Authors: Phoebe Conn
He pushed back the partition, rolled the breakfast cart up to the bed and placed the silver tray in her lap. “I thought the french toast with blueberries sounded good, but there are muffins, eggs, grapefruit, tea. Is there anything else you’d like?”
“You’re like a genie, Alejandro.”
“Thank you. Rub me anytime,” he teased.
She licked her lips. “You’re supposed to rub the lamp, not the genie, but I’ll look forward to it. Sit down with me. Have you already eaten?”
He circled the bed to sit down beside her and waited for her to start on the french toast before he tasted the scrambled eggs. “I had to make certain the breakfast was up to the Ortiz standard, so I’ve already sampled it all.”
The thick french toast was dusted with powdered sugar, and the maple syrup was warm. “This is so good, but I never eat this much for breakfast. You’ll have to help me finish.”
He poured her a cup of tea. “You could stand to gain a few pounds.”
“True, but not all in one sitting.” A firm knock at the door jarred them both. “Did you order something more?” she asked.
“No, I’ll get it.” He rolled off the bed and eased the partition closed before going to the door.
A steward addressed him with a slight nod. “Good morning, Mr. Vasquez. Captain Reyes says there’s a message for you, and he asks that you come to the bridge.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“No, sir. He told me it’s urgent.”
“I’ll be right back,” he called to Ana and left with the steward.
Ana was curious but not alarmed and swished another bite of french toast in the puddle of syrup pooling on her plate. It was almost too sweet, but she chewed each bite slowly to savor every single morsel. When Alejandro returned and pushed open the partition, his dark expression told her something was very wrong. “What’s happened that they had to call you?”
“My father’s suffered a massive stroke. My stepmother couldn’t wake him this morning, and he was rushed to the hospital. His doctor doesn’t expect him to survive the day. A helicopter is coming for me. I hate to leave you again, but you’ll be more comfortable here. I’ll make travel arrangements for you just as soon as I can. Although you needn’t be caught in the mess if my father dies.”
Shocked that he’d dismiss her so easily, she struggled to remain calm. “Mess? Is that how you’d regard it?”
“My father runs a huge corporation. If he dies, the stock value will drop and…”
She rested her fork on her plate. “That’s your only concern, the stock value?”
“We weren’t close for a good reason, Ana. I won’t pretend to be devastated if we lose him. Start planning for our wedding. You must have a favorite designer who’d love to make your dress.”
She drew in a deep breath, but his sudden change in subject was difficult to grasp. “I’ll think about it.” She didn’t utter another word as he packed up a few things and left her with only a maple-syrup-flavored kiss.
Chapter Fifteen
The ship’s library was larger than she’d expected and had an old-world charm with oak bookcases and comfortable leather armchairs and hassocks where she could prop her legs. She took a book from the mystery section, eased herself into a chair, then let Maria move the wheelchair out of the way and go. A young man in a dark suit soon joined her.
“I’m Edwardo Mendoza, the librarian. Please let me know if there’s anything you need.”
She raised her book. “Is this any good?”
He frowned as though he hated to offer an opinion. “It’s not a book you’d keep forever, but for a quick shipboard read, it’s good enough.”
She handed it to him. “I need something more involving, riveting, if you have one.” She raised her skirt hem to show off her cast. “The most active thing I can do is read, so I need something really, really good.”
He pursed his lips. “Have you read R.J. Ellory’s
A Quiet Belief in Angels
?”
“No, is it good?”
“It’s one of my favorites. It’s beautifully written, and you won’t guess who did it until the very end.” He brought her a copy. “Let me know when you’d like something to eat or drink.”
“After the breakfast I had, I won’t have to eat for days, but a cup of tea would be wonderful.”
“Give me a moment.”
He disappeared behind the desk and soon returned with hot water in a white teapot decorated with the Ortiz Line insignia and a wooden box filled with a wide variety of teas. He poured hot water into a pretty china cup, set it on the table beside her and waited for her to select a tea. “Ah yes, the orange spice is particularly good.”
