Page 27
Suddenly Single—What a Trip!
Hi, Trixie. It’s me, Shelby. I’m absolutely incensed! My friend, Brenda, and her husband (who is Ned’s cousin) just dropped a bombshell on us, revealing they’ve been behind the financial windfalls and even the cruise, trying to manipulate us into getting back together. This led to a massive fight between Ned and me, with accusations flying about who really might have orchestrated this entire scenario. Now, I’m left questioning everything, feeling like I can’t even trust my own face in the mirror. On top of all of this, I’ve called my boss and let her know that I wanted to decline the promotion.
Frustrated and demoted,
Shelby
Dear Demoted,
In the whirlwind of revelations and accusations, it’s crucial that you find your grounding. Head to the spa, recalibrate, and seek some clarity away from the chaos. In a sea of tumult, it’s paramount that you find a way to relax.
XOXO Trixie
The last nightof the cruise has arrived, and it’s nothing short of magical.
The first day of a cruise brings an energetic buzz of expectancy, and for some reason, the final night of the cruise brings the same. It doesn’t surprise me since those two days have the most in common, starting with the luggage lining the halls just outside the cabins. The buffets are usually hit hardest on those two days—in the beginning to get the cruise started off on the right culinary foot, and at the end to make sure they sneak in a few more culinary delights before saying bon voyage to caloric abandon.
On the first day, there’s the palpable thrill of excitement for what lies ahead, and on the last day, that excitement transforms into nostalgia with a desire to capture and hold on to memories that have passed too quickly.
The Emerald Queen has been at sea all day and every hour was a busy one. I held three classes this afternoon on the promenade deck where we used acrylic, watercolor, and alcohol markers to recreate the tropical landscapes we’ve had the pleasure to visit during the trip.
After my final class, Elodie and I met over soft serve ice cream outside of the Blue Water Café and she filled me in on the dirty dalliance she had with our resident media mogul, Shep Murphy.
I would have