Page 20 of Hearts Aweigh

E MILY TOOK A SLOW PROMENADE on the upper deck, keeping a weather eye out for their latest client.

Had last night’s dinner scuttled Abigail and the minister?

Emily wasn’t quite ready to write off Norville Boynton, but the forecast was dismal.

Abby’s exuberance had lessened by degrees as the date progressed.

She’d seemed relieved when Spencer butted in to claim her help with a childcare problem.

“What do you think, Lord?” Emily stopped at the rail.

The easy motion of the whitecapped waves calmed her vexation.

“I know Norville is one of your shepherds, but if you don’t mind my saying so, he’s not very romantic.

” The edge of her mouth quirked. “Now, Daisy’s son?

He’s like something straight out of a novel—tall, dark, and handsome with a wounded past. Not to mention the Fourth of July fireworks sparking between him and Abby.

” She sighed. “But if Daisy is opposed, there’s no hope.

” She slanted an eye at the fluffy clouds. “Right?”

A squeal drew her attention to the splash pad where jets of water spurted from the deck.

But it wasn’t a child’s squeal, although plenty of little bodies frolicked through the fountains.

No. This sound was feminine and flirty. The clingy woman Emily had noticed in the lounge bounced through the spray in her bikini as if she were barely older than the children.

“Bounced is right,” Emily muttered. “There’s hardly enough material in that swimsuit to contain anything.”

Mr. May–December was stretched out on a sun chair. A bright orange ball cap hid his gray roots as he videoed his considerably younger partner with a cell phone. He ogled her antics like a—

Emily couldn’t even come up with an appropriate word.

Gerry joined her at the rail. Her eyes surveyed the splash pad. “You found Abby.” She pointed at the pint-size woman wearing a purple rain poncho. Their client was manning a giant overhead bucket, hung between two poles, that routinely drenched the people below with a crashing wave of water.

Emily’s lips twisted. “My attention was diverted elsewhere. What’s the male equivalent of a hussy?”

Her friend’s brow crinkled. “A reprobate?”

“Sounds too cultured.” Emily shook her head. “There must be a more humiliating word for a cheater with his tongue hanging out.”

Gerry followed her gaze to the man on the lounge. “Who is that?”

“Nobody important.” Emily sniffed. “I—”

She paused as a waiter appeared at the man’s side with a tall, frosty drink in a decorative glass. The employee passed him the beverage, along with a square black envelope like the one that had ruffled Daisy’s feathers.

“Look.” Emily clutched Gerry’s arm. “It’s another black note.”

They watched as the man took a sip of his drink before opening the delivery.

He slipped the card out and tossed the envelope on the deck.

His satisfied leer disappeared as he read.

His head jerked like a child afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.

Abandoning his drink on the side table, he stuffed the paper in his pocket, scrambled to his feet, and speed-walked away.

“Hey!” his youthful companion called. “Where ya goin’?”

She raced after him, but he didn’t slow down until he reached the doors to the interior of the ship.

Gerry glanced at Emily. “Should I be taking notes?”

Emily’s jaw set. “Do you even need to ask? It’s time we investigate what’s in these disturbing envelopes.”

Children swarmed past Abby as she and a male coworker manned the MS Buckingham ’s gigantic splash pad.

Positioned dead center, their job was to prevent any accidents from occurring.

She stood under a bucket the size of a Volkswagen that rocked over her head.

Her shoulders tensed as it creaked. Its lip tilted all the way, and a cascade of cold water doused her body.

Abby tugged the hood of her royal-purple rain poncho lower on her forehead.

The pad was a popular destination for the kids, but cruise workers counted it a punishment.

“This isn’t your usual station.” Her friend Amari clenched the lapel of his raincoat closer to his throat as the giant bucket returned to its upright position. “Did you get on the supervisor’s bad side?”

“I guess so.”

“What did you do?”

“I’m spending a few days as a nanny valet, and Twila isn’t happy about being a worker short.”

“It’s not like you can help it. Monarch makes your assignments.”

“I know. She feels—Sweetie, please get off there!” Abby hurried to a five-foot-tall, fluorescent, fake fire hydrant a young boy was scaling.

As she drew closer, she recognized Jason, the soda fanatic.

He climbed the tower with a superhero beach towel tied like a cape around his neck.

He’d almost made it to the top when she grabbed him under his pudgy arms. His chubby cheeks bunched in an exaggerated grimace as she set him on the ground.

