Page 15 of Hearts Aweigh

A BBY SIGHED IN RELIEF AS the last remnants of the setting sun disappeared behind the windowsill. She could finally stop squinting and enjoy the classy ambiance. A string quartet played on a dais in the center of the room as diners enjoyed the Trafalgar chef’s exquisite culinary creations.

A votive candle flickered on the table between her and Norville.

She fingered the bouquet of tulips he’d brought.

Good thing she’d changed from her work clothes into a simple but feminine sundress.

The dim lighting, romantic music, and posh attire of the people around them equaled the fanciest date of her life.

Achoo!

Abby jumped at the eardrum-puncturing sneeze.

“So sorry.” Norville took out a clean white hankie and wiped his nose. “I must have caught something. I wasn’t sick when I came aboard.”

“Uh-oh.” Abby winced. “You’ve fallen victim to the dreaded Cruise Ship Cold. The staff works hard to keep this place sanitized, but every new batch of passengers brings its own germs.”

He returned his handkerchief to his pocket. “I hope my sneezing won’t disturb you too much.”

“No worries. I spent my first two months at sea popping cold-and-flu tablets.”

“Abby?” A new voice intruded.

Her workout buddy approached their table. “Hey, Claude. Are you our server? This will be fun. I get to order you around for a change.”

“You two know each other?” Norville asked the giant man. The waiter’s black tuxedo stretched taut against bulging biceps, and his white bow tie was dwarfed by his thick brown pillar of a throat.

“Everyone knows everyone when you work on a cruise ship.” Claude chucked Abby on the shoulder. “This girl drafted me as her personal trainer when she found out I used to be a weight lifter.”

“I have to be in good shape to keep up with the kids, but I had no idea what I was getting myself into with this guy.” Abby moaned. “He’s a teddy bear in the dining room but a heartless fiend in the gym.”

“Give me some tips, Claude.” Her dinner companion made a muscle with his thin, plaid-encased arm. “It’s obvious I’m not the bodybuilding type.” Norville’s nose wrinkled. He covered his mouth with both hands and sneezed. “I could also stand to build my immune system.”

Abby chuckled. She liked it when a man didn’t take himself too seriously.

This date had possibilities. They made eye contact for a few flirtatious seconds before she looked away.

A pair of dark eyes met her gaze over Norville’s head.

Mr. Masterson waited with his daughter at the ma?tre d’s desk.

What was he doing here? He strode through the room, holding Maddie’s hand.

His tall body bent to the side to accommodate her short stature.

Her temporary employer hadn’t been happy when she insisted on having dinner with Norville before reporting as a nanny valet.

But the suggestion he let someone else watch his daughter was met with a flat refusal.

Her phone lay on the table. She pressed the button and noted the time.

There were still thirty-nine minutes before she’d promised to report at his suite.

Better to ignore his domineering presence and enjoy her date.

A waitress led the Mastersons to the table directly behind hers.

Maddie sat with her back to Abby, and Spencer lowered himself into the chair facing her.

He offered his daughter an encouraging smile.

It looked like he’d taken Abby’s advice to heart.

His eyes encountered hers, his mouth twisted, and he lifted two fingers in a salute.

No fair. I’m supposed to be off the clock.

“Abby?” Claude’s voice recalled her to the conversation.

“What?”

He tapped his pen against the paper. “I asked if you knew what you wanted to order.”

“Oh.” She peeked at the nearby table, but Spencer was studying his phone. Probably working again.

Achoo!

Abby focused on her date. “I’m sorry. I guess my attention is kind of scattered.”

“May I suggest the chicken Alfredo?” Norville said. “A hostess recommended it to me. She said it was delicious.”

Alfredo? Abby considered the pasta with its thick, creamy sauce. “That’s a lot of starch. When you’re as short as me, you count the carbohydrates.”

“What for?” He looked her over. “You’re beautiful the way you are. I appreciate a woman with a healthy appetite.”

“I …” Abby glanced at Claude and then the minister. “I don’t know.”

“Trust me. You’ll love the Alfredo.”

Abby searched her brain for a gentle refusal. Nada. Why couldn’t she generate a plausible excuse?

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Okay. Why not?”

“Marvelous.” He slapped the menu closed. “Please give us two orders of chicken Alfredo.”

“Asparagus or potatoes au gratin as your side?” Claude waited with his pen poised.

Abby laughed. “Do you have to ask? Asp—”

“We’ll both have the potatoes,” Norville said at the same time.

More carbs.

