“I don’t have an assignment,” she cut in with a shaky voice. “I came on this trip because I knew you would be here. Darren told me you were doing something for him and I wanted to see you. He told me he’d invited you for Christmas.” She paused. “He’s lonely.”
“I know.” Darren was a family man at heart although he’d never admit how much his wife’s absence ran deep. He thrived around people and Michael knew his friend was suited to be a husband and father.
“I thought you might be lonely too,” Joy said.
“I’m not Darren.”
“That’s true, but that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be alone.”
Michael sighed, saddened by her misery. They had had fun in the past and he did care about her. He smiled with boyish affection. “You’re too good for me.”
Joy angrily wiped her tears away. “I don’t care.”
“You’re beautiful and smart—”
“But I’m not twenty-nine anymore,” she interrupted bitterly.
His expression hardened. “That’s not it.”
“Yes, it is. You’re blinded by Arlene’s youth and her perky little body and that she laughs at your jokes and—”
“No,” he cruelly cut in. “I’m blinded by the fact that she ran barefoot to reach me after my accident, that she kept me company when I was in pain, that she spent her money buying Vitamin E oil to put on my scars.” His eyes blazed into hers. “Don’t insult me or yourself by implying I’m suffering from some midlife crisis. You know me better than that.”
Joy lowered her eyes and smiled sadly. “Yes, but it’s easier to believe.”
Michael cooled his temper and kissed her on the forehead. “I know,” he said, resting his arm on her shoulders like a big brother.
Joy was quiet then asked, “What are you going to do about The Shark?”
“I’ll come up with a plan.”
“You don’t have much time. St. Lagans is our next island stop.”
Noreen stood motionless, trying to keep her heart from breaking as she watched Michael on the deck
with the woman from the party. The Princess (as she’d nicknamed her) was striking in a full-length, bare-back, off-the-shoulder satin dress. Her shoulder-length, light brown hair with blond highlights was pulled up into an elegant chignon, and tiny white pearl earrings sparkled from her ears. She was stunning and she touched Michael in a familiar way that surprised Noreen. There was an intimacy there. Then she kissed him. He quickly moved away and the woman looked clearly upset.
Noreen watched the scene, trying to understand what it meant. Did they know each other? Had he led her on? The Princess clearly had feelings for him.
It had to be an innocent misunderstanding. He wouldn’t tell her to run away with him and then be with another woman, right? But why was he with her instead of in his cabin? Was she the “business” he had to take care of? Had she already bored him? Perhaps her refusal had ruined his sense of play. Arlene would have said yes. But that’s all they had been doing. Playing. It wasn’t anything of substance.
“I told you to watch out.”
Noreen spun around and saw the same man from the ballroom.
“It’s not smart to fall for anyone on a cruise,” he said. “Shipboard romances never last.”
“Who
are
you?”
He held out his hand. “Mr. Smith.”
She ignored his hand. “Mr. Smith? That’s the best you could come up with?”
He frowned. “It’s my real name.”
“Is your first name John?”
“No, but you don’t need to know it.” He nodded toward Michael. “I bet you he’s a cruise crawler and leaves a lot of broken hearts.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Has he already been in your cabin?” He nodded at her expression. “That’s what I thought. He got what he wanted and you lost your usefulness. At least you still have the package.”
“How do you know?” His blank expression infuriated her. “You searched my cabin?”
He shrugged.
“Why don’t you just hand it to Erickson, if you don’t trust me?”
“That’s not how things work with Erickson.”
She knew what he meant. Her uncle had worked the same way; he liked to have at least three people between him and what he wanted. But it didn’t make sense for such behavior for a simple antique ring.
“How you spend your time is none of my business. I only report to Erickson. And I trust you because you’re smart, but I don’t trust him,” he said, glancing at Michael again. “There’s something about that guy that makes me edgy. You don’t have to agree, but we both know one thing.” He raised a knowing eyebrow. “You’re going to bed alone tonight.” He motioned to the couple and Michael had his arm around the lady’s shoulders. Mr. Smith looked at Noreen then walked past her.
