Authors: Jennifer Rose
“Not clothes are optional, you ass. I’ll be wearing pajama’s you can too,” I clarified.
“And if I told you I sleep in the buff?” He laughed.
“That would certainly be your decision to make mister,” I teased, right back imagining Gage sitting naked at the table with syrup dripping from his chin and me licking it off for him.
“You’ll find out soon enough then, see ya!” he said.
I glowed at the thought and quickly shook it out of my mind, although the thought had been a nice one.
Calling room service, I placed our order and freshened up before I heard a quiet wrap at the door. When it opened Gage was leaning in the doors frame, his dimples and blue sexy eyes looking extra delicious this glorious morning. He leaned forward and tenderly placed a kiss on my cheek. Wearing the same sweatpants as last evening and a fitted white t-shirt, he smelled of coconut and clean cotton.
“You look beautiful this morning.” His eyes perused my body from head to toe.
“Thanks, I wore my best jammies just for you.” I spun around like a model so he could get the full effect of my lime green pajama bottoms and white tank.
“Mmm…very nice,” he purred, his eyes moving to my breasts and I suddenly felt the need to cover up when I realized the whole braless thing was probably too much. I went in search of my cardigan.
“Breakfast not here yet?” Gage asked, looking round the room.
“Nope, but then it’s only been fifteen minutes or so.” I shrugged on my cardigan and saw what I could only describe as disappointment in Gage’s eyes as he watched me.
“Okay, let’s go sit on the balcony while we wait.” He grabbed me by the hand and led the way, slid the door open, pulled back the drape and escorted me out into the warm fresh air.
Gage held my chair as I sat. He insisted on answering the door and helping bring out breakfast, he even insisted on pouring my coffee and leaned over to wipe syrup from my mouth with his napkin. The attention was fantastic but so unnecessary, I was just happy to be sharing my space with him. Then it dawned on me, it was the virginity thing.
“Gage, are you being extra sweet to me this morning because I’m a virgin?” I asked, and Gage damn near choked to death on a mouthful of pancake. I guess I could have worded it a bit better than that. But I was never very good at picking the right moment or the right words.
“Jesus, Tandy where did that come from?” he muttered taking a sip of his juice and wiping his mouth.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that since the big reveal you’ve been very attentive.”
“I’m not treating you any differently than the first day we met. I don’t give a shit that you’re a virgin and it hasn’t changed how I feel about you, sweetheart. Maybe you’re a little sensitive since your revelation.”
“Maybe your right…Change of subject, what’s Gage short for?” I asked, popping a piece of fluffy divine pancake into my mouth.
He shrugged. “Gage.”
“That’s it? I thought it was a short form, like Gabe is for Gabriel, you know?”
“Nope just Gage,” he said and topped up our coffee from the carafe Philippe had left on the trolley to his side.
“What’s Tandy short for?” Gage asked, pushing aside his plate and leaning forward on his elbows to listen.
“Let’s not go there.” I didn’t want him to know my real name, fuck, if he ever used it I’d die. “Gage what?”
He latched onto my forearm and grinned. “No way, I want an answer. You’ve caught my interest and I’m not giving up till I get one. I can’t think of what it would be short for.”
He wasn’t going to give it up until I was good and embarrassed. I remembered the ridicule and endless teasing when I was in grade school. The tears I cried when the little girls refused to play with me, shoving me into the boy’s room on too many occasions to recollect and lonely lunches spent isolated because I didn’t fit into the norm.
“I’ll tell on one condition.” I held up my index finger and tilted my head with my brows raised.
“Name it.”
I held my fork to the back of his hand. “You never and I mean never call me by my real name, promise me.”
“Promise,” he made a fist with his free hand and put out his pinkie winking with a smile and I slapped it away, the stupid ass.
“Andrew. Now tell me Gage what?” I asked again, watching the scowl on his face as his eyes narrowed and he was looking at me in question. Surely he thought I was full of shit, most people did when they found out my name.
“Andrew? Seriously, what is it short for?”