Abby fought to keep her eyes from rolling up into her head. Instead, they shifted to the next table. Spencer’s mouth quirked as if he’d heard her dilemma and was judging her for caving to the pasta peer pressure.

Claude finished writing their orders and left. Norville unfolded the swan-shaped napkin and spread it across his lap. Abby followed suit, keeping her attention firmly fixed on her dinner companion. They chatted about favorite childhood memories until their food arrived.

“I’d like to give thanks.” He settled an open hand on the table. “If you don’t mind?”

Abby stared at his palm as she processed what he meant.

Oh, right. He wanted to hold hands while they prayed.

She scanned the dining room. It wasn’t that she minded saying grace over the food.

She did that anyway. But her family had never been the type to join hands in a big circle at mealtime.

They just bowed their heads and prayed. No ceremony about it.

Abby raised her fingers, hesitated, then thrust them into his grip before it got any more awkward.

He lowered his head. “Heavenly Father, we thank thee for thy bounty and those which prepared this meal.”

If Abby expected a short prayer, she was disappointed. Reverend Boynton remembered to bless everyone from the cook to the lowliest busboy. His hand grasped hers the whole time, and she tried not to think too hard about why it was wet.

What a sneaky way to hold a woman’s hand.

Spencer’s index finger tapped the table in a slow, steady beat as he witnessed the benediction.

The food arrived, and he cut Madeleine’s steak into bite-size pieces, but then his attention returned to the table nearby.

A light whimper distracted him. He looked at his daughter, who sat with her fork frozen in midair.

“Do you need something?” he asked.

She pointed at the meat in front of her.

Spencer scrutinized the steak. “I don’t understand, Madeleine. What’s the matter? Do you want smaller pieces?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you.” Her lips pinched tight.

“You have to tell me what’s wrong. How else will I know?”

“It’s … I …” Madeleine turned her head and peered wistfully at Abby.

Spencer followed his daughter’s gaze.

“Hold on.” He winked at Madeleine. “I’ll be right back.”

Spencer tossed his napkin down and walked to the neighboring table, where the prayer meeting was still in full swing.

“We ask thee to remember those less fortunate than us,” the reverend droned.

“Excuse me.” Spencer broke into the flowery speech.

Abby jerked her hand from the minister’s and turned to her temporary boss.

“I apologize for disturbing your meal.” He looked at Abby and motioned to the other table.

“Madeleine seems distressed about something, but she won’t tell me what it is.

” He directed his attention to her date.

“Ms. O’Brien is my daughter’s nanny for the night.

Could you possibly spare her a moment? Perhaps she can find out what’s bothering Madeleine. ”

“Absolutely.” Abby shot from her chair. “I should help Maddie.”

“Will you be returning?” Norville asked. “Our Alfredo—”

“Of course Ms. O’Brien is free to return.” Spencer glanced at his watch. “Her shift doesn’t start for another twenty-five minutes. Plenty of time to enjoy her pasta.” Abby winced, and he paused. “On the other hand—”

Was he being too presumptuous? Just because the woman didn’t like the menu didn’t mean she wanted to end the date.

Spencer faced Abby. “If we escort Madeleine to the suite, it might be easier to find out what’s bothering her. What do you think is best?”

She smiled. “Maddie will be more comfortable in the suite. Why don’t we take her back and order room service?”

Norville stood. “Perhaps we can continue this another time.”

“Please don’t get up.” Abby grabbed her tulip bouquet from the table. “You enjoy your meal.”

“When might we reschedule our—”

“Madeleine’s waiting.” Spencer clasped Abby’s elbow and steered her away.

“Goodbye, Norville,” Abby called over her shoulder.

They collected Madeleine, and the three of them walked through the dining room. They passed a table where his mother’s friends sat, and Abby waved.

“Hello, ladies. I had to leave the date for a—”

“Childcare emergency.” Spencer interrupted before the meddling senior citizens could ask any questions. No sense encouraging their matchmaking mischief.

He speed-walked them through the entrance and down the hallway. When they reached the elevators, Abby jerked to a stop. Spencer followed suit.

“Let me be clear,” she said. “I only let you get away with that because it rescued me from an unpleasant situation. If you ever interrupt one of my dates again, I’ll …”

Spencer waited, his hand still holding on to her elbow.

“I’ll …” Abby floundered.

“You’ll …?” His eyebrows rose.

“I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I promise you it will be painful.” She nodded. “Remember my two older brothers? I learned quite a few ingenious torture methods from them.”

Spencer released her and took a step back. “Threat received.”