Abby squatted in front of him. “You might hurt yourself. Please don’t—”

He bolted before she finished her sentence.

Abby returned to her station, and a little blond head caught her attention.

She smiled as Madeleine skipped among the streams of water jetting from the deck floor.

At least the child wasn’t dressed for a party this time.

Her frilled cotton top and matching shorts were still elegant but appropriate for a fun outdoor activity.

Her hunky father sat on a nearby chair, close enough to see her but far enough away to keep his laptop dry.

“Doesn’t that man ever stop working?” Abby muttered.

“Who?” asked Amari.

A new deluge from above saved her from answering. She shook the streams of water from her plastic coat and moaned.

Amari rubbed his arms. “I wish they’d heat the water.”

“It’s a splash pad, not a hot tub.”

“Jacuzzi duty.” He grinned. “Sounds way more my speed.”

“Sweetie!” Abby rushed back to the fire hydrant, where Jason was starting his second climb. “I told you to stay off. You might get hurt.”

He crossed his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and ran away. Abby groaned. There was one on every cruise. She glanced at Spencer who sat a few feet away. He looked up from his computer.

That’s a good enough invitation for me. Time to stick my nose in.

Abby walked over. “You’re not exactly dressed for the occasion.” She motioned to his white shirt and dress slacks.

“I took my tie off.” He waved a hand down the empty front of his shirt.

“By the end of the cruise, you might work your way into a pair of sandals.”

His gaze returned to his computer. “Hopefully I won’t be here that long.”

“Are you going to have your private yacht meet you mid-ocean?”

“Hardly.”

“My point is, if you put on a pair of shorts, you could join Madeleine and have some fun.”

His left eyebrow rose, but his focus remained on the screen. “Cavorting among ice-cold jet cannons isn’t my idea of a good time.”

Abby gave up. One voyage wasn’t long enough to fix the things that were wrong with this man. She retied the strings at the neck of her slicker and rejoined Amari.

“One more hour.” His teeth chattered. “If we live.”

“We’ll make it. The time will fly—”

A wave hit them from overhead, and Abby staggered to the side.

Amari shivered. “You were saying?”

“Excuse me.” Maddie wandered beside them.

Abby crouched down. “Are you having fun?”

She nodded.

“Do you need something?”

“No. I wanted to say hi.”

“Hi!” Abby held up both hands and waved them.

Madeleine copied her motion. “Hi.”

“Waaaaaaaaa—”

Abby’s head snapped up. She zeroed in on the whiny cry.

The wannabe mountain climber vibrated in a crumpled heap below the hydrant, tears streaming.

Abby raced to help Jason to his feet. Her heart pounded as she took inventory.

No blood. She checked his head but couldn’t find any bumps.

The pathetic bawling was more in line with a toddler than a seven-year-old.

She suspected the fall had scared him, nothing more.

“What have you done to my child?” A voice roared from the distance as a woman in a two-sizes-too-small swimsuit and fishnet cover-up barreled over. She examined the boy’s arms and legs.

“Ughh, ugh, ugh,” he whimpered.

“I don’t think he’s hurt.” Abby laid a hand on his shoulder. “But I can call the doctor if you’d like.”

“ You don’t think he’s hurt. What do you know? Of course I want the doctor!” She smacked Abby’s hand away.

“Yes, ma’am.” Abby hurried to the wall phone and placed the call. Afterward, she spotted Jason’s superhero beach towel lying in a sodden wad on the ground and retrieved it. She returned to the pair and offered the towel to his mother. “He dropped this.”

The woman grabbed it and dabbed at her son’s tears. “It’s okay. Tell mama where it hurts.” She scowled at Abby. “Where is that doctor?”

“I’m so sorry. He is treating an emergency in the sick ward. They’re sending one of our registered nurses. She’ll be here soon.”

“I don’t want a nurse. I want the doctor. What if my baby is seriously injured?”

Abby stayed calm. This wasn’t the first overprotective parent she’d dealt with. “I promise the nurse is highly qualified to handle this situation.”

“Situation! Is that what you call your negligence?”

The woman swung the towel. Wet terry cloth slapped Abby’s face with the force of an open hand.

Her teeth rattled, and her neck cracked.

She grabbed her cheek. A fiery tingling flushed her skin.

The towel landed at her feet, and the woman bent to pick it up.

Abby cringed, bracing herself for another hit.

“Hey!”

