Authors: Jennifer Rose
“Bullshit, you leaned in and…kissed her.” The hesitation in her sentence, told me that she was far more affected by what she
thought
she saw, than she was letting on.
I rested my forehead on the door, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t kiss her. I promise I didn’t.” All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and make her stop crying.
“What do I care, it’s not like we’re together, you’re a free agent. Now go away,” she called out.
“I’ll go, but only so you’ll stop crying.” Standing back from the door with my hands in my pockets I told her, “We need to talk, sweetheart. When I get back tomorrow we’re going to talk.”
***
It sure as hell didn’t take him long to latch onto some bimbo,
I thought. The sight of him sneaking her into the elevator made my stomach churn. There was something familiar about that woman though, as if I had seen her before and if I had, chances were Gage had noticed her too.
How could Gage kiss that bitch and then turn around and call me sweetheart?
Could she have been the stalking eyes that gave me the eerie feeling all those times? When I was sure it was me being stalked, perhaps it was Gage being admired from afar. She waited in the distance for a chance to swoop in and grab her prey and low and behold I gave her the exact opportunity. He was hers for the taking.
So why did it hurt so terribly? Why did the thought of someone else warming up to him, kissing their lips to the lips I knew so well or being held tightly against his strong muscular chest, hurt so bad? It hurt so badly because I was in love with that jerk, plain and simple.
I had been warned about a man’s little brain taking over the big one. I sat and listened on many occasions while being told many a tale of woe and heartache by inconsolable friends. I’d heard it enough times to know that Gage would hurt me too. Yet here I stood with my face hanging, tear stained cheeks and depressed like a fool.
Fuck him, if she wanted him, she could have him. But I wasn’t going to sit around another minute and blubber over my tough luck. There were plenty of fish in the sea, so it was a really great thing that I just happened to be on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean at this instant.
Tomorrow morning was a new day, a new beginning I decided.
So why did my heart ache like it had been torn from my chest and stomped into the ground?
Day 21
Egypt
The usual order of coffee served in my room each day arrived right on time and Philippe greeted me with a warm good morning smile.
“Morning Philippe, how is your day going?” I asked, following him out onto the balcony, admiring his European look, all dressed in white with dark short curly hair and the hint of five o’clock shadow on his chin at this early hour.
“Very well, Miss Tandy.” It was cute the way he fit that ‘Miss’ before my name, even after I asked him to stop calling me Miss Manning, I hated formality amongst others my age.
After pouring my coffee, Philippe set the ships newsletter down beside it. I could feel his gaze and looked up in time to catch him before he looked away. He was sweet, seemed interested and this was day one of that new life I had agreed on, he was the kick start I needed.
“Are you married, Philippe?” I asked, looking into his eyes. He had pretty grey eyes I hadn’t noticed before, “Is there a significant other?”
He laughed, “No. The life of a Stateroom Steward is a lonely one.” He filled my cup with fresh brew. “I’m joking. It’s hard to have a relationship at sea.”
“I can understand that. You must have your share of dates, a girl in every port?” I blew on my hot coffee and saw Philippe eyeing my lips. “Surely you don’t sit in your quarters alone all the time?”
“No. I’m rarely without company. I get together with my colleagues quite a bit. We tend to stay below out of sight. We don’t mix with the guests very often,” he confessed, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, causing his shirt to tighten across his chest.
“Oh, is it frowned upon, you know fraternizing with guests?” I said hoping I was wrong.
“Not really. We’re free to do as we like on our own time.” I smiled when he told me and plucked up the courage to dive in for the kill.
“Maybe we could have a drink together?” I asked, feeling a bit more confident than usual. I could thank Gage for giving me that confidence, but not right now.
“I’d like that, but what about Mr. Carter? I wouldn’t want to upset him,” Philippe frowned.
I leaned forward to refill my cup but Philippe stepped in like a pro with the carafe.
“Gage is no longer part of my life. You don’t have to worry about him, he’s moved on.” He had the cup half full before I finished my reach.