“Andrew…My father never wanted girls. My mother insisted everyone call me Tandy, it’s the diminutive of Andrew. My sister’s name is Alexander. I also have two brothers, Caleb and Ryan” I rambled on, “I hate my name, despised my father for picking such masculine names for us girls and the fact that my mother let him.”
“Carter,” he said, still clearly mesmerized by my name, but after seeing my discomfort chose to brush it aside. I was grateful.
I pondered the name. “Carter? Gage Carter…My father’s business partner’s name was Carter, Drake Carter. He was the nicest man, he used to take me to the park when he came to town for meetings, we’d feed the ducks.”
Gage stared blankly at his plate as he listened to me rant on.
“He died though, he was very sick.” We sat in sudden quietness. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” he said. “What are your plans for today?”
“Not too sure yet, what are you going to do?” I asked, clutching at the prospect that I could tag along.
“Probably a little rock climbing, get some exercise.” He said and I grimaced, wrinkling my nose in disgust.
“Yuck, that sounds exciting. You’ll have no worries about seeing me there. I don’t do the exercise thing on holidays, you can’t make me.” I crossed my arms over my chest in a defiant gesture and stood my ground.
“You’d be surprised what I could make you do, sweetheart.” he said, slow and articulate, his steely eyes fixed on me with a single raised brow.
My stomach fluttered and I had to swallow back the images that ran through my head when he said those words. I felt the heat increase between my thighs and had to excuse myself to get my wits about me. In the washroom I took several deep breaths and splashed water on my face, before returning to the table.
“I’m going to go. Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you around?” Gage was up and at the door waiting for me to catch up.
“Think I’ll hit the casino, lose a few bucks. You have fun maybe I’ll see you at dinner.” The idea of losing more money didn’t thrill me, but occupying my time with something other than Gage was necessary.
“Sounds great I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
In the doorway, Gage stopped and turned to give me a peck on the cheek, this time I returned it and he smiled walking down the hall. I closed the door and ran to the shower, I needed one bad, a good cold one.
***
As it turned out, I
did not
see Gage at dinner that evening. I spent it with the honeymoon couple in silence. I established that unless I knew I would have company at the table in the form of Gage, I was going to avoid the dining room all together. The lip locked couple drew unwanted attention with drifting hands and inappropriate moans, as I sat there smiling awkwardly to passersby and wasted most of my meal as a result, abandoning it half way through and heading for the exit.
I couldn’t help but wonder what Gage had done today and whether or not alone, a selfish thought, but my thoughts were after all, my own. I have to admit I did spend a lot more time than I should have at that dining table, in hopes that Gage would show and I could talk him into doing something together.
Set on seeing a show tonight, I had donned a pretty tan cocktail dress and pulled my hair into a lose ponytail at the nape of my neck with a cornflower hairband. Dressy, but not overly, the newsletter said dressy-casual, so I figured I’d chosen well. A dash of makeup and pink lip-gloss were the finishing touch, along with a spritz of Roberto Cavali that I never went without, my favorite designer fragrance.
I sat at a table for two off to the side and a fair distance back from the stage, ordered a banana berry margarita and looked around as I sipped the pleasing concoction.
The show started, like something straight out of Vegas, pure sex and glitter. Women dressed, but not so dressed, giving the illusion of a lot of flesh. In feathers and rhinestones, all flashy like Bob Mackie had designed them himself, they stepped out onto the stage and started to dance, elegantly and gracefully to the fast-paced beat.
Laser lights streaking across the room, disco lights emanating sparkles on every surface and showgirls and boys dressed in glamorous beyond sequined gowns and tuxedos adorned the stage area and started to sing. The staircase they came down looked like it was encrusted in diamonds with an arch of lights spanning across from one side to the other.
The music was a mix of modern day, with show tunes and works by various artists. I recognized songs by Celine Dion and Sara Evans, a little Rod Stewart and even the odd Sinatra tune slipped in for good measure.
Enjoying the musical excitement of the show, I hummed and danced in my seat to the beat as did nearly the entire audience and I polished off at least four drinks while doing so. I promised myself I was going to do this again, several more times during the cruise. I was having such a good time.
