Page 7 of Hearts Aweigh
N INE HOURS IN A BALL gown was akin to wearing a satin straitjacket. How did Cinderella do it? Abby tugged at the too-tight bodice. She’d better cut out desserts or she wouldn’t be able to fit in this outfit a month from now.
Wait! She wouldn’t be wearing this dress then.
In three weeks, she’d finish her last cruise duty and trade her tiara for a cardigan and her Monarch name tag for a teacher’s ID badge.
The thought of reentering the school system shot fireworks to her fingertips.
Life was perfect except for one important detail.
Being a teacher was only half of her dream.
Being a wife and mom was the other half.
Please, Lord. Let the Shippers find my special someone. Caring. Handsome. Dark hair. Not too tall. Sense of humor. Decent job.
She laughed at her own audacity.
Never mind, God. I know you’ve got this. Forget the list. But please make it soon!
At least her greeter duty was finished. She grasped the remaining stack of royal purple invitations and snuck in the back door of the main lounge. The Shippers had entered earlier, and she wanted to see if there were any updates before she changed her clothes.
People lingered in the aisles. Bingo must be over.
She saw her matchmakers at a back table but halted at who was sitting with them.
The haughty father from the lobby. How could this snob be the son of amiable Daisy?
He’d shed his fancy suit coat, but his crisp white shirtsleeves were still buttoned at the wrist and did nothing to soften his demeanor.
The man radiated a potent mix of business and charisma.
He was gorgeous in an untouchable movie star way.
Althea noticed her and waved. “Come give me a hug right quick.”
Abby hurried over, embraced the loving woman, and greeted the others. “Hi, Shippers.” She looked at the father. “Hello again.”
He stood from the couch with a slight dip of his head. “Good evening.”
His steady dark eyes locked on her ball gown. Was he wondering why she was still dressed like an escapee from an amusement park?
She held out an invitation card. “We’re having a Day-at-Sea Jamboree in the play center tomorrow. I’m sure Madeleine would enjoy it. And it would give you and your wife some time off.”
“My wife?”
“The woman who was with you in the lobby.”
“That’s the governess I mentioned. She’s taking care of Madeleine.” His lip curled. “My ex-wife wouldn’t be caught dead on a cruise ship.”
“I see.” No surprise he was divorced. What woman wanted to live with such a wet blanket?
“And what was your name again?” he asked.
“I’m Abigail O’Brien, a member of the childcare team. It’s nice to meet you, Mister …?”
“Spencer Randolph Masterson.”
“How do you do, Mr. Masterson?” She longed to drop a snarky curtsy.
“Forgive my lack of manners,” Daisy said. “Abby, this is my son.”
“Wonderful!” She extended the purple invitation. “If Madeleine is Daisy’s granddaughter, be assured I’ll treat her like family.”
“I appreciate the offer.” He made no move to take the card. “But my daughter is shy, and I wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. As I mentioned before, I’ve brought adequate childcare.”
Althea elbowed his leg. “You said the nanny was seasick. What if she’s still upchucking in the morning? Will Maddie hang out with you?”
Abby’s lips twitched at his panicked expression. She poked the invitation closer. “I’ll leave this with you, in case of an emergency.”
This time he took it. His long, lean fingers brushed hers as the card transferred hands. He jerked away and smoothed his already impeccable silk tie. “Thank you. I’ll keep the service in mind, should the need arise.”
“Yes, sir.” This time Abby did bob a curtsy. “Good night, ladies.” She fluttered her stack of cards at the Shippers.
Emily folded her bingo card. “Don’t you worry, Abby. I’ll have a list of viable candidates completed soon. We’re studying the options now.” Her gaze turned to Spencer.
“Yes!” Abby twirled. “I can’t wait.”
A bewildered Mr. Masterson contemplated them. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”
“Haven’t you heard?” She grinned. “You’re hanging out with our ship’s most notorious passengers. They orchestrate love matches.”
“Pardon me.” He bent his head. “They orchestrate what kind of matches?”
“Love matches.” Abby’s composure faltered at the handsome face so near her own.
It was like staring into the sun. She feared she might go blind from the overpowering glory.
An inviting scent filled her senses. Probably an expensive cologne no man she’d ever dated could afford. “They helped my friend Lacey find—”
A condescending snort issued from Mr. Masterson. “Are you telling me my mother is dispensing advice on love ?”
Emily scowled while poor Daisy wilted like an overheated orchid.
The man rested a hand on the couch. “I’d hardly call Daisy an authority on the subject.”
Gerry raised her pointy chin and glared at him with all the fervor of a retired librarian. “Young man, your mother has helped bring together more than one happy couple.”
“Too bad she never used this so-called expertise in her own marriage. Does your little club charge people?”
“Pish-tosh!” Emily stood and tossed her bingo card on the table. “We do it out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“Goodness?” He disregarded the older women and addressed Abby. “I can’t speak for Daisy’s friends, but you’d do well to steer clear of any romantic help offered by my mother.”
Abby clenched the remaining invitations. She’d been the cause of the current disharmony, but she wasn’t sure how to fix it. “Please—”
Ding.
Mr. Masterson checked his phone, fetched his coat from the back of the couch, and shoved the cell in his pocket. “If you’ll excuse me, the governess is still unwell and wants to visit the infirmary. I need to relieve her and take care of my daughter.”
He pivoted to Abby. She craned her neck to make eye contact with the imposing man. Was this how David felt when he faced Goliath?
She pointed at the card. “Don’t forget. We’d love to see Madeleine at our jamboree.”
A short incline of his head was his only answer before he walked away.
Abby released a dramatic breath and turned to the Shippers. “I’m sorry about the slipup. I didn’t realize revealing your matchmaking would put Mr. Masterson in such a snit. I mean—”
“Everything puts my son in a snit,” Daisy said. “There’s no need to apologize for his incivility.”
“He’s not that bad.”
Emily cocked her head. “He’s not?”
“I mean, sure.” Abby tugged at her sash. “He’s not the friendliest person, but he obviously cares for his daughter. And he left right away so his sick employee could visit the doctor. That counts for something.”
Gerry scribbled in a small leather notebook, and Abby tried to read over her shoulder. Before she could make out the words, Gerry snapped it shut. The woman gave a quick nod to their leader.
Abby waggled her eyebrows at Emily. “So when do you start setting me up with eligible bachelors?”
The boss Shipper’s lips curved upward. “You can rest assured, dear. We’re considering every angle.”