“Thank you. I’m not used to being waited on so attentively. Please don’t let me distract you from whatever you usually do.”
He closed the box. “I keep the library neat, order new books, and offer suggestions to anyone requesting them. I have plenty of time to read, so in my view, this is the best job on the ship.”
He left her to read, and from the first page she was hooked. She didn’t look up until Maria returned and suggested she might enjoy going to the tearoom for tea. “Is it afternoon already?” She glanced at her watch and discovered it was already past three. She’d brought her cell phone with her but hadn’t heard from Alejandro. She supposed there was nothing to say, or he would have called long before now. Her world had changed so quickly, and if he lost his father, his would too. She’d continue being a loving wife, although that didn’t seem like it would be nearly enough. “All right, tea sounds lovely. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Mendoza.”
“Take your book. You’ll want to read more tonight,” he suggested.
“Do you need my cabin number?”
He walked ahead of them to open the door. “I know who you are, Miss Santillan.”
She thanked him but felt very foolish. Many people recognized her, while a great many didn’t, but his smile had been friendly rather than condescending.
The tearoom was beautifully decorated to look as though it had been plucked from a small town in the English countryside. The furnishings were delicate, all in white and blue, and the air was scented with cinnamon and cloves. Maria rolled her to a small round marble-topped table and said she’d wait for her outside. Ana had just picked up the menu when Linda Suarez appeared.
“Are you all alone?” the psychologist asked. “Where’s that gorgeous husband of yours?”
“He was called away.” He hadn’t warned her not to mention his father’s health crisis to avoid a stock market catastrophe, but she knew better than to provide any such intimate news. Linda would have no idea who Alejandro’s father was, but she still wouldn’t confide in her. “Would you like to join me?”
“Yes, thank you.” Linda’s navy blue slacks and seductively loose navy blue sweater complemented her curvy figure. She sat and rested her arms on the table. “Do you mean ‘called away’ like off the ship?”
“Yes. I’m ordering the little sandwiches. Do you want to order something sweet, and we can share?”
Linda glanced at the narrow menu card. “I’d like the fruit tarts.”
Their waitress’s dark curls were topped with a ruffled cap. “Let me bring you a pot of the lemon zest tea. It will brighten your afternoon.”
“Thank you. I ran around the deck this morning and worked out in the gym, so a few fruit tarts won’t hurt me. How do you manage to stay so slim?”
After questions about her hair, fans always wanted to know how she maintained her weight. “I’m nearly six feet tall, so I burn more calories than most women, and I prefer vegetarian fare.”
“I’ve heard vegetables are the key, but can’t give up bacon. Is your husband going to rejoin you soon?”
“He may.” Ana sat back as the waitress appeared with their order and poured their tea. Linda was too inquisitive for her tastes, and she was sorry she’d have to see her later at dinner. The tea had a definite zing, which she surely needed. She took a bite of a tiny watercress sandwich. “These are good.”
“Everything on board the ship is good,” Linda replied. “I expected the captain to be somewhat older. Not that I’m complaining.”
A woman and her little girl approached their table. “My daughter insists you’re Ana Santillan, but I wasn’t sure.”
Ana smiled at them. “Yes, I am.” She pulled the small notebook from her purse and tore out a page. “I’ll write you an autograph. What’s your name?”
“Julie.” Her eyes grew wide as she watched Ana write. “You’re so pretty. You ought to have dolls like Barbie.”
“Thank you so much. You’re very pretty too.” She waited for the pair to return to their table before taking another bite.
“Does that happen often?” Linda asked.
“Yes, but I don’t mind.”
Linda edged one of her fruit tarts onto Ana’s plate. “Was it difficult to get used to?”