“Oh?” He eyed me. “I thought you’d mend your differences by now…I guess it’s not important what I thought.” He handed me back my cup and I touched his fingers before he pulled away, a brave move I believed.
“So what do you think? Would you like to meet for drinks tonight?”
“I would,” he smiled, a bright perfectly white smile. No dimples I noted. I’d have to get this comparing him to
others
thing out of my head, if I were to survive this cruise.
“You name the place and time. You know the ship better than I do,” I pointed out, and he thought for a moment.
“Do you like to dance, Miss Tandy?” he asked, still smiling, with a little bit of wicked hiding ever so slightly behind it.
“I do, but only if you call me Tandy.”
“Tandy, how about Crooner’s Bar on the promenade deck at eight?” he suggested. I liked his suggestion and nodded.
“I will see you then.” I gave him my best I’m-not-terrified smile and put my cup to my lips to cover the tremble.
Philippe slipped away after he collected his tray and for a flash I felt guilty for looking forward to tonight. Drinks and dancing with a handsome man would take my mind off of
others
. Others I needed to put out of my mind, others that were probably on their way to Egypt with their little chippie on their arm, for so called business.
***
“Let me give you a little friendly advice Paula. Follow Manning’s orders and don’t try to cross the man, you’ll regret it. And if I see you back on the ship, I’ll inform Manning immediately. Take your money and disappear, for your own good.”
“Calm your shit, babes. I have no intentions of getting back on that boat,” she laughed, slipping her cell back into her purse, quite satisfied that the money transfer had taken place.
“As long as you disappear, that’s all I care about.” I told her as a taxi pulled up alongside the curb.
Paula opened the cars door when I made no attempt to do so. She turned and looked with what I thought could very well be a sincere expression. “I never wanted to hurt you, babes. I just got a taste for the good life and once I tasted it, there was no going back.” She admitted.
“I got over it.” I snorted with no intention of giving her the satisfaction that she had messed me up royally, wouldn’t let her think it for a minute.
“So you say. Have a good life, Gage.” she said as she climbed into the back seat. The door closed and she stared straight ahead as the car drove off.
A long sigh of relief escaped my lips as I haled a taxi. There was one more very important thing to do before going back to the ship. I was determined that tonight I would set things straight with Tandy regardless of the consequences, it was time. Well past time.
***
The evening had started off a little awkward. After all, how many women asked their Stateroom Steward’s on a date? Actually as it turned out, a lot! There was something lacking though, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
We had a few too many Martinis and talked about the ship mostly. I was very interested in the behind the scenes adventures that went on in the belly of the ship, in the wee hours while passengers slept. The juvenile antics and sexcapades that went on between the crew and female passengers had me blushing and laughing.
As it turned out my man Philippe had quite a sex life happening, he was by no means a lonely boy. He was also very happy to share his love of BDSM and told me some of the kinkier shit that he got up to. I have to tell you, some of it was a little on the scary side and there were certainly a few things that I’ll admit, had me a bit turned on.
We even had a lively discussion about vibrators and the use of. Visions leapt to mind when he told me of the many times he shared in threesomes and how he enjoyed fucking a female and or male, while he got fucked with a vibrator. He told me it had something to do with the pituitary gland and added stimulation. I sat speechless, wide eyed and mouth hanging open through most of the conversation. The man was an open book; the more alcohol added the more pages turned.
I don’t know if it was the amount of alcohol or just the way he described things, but I was having a blast and either way, I was looking at Philippe in a whole new light. My quiet Steward was quite the bi-sexual pig.
“Come dance with me?” he said, as a slow song started, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet giving me no opportunity to answer.
We were both far too intoxicated to dance properly, but at this point neither one of us gave a shit. The room was dark and only a handful of people shared the dance floor with us, too involved with their dance partners to worry what we were doing.