Noreen didn’t move, but she glanced away, no longer able to look at the pair while Mr. Smith’s words echoed in her ears. Who was he really? Why did he keep bothering her? Erickson’s behavior was eerily similar
to her uncle’s, but her uncle had stopped working this kind of operation, last she heard. And why was Michael with that woman? Noreen ran to her cabin and fell on the bed in tears. Arlene had attracted another user. She squeezed her eyes closed. No, Michael wasn’t a user. She didn’t believe it. She’d been around her brothers and father, so she could spot one. No. What broke her heart was that as “Arlene” she’d attracted a man she could never have. Seeing Michael with The Princess only reinforced that he liked flashy, stylish women. He’d never look at Noreen. He’d treat her the same way Clyde did. She couldn’t blame him for wanting The Princess. They made an attractive couple.
Today she’d felt the weight of Michael’s disappointment when she’d said no to his offer. He would have had dinner alone if she hadn’t suggested they eat together. She’d lost her charm. Maybe Mr. Smith was right and he toyed with women like her father and brothers did. Perhaps he had a dozen Saint Christopher medals that he gave to women. He had admitted that he knew the island. What if this is what he did all the time? Maybe he called her “Angel” because he couldn’t remember her name, the same way her brothers called every woman “baby.”
She was a fool. Noreen sat up and wiped her eyes. A contact popped out and she fumbled on the bed, trying to find it, keeping her “good eye” open. When she finally felt it she shook her head, glad it was disposable. Fine, she was a fool but that didn’t mean she had to be one for the rest of the trip. She’d use this experience and include it in her next book. She took out her other
contact and put on her glasses. Time with Michael had already provided her many ideas so at least their time together had been beneficial.
Noreen changed into something more comfortable. At home that would have consisted of sweats, but because she was Arlene she wore a light blue silk loungewear set. Her sister never dressed down. Even when they were children, Arlene hated to get dirty while Noreen loved playing outside in the grass.
Noreen sat at her side table and wrote in her journal. In her manuscript she had her heroine write a love letter. Adrienne, her heroine, was a character who had trouble expressing her emotions, and Noreen knew this would be a good way to add passion to the story. She knew it was old-fashioned, but for a character who spent most of her time distant from people, using mostly texting and email to communicate, a handwritten letter would be a more intimate and revealing activity. Something the hero could hold on to.
Noreen allowed herself to be Adrienne and imagined writing to the hero as if he were Michael and their relationship had been something more.
My dearest,
It took me three hours to decide to write you this letter, but the silence over the last few days has been torturous. Sometimes I hate you because I want you so much. I miss you. You are the first thought that enters my mind in the morning and the last thought before I go to sleep. You haunt my dreams and I know there is no cure for how I feel
about you. I want to be with you always. I love you. I need you and I want you in my life. Love, A
After she’d finished, Noreen took off her glasses and rested her head back. She imagined the letter in print, and pictured a possible cover. Perhaps it could have a fountain pen and parchment paper with a red rose. Maybe she could incorporate more letters throughout the manuscript and include another love affair. Or she could also have Adrienne send him perfume-scented note cards that she’d slide under his door or slip in his mail or tape to his car’s windshield. Yes, that was it. Feeling rejuvenated, Noreen decided to call room service and ordered a pot of coffee then started on another love letter.
A knock on the door interrupted her. Noreen scowled, annoyed by the interruption then she remembered the coffee she’d ordered. She left her glasses on the table and opened the door. She saw a large blurry figure without a tray.
“What happened?” the figure asked in Michael’s voice.
Michael?
He wasn’t supposed to be there. Noreen opened her mouth then closed it. She didn’t know what to say to him so she did the first thing that came to mind. She slammed the door shut.
“
W
hat the—Angel, open up.”
