Page 17 of Eat Your Heart Out

8

Ali

I glanced up at the ship namedRoxanne. His mother. Of course. He had a wonderful life.

The staff from the house loaded clothes from a moving rack in the distance. I squinted and saw the wardrobe I’d been offered being loaded.

My heart pounded as I wished I was his equal and not just an employee. His offer of friendship was impossible. He would star in my dreams with those muscles, his quirky smile, and the brightness in his gaze.

Then as if I conjured him, he waved from the side of the ship. “All aboard.”

He disappeared as I headed for the gangway, but when I made it, he was standing at the top. It was like walking toward my fate. My heart thundered, and when he took my hand for a second to guide me next to him, a spark rushed through me.

Behind him, three men in uniform stood still.

He pressed his hand on my back briefly then waved me toward them. “Ali, this is Rodolpho, the captain.”

I curtsied. Then I cringed. I wasn’t sure why I’d even done that. I hugged my waist and wished I knew what to say.

The captain said, “Don’t get yourself in danger, miss.”

“I’ll try not to.” I forced my cheeks higher into a smile. “Thank you for keeping us safe.”

He nodded.

I moved on as Gerard directed me. “This is our chef, Francesco, and the steward, Zheng.”

“Welcome aboard, miss. We’re happy you’re here,” Francesco said in a thick Italian accent.

We were going in absolute luxury. I shook their hands. “Oh, well, thank you.”

Zheng’s uniform fit him perfectly and probably would have looked awful on me. Once were all settled, I would see how else I could help out.

We lightly swayed with the water, though were generally stable. I half wondered how it would feel if we hit stormy waters.

Gerard rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me show you to your room.”

Neither of us said much as we headed down a flight. As we turned toward the private quarters, I said, “I’m in shock that I’m about to leave the US. I never really go anywhere.”

The one time my mother had taken me to Disney World as a girl, I’d been twelve years old, and we’d flown on an airplane.

He walked with me to the landing then directed me left. “Do you swim?”

My cheeks felt hot as he led me to the same room I’d relaxed in without permission. He opened the door.

“Some,” I said. “I’m not an expert, but I can do a few laps if needed.”

“This is your room.” He led me inside.

My clothes were half-hung, and the staff were working to organize the rest.

I backed out as Gerard asked, “Is there anything you might need for the journey ahead?”

I would manage. I’d figured everything out in a lot worse. “Can I ask you a question?”

We were back in the hall.

“Sure.”