His warm hand at the small of my back felt familiar, like the way Gage held me when we danced, but the heat was missing, the electric spark just wasn’t there. My mind was a flurry as Philippe tightened his arm around me and pulled me in closer. He was only a few inches taller than me in heels, so his sudden erection sat happily at the junction between my thighs. He was pressed hard to my pelvic bone.
My eyebrows raised and I stiffened, I knew he could tell, because he leaned his forehead against mine and smiled. I wasn’t sure whether to panic and push him away or play it out and see what developed.
“Miss Tandy, don’t worry,” he whispered, grinding his hardness against me. “I’m not going to ask you to sleep with me. I’m just enjoying the idea, borrowing the thought, so relax.”
It was a wicked sensation and I decided to take just as much enjoyment in the moment as he was and tilted my hips forward, creating a little more friction. If anyone saw us they would have envisioned a scene in ‘Dirty Dancing’, a bit of harmless fun I figured.
“Enjoy yourself then, because I’m not going to sleep with you, even if you did ask,” I confessed and we laughed.
“You and Mr. Carter…You love him?” he asked, his voice becoming a little more raspy and breathless.
“I do.” I said, enjoying the way he was enjoying using my pelvis to draw pleasure from.
“And he loves you,” he said, not a question but a statement.
“How do you know?”
Philippe lazily acted all matter of fact, “He told me of course.” Reaching around, he grabbed onto the cheek of my ass as he adjusted his rhythm ever so slightly.
“He told me that too, so what, now we both know.” The fun was starting to ware away, the topic was fast deflating my enthusiasm.
“You should be together.” He stopped grinding and held my stare.
“What do you suggest I do about that?” My tongue was thick from drink and the words were beginning to slur.
“Well, as I see it, I’m going to go take care of this,” he said, pointing to the evident bulge in his pants making me laugh, “and this guy will take over for me here.”
Philippe looked over my shoulder and spun me around to face Gage, who wrapped his arms around my waist and stared into my incoherent eyes. I swallowed hard thinking about Gage watching Philippe grind against me, I was mortified.
“Hi,” he said softly, with a remorseful look on his face.
“Hi…Philippe and I,” I tried to put a sentence together but as it was jumbled up in my brain, it would have only come out in a garbled heap, I was happy when his finger touched my lips stifling me.
“I know,” he interrupted, without any sign of anger, he wasn’t mad at all. I was surprised, I would have been mad, if I saw some Chiquita rubbing up on him.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, pulling me closer into his hold. His hand rested at the small of my back and all I could think of was how perfect it felt.
“Uh huh,” I hummed.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered.
“Thank you.” I felt the precipitous need for a confession, any kind of confession would do at this point. “I’ve had too much to drink.”
“I know, don’t worry about it.”
“Gage?”
He tucked my hair behind my ear, “yes, sweetheart?”
“Will you hold my hair when I puke?” I whispered perhaps a little too loud. I couldn’t tell as my voice reverberated in the back of my head in a topsy-turvy mess.
“Do you feel sick, sweetheart?” He smiled that loving dimpled smile and I suddenly felt bad again for hurting him.
“Nope…but I will,” I laughed, resting my head on his chest.
“I’ll hold your hair.”
We danced slowly to several more songs and Gage stroked his hand up and down my back without a word, taking his time to enjoy the moment before he took me to my room.
He helped me into one of his t-shirts that I hadn’t packed, just to have something of his and when the moment came he held my hair as I kissed the porcelain God known as the toilet and I cried the entire time. I was a pathetic pitiful mess and Gage never left my side.
His lips touched gently against my forehead after he tucked me into bed and I had closed my eyes. I heard the door open and my heart leapt. He was leaving me.
“Gage don’t go, please don’t go?” I begged, starting to rise but regretting that move almost immediately as the room spun around and I toppled to the floor.
Gage chuckled as he lifted me back onto the bed and peeled my arms from around his neck, tucked me in again and smiled as his knuckles caressed my cheek.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” he assured me, “I promise.”