The finale started with a salute to Broadway and each singer and dancer adorned a different gown or tuxedo as they moved up and down the staircase, it was like a fashion show of glitz and glamour, a real spectacle to see.
“Hello.” A tall dark haired gentleman stood at the side of the table smiling and leaned in when I didn’t respond with an answer right away.
“Would you mind if I joined you? I’d like to buy you a drink,” he said, as he pulled out the empty seat and waited.
“That would be nice, thank you. Please sit.” I gestured to the seat that he had already occupied and I smiled.
The waitress came over and the stranger pointed to my glass. “Another?”
“Please.” And the waitress smiled happily and walked away after the gentleman ordered a rum and Coke.
Our drinks came and we clinked our glasses together enjoying the remainder of the show. When it came to an end the lights brightened a bit, still leaving it a touch on the dim side, enabling me to get a good look at him.
He was a nice looking man, a sharp dresser in a black Prada suit with a soft pink shirt and thin black tie. A slight touch of grey at the temples of his brown soft looking hair made him appear older than I was sure he was, with rimless glasses framing his pretty green eyes, green like my own I observed. He had a nice smile and beautifully manicured hands I noted, when he raised his glass to his mouth and took a sip.
“My name’s Tandy, nice to meet you,” I waited for a response.
“I’m sorry, John. John Martin.” He offered his hand and I shook it. He seemed really nice.
“Enjoying the cruise so far?” I asked, leaning forward a touch so I could hear his soft voice over the din of the crowd.
“So far I am and you?” he asked, raising his voice slightly when he saw that I was struggling to hear him.
“I am, very much so.”
“Are you traveling alone?” he asked, a red light flashing in the back of my mind. Do I tell him yes or do I lie and say no, tell him I’m single or traveling with a boyfriend or fiancé?
I’d been trained early on as a child not to reveal too much to strangers, the fear of a possible kidnapping always a risk and there was always someone out there, willing to give it a shot. My father’s money had a tendency to cloud people’s judgment; they’d do some pretty evil things for a buck.
But this guy looked basically harmless; still it was probably for the best not to set myself up. “I’m sharing a cabin with a friend.”
“Same here, well not really a friend, my brother. He had other plans tonight, met someone while we were boarding and you know…here I am, alone.” He stretched out his arms to emphasize the fact and I had to laugh. He was funny, had a comical personality and I found myself comfortable in his company.
I loosened up quite a bit and listened to delightful stories he told, about the fact that both he and his brother were widowers and they spent most of their time on cruises and traveling the world, this being their first world cruise. I told him how I was taking time away from work, exploring my options in the glamorous world of law firms in New York and he cringed at the thought and we laughed.
He had me nearly peeing my pants as he shared the highjinx that they got into in foreign countries and the far too close encounters with police and jail cells. He told tales of narrow escapes from overzealous women vying for passage to America and waking far too often from a night of drunken partying in the arms of Asian hookers and prostitutes.
“Sounds like you boys are a pair of bad-asses,” I laughed, holding my ribs and finishing the last of my drink.
“Would you like another, honey?” he asked, and when I hesitated he put on a wacky pout and I caved.
I held up one finger and smiled. “One more and then I have to go.” I was having fun, real fun and there was absolutely no threat of attack or kidnapping and no sexual nothing. It was just two people having a few drinks together and enjoying each other’s company.
Fresh drinks and a bowl of popcorn awaited me upon my return. John had removed his jacket and slackened off his tie. I sat and pulled my hair free of the hairband and tousled it about. If it was time to let loose, I was all in.
“You know what I do for a living, what do you do, John?” I asked, sucking back some more of my fruity drink.
“I write, I guess you’d say I’m an author,” he laughed and clenched his jaw revealing bright white teeth, like it was a shock. It seemed silly because I didn’t grasp what could be so funny about that. I’m sure Hemingway and Dickens didn’t laugh about their writings.
“What do you write? Would I know any of your work?”
“Looking at you I’d say…maybe you might,” he leaned in close and whispered not so quietly, “I write erotic romance.” Holding up his glass in a cheers gesture, he took a swig grinning like the cat-that-ate-the-canary.