“I’ve modeled most of my life, so it’s what I know.” She took a couple of bites of the fruit tart, and it was so good she finished it. “I didn’t realize how tired I was when I came in. Will you excuse me, Linda? I need to go back to my room.” She rolled her chair to the foyer where Maria met her. Even without looking back, she could feel Linda watching her. When she reached their cabin, she checked her cell phone, but Alejandro hadn’t called. Maybe his father was clinging to life after all.
Gabriel Reyes came to her cabin to escort her to dinner. She’d put on the long black sheath and shawl she’d almost worn for a Goth girl dinner with Alejandro. Tonight, the somber outfit suited her mood perfectly.
“Thank you, but you needn’t come for me yourself, Captain.”
“Humor me, Mrs. Vasquez. We have an especially fine dinner planned for tonight, and I wanted to make certain you’d be there.”
“Are you always this enthusiastic?”
“I’m happy to be of service to you, but general enthusiasm is part of my job. We’ll be passing through a storm later and my presence tonight will reassure everyone they’re in no danger.”
“Is it the truth?”
“Yes, it is. The
Mediterranean Siren
is a beautifully engineered and constructed ship, all the Ortiz ships are. I’m sorry our dinner company isn’t more exciting.”
They were the last to be seated at his table. Linda Suarez looked between them and frowned, but Ana had no romantic interest in the captain, and obviously, Linda did. Ana smiled and greeted everyone. The table linens last night had been a near eye-blistering white. Tonight, they were the heavenly blue of the Ortiz Line logo and the centerpieces were filled with bouquets of fragrant white carnations with accents of blue.
“How pretty everything is,” Ana exclaimed.
The dentists nodded and smiled. The Lopezes agreed and hugged each other. “Where is your husband?” Joseph Lopez asked.
“He was called away,” Ana replied. “I spent most of the day in the library reading. What did everyone else do?” She was relieved when the others recounted their day. They were served a delicious sherried onion soup with saffron topped with sliced almonds and parsley, and she concentrated on swallowing with silent sips.
Memo Talleda looked up from his bowl. “How could your husband have been called away? Isn’t he still on board?”
The captain answered before Ana could. “We arranged for a helicopter. Now tell me if the lamb isn’t the best you’d ever tasted.”
Linda thought the roasted lamb with red onion salsa looked incredibly good and took note as Ana was served menestra, a dish of spring vegetables. “Is the vegetarian food good?”
“Scrumptious,” Ana replied, but by the time everyone finished the sorbete de limon for dessert, she was thoroughly tired of her dinner companions.
The captain rolled her chair away from the table, but when the others had left, he turned her wheelchair around and pulled up to the closest chair. “Give me a minute please, Mrs. Vasquez. Your husband told me he wanted the wedding we’d planned for tomorrow to be a legal ceremony he could register, because you couldn’t recall your first wedding.”
“Without a groom, there won’t be any need for one tomorrow.”
“I realize that.” He looked away briefly. “I don’t want to make trouble for you or Alejandro. Please believe me. He said you’d been married in a civil ceremony. Do you know when and where?”
“Some courthouse in Barcelona, I suppose. It had to have been last week, Thursday or Friday, but I’m not sure of the date. Why do you ask?”
“After couples marry, there’s a legal requirement to register the wedding at the Civil Registry. It was just curiosity that made me go online to search for the details of your wedding so you’d know them, but I couldn’t find any record of a marriage between you and Alejandro Ortiz y Vasquez.”
His expression was dead serious, lacking any hint of his usual charm. “Maybe there’s a backlog, and our wedding hasn’t been posted yet,” she suggested.
“This week’s are already posted and those from last week are readily available. Yours simply isn’t among them.”
After the speed with which Alejandro had left her that morning, discussing their marriage held no appeal, and she laced her fingers in her lap. “What are you suggesting, that we aren’t married?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just remarking on the fact there’s no record of your wedding. Alejandro may have told you you’d married him, but do you have another source, or any evidence that you actually did?”