Noreen leaned against the door, trying to figure out what to do next. “Just a minute,” she said. She had to hide her glasses and put in her contacts.
He pounded harder. “Angel!”
“Just a second.” Noreen raced over to her desk and grabbed her glasses and hid them in their case, which she usually kept in the bathroom. She quickly gathered up her papers and shoved them into her journal.
“I’m going to break down this door if you don’t open it up.”
He would. Noreen swore. She didn’t have enough time to put in her contacts. She opened the door.
Michael stormed into the room. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said, squinting a little so she could focus on his face. It didn’t help.
“Don’t lie to me. Why did you slam the door in my face?”
Noreen inched toward the bathroom. “Will you excuse me a minute?”
“No.”
“Michael,” she said with exasperation.
“You told me you had a headache. You didn’t tell me you were sick.”
“I’m not.”
He pointed at her. “Then why—” A knock on the door interrupted him. He spun around. “Who’s that?”
Noreen’s hopes lifted. It was just the excuse she needed. “Could you answer that for me? I’ll be right out.” She raced into the bathroom and closed the door before he could argue. She searched for her contacts and quickly popped them in then looked at herself in the mirror and nearly let out a scream. She looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying and her eyeliner had smudged, making her look like a raccoon.
“Are you okay in there?” Michael demanded.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“You have thirty seconds.”
Noreen muttered something rude under her breath.
“I heard that,” he said.
“Then get away from the door,” she shot back. She quickly scrubbed her face then reapplied her eyeliner. Her eyes were still a little red, but she looked more presentable. Feeling better and happy now that she could
see clearly, Noreen left the bathroom and saw Michael reading something on her desk.
“What are you doing?”
“‘Love, A’?” He held up the paper. “What’s this?”
She walked over to him. “None of your business.”
His tone hardened. “Try again.”
Noreen snatched the paper away. “It’s personal.”
“It’s a love letter.”
Noreen was about to say “So what?” when she suddenly understood that he thought
A
stood for Arlene. “It’s not what you think.”
He folded his arms. “Then explain it to me.”
“It’s complicated.”
Michael muttered something she couldn’t understand then slapped his forehead. “I’m an idiot. I really thought you were different. I believed in you, but you’re used to playing with men. You’ve got us tied up in your spider-web. First Harris, then me and now this guy. I fooled myself into thinking you actually cared about me.”
Noreen rested her hands on her hips. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I saw you on the deck, kissing another woman.”
He stared at her, nonplussed. “I see.”
Noreen let her arms fall. “At least you didn’t deny it. I have to give you points for that.”
“It was nothing more than an awkward moment.” He took a deep breath. “We used to be lovers and—”
“And she wants you back.”
“Something like that.”
“I think it’s
exactly
like that. Do you want her?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I did.”
“Really? I thought you had important business to take care of.”
He frowned. “You followed me?”
“No, I wanted to see you. I had something to say.”
“What?”
She waved the idea aside. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“You don’t have to worry about her. It’s over between us.”
“Does she know that?”
“She does now. I made myself clear.”
“Before or after you kissed her?”
He tapped his chest, affronted. “She kissed me.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Is that what this is about?” he asked. “You saw me and thought I was cheating, which, by the way, is impossible because we haven’t talked about being exclusive anyway.”
“You’re rambling.”
He ran a hand over his face. “Damn. You must be rubbing off on me.” He pointed at her. “Admit that you’re jealous. That you wrote this letter out of spite because you don’t want me to be with any other woman but you.”
No, I wrote that letter for a novel,
she wanted to say, but she couldn’t tell him that. And she wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing she was jealous. “It was for you,” she lied.
His eyes widened. “What?”
Noreen swallowed her sense of panic and searched her thoughts, desperate to expand on her lie. “I was just
imagining what I would do if I never saw you again.” She flashed an uneasy smile. “Some women write in their diaries. I write love letters.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why did you think you wouldn’t see me again?”
“You know why.”
“Because of what you thought you saw or because of Clyde?”