wonderful choice, sir.’
‘And it totally gives the right impression for any new and potential investors,’ continued Birdy, looking at him with a glow of pure pride. ‘Of which I am now one.’
‘You are?’ The Toyboy swung around, his face lit up. ‘You said you were thinking about it, but I had no idea!’
‘Well, I’ve thought about it and the question I keep asking myself is, what’s the point of being an heiress if you don’t do something with your fortune?
Of course there are worthy charities to donate to and godchildren to indulge, but surely an heiress is allowed a little happiness of her own .
. .’ She broke off, her eyes downcast, and gave a flutter of her new lash extensions.
‘So yes, in answer to your question, I’m ready to invest . . .’
‘. . . and not just in my business, but in our future,’ finished The Toyboy pointedly.
And then, seemingly both overcome with emotion, they clasped each other’s hands and stared at each other, like Love’s Young Dream, for what felt like an age, while Dennis shifted on his soft-soled shoes and tried not to think about how many years’ salary it would take to afford the Rolex on the other man’s wrist. Or how many months this affair was going to last before The Toyboy and his new Rolex moved on to pastures new.
Or how much longer before he could take his lunch downstairs in the crew’s Mess. He was watching his weight, so perhaps something from the salad buffet.
‘So, have you come to any decisions?’ asked Dennis, diplomatically.
His salary was commission-based so he was eager to make the sale, but he didn’t want to appear pushy.
Pushy was the kiss of death for retail. ‘Just so you are aware, there is usually a waiting list for this particular model, but today you are in luck.’
Gentle persuasion and a little FOMO worked so much better.
With one arm still around The Rich American Heiress, The Toyboy admired his reflection in the mirror, sweeping the hair from his temples and holding his wrist to his face as if he was in a watch commercial, while she gazed on adoringly.
‘I love it. And you,’ he whispered.
‘We’ll take it!’ she declared.
‘Wonderful,’ smiled Dennis.
Forget the salad buffet. Today he would have the fillet steak.