A long arm swooped between them, and Spencer grabbed the towel. He flung it away and slid his large body in front of Abby’s. “Excuse me, madam. Have you lost your mind?”

The woman’s volume increased. “Me? This lady let my son get hurt. She wasn’t doing her job properly.”

“I’ve been at the splash pad with my daughter for”—Spencer checked his watch—“the last hour. In that time, I’ve observed this employee on two separate occasions encourage your son to get off the hydrant he fell from, even though it was not her responsibility.

This may be a supervised area, but parents are still required to monitor their own children.

” He pointed to a sign posted on a pole.

“I witnessed you run over from the opposite side of this large deck. If anyone let your son get hurt, it was you.”

“Who are you to tell me I’m a bad parent?” the mother yelled.

“I’m this young woman’s attorney.”

Abby’s eyes widened, as did the mother’s.

Spencer retrieved his wallet from the back pocket of his slacks and pulled out a business card. He passed it to the irate parent. “If you can give me the name of your lawyer, we’ll know who to contact if she decides to sue you for compensation.”

“Comp—compen—What?”

“Assault is illegal, even at sea. If I report this attack to the security team—”

“Mr. Masterson, please,” Abby said. “There’s no need to go that far.” A crowd was gathering. One passenger had his phone out, videoing the whole humiliating mess.

“See?” The woman grabbed her son. “This worker knows what she did. Forget involving security.”

The mother spun on her heel, but Spencer lifted his arm to block her retreat. “If my client chooses to overlook the matter, I won’t stop her. On one condition. You owe her an apology.”

“For what? My baby is the one who got hurt.”

“Your baby behaved in a reckless manner, and it was his own poor choices that caused the accident. But you physically assaulted Ms. O’Brien, and an apology is the very least you can offer her.” He pointed a finger at the business card. “Or you can give me the name of your attorney.”

She crumpled the card and tossed it at his feet. Snatching her son’s elbow, she jerked her chin at Abby. “Sorry.” The woman stomped away with her child in tow.

Rubberneckers dispersed since the show was over.

Spencer turned to Abby. “I shouldn’t have butted in, but—”

“Oh. My. Word. That was awesome!” Abby crowed as she grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Can you come and play my attorney every time I have splash pad duty?”

She mentally retracted any unkind words she’d ever thought about his personality or his choice of wardrobe. The man was an overdressed guardian angel.

Spencer looked down at the slim, wet fingers grasping his. Despite her cold skin, an unusual sensation burned where she touched him.

He snatched his hand away and hid it behind his back. “I … I’m afraid I … have other clients.”

“Oh well. My loss.”

She pushed the hood of her raincoat from her head. The sun glinted off her fiery red locks. A hint of gold among the auburn strands glowed in the sunlight like sparks from a firecracker and—

What’s wrong with me?

He didn’t have time to be waxing poetic about a cruise ship worker’s hair. “Madeleine!” He shouted louder than he meant to, and his daughter rushed over.

“Yes, sir?”

“Sir” again. Would she ever treat him as a father instead of a stranger? He noted her apprehensive posture, softened his tone, and lowered himself to her eye level. “It’s time for lunch. Then we’ll check if your governess has recovered. Is that okay with you?”

She gave her customary nod. Had Priscilla prohibited her from speaking? He could barely get a word out of her. The guilt hit him again. If he’d been around more, he might have noticed sooner.

Abby bent to Madeleine. “You’re going to love the surprise we’ve planned at the Kids Kingdom.

” She met Spencer with a professional smile that was nothing like the effervescent beam she directed at his daughter.

“If you come by with Maddie around two o’clock, my required duty will be finished, and I can nanny full-time for the rest of the voyage. ”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ve made another appointment with my mother for three.”

Abby snickered. “You need an appointment to meet your own mother?”

“When she’s Daisy Randolph Masterson, I do.”

The pity that crossed her face irked him. He might not have had a conventional upbringing, but he was still a Masterson. He didn’t show weakness to anyone.

“Come along, Madeleine,” he said. “Let’s get some lunch.”

His daughter recoiled. “Like last night?”

Spencer chuckled. “I promise the food won’t be bleeding this time. You can order whatever you want.”

She hopped up and down. “Pizza with pineapple?”

He sighed. “As long as I don’t have to eat it, sure.” Spencer held out an open palm, and to his great relief, his daughter placed her hand in his. He straightened and acknowledged Abby. “Until two o’clock, Ms. O’Brien.”

She jiggled her fingers. “I’ll be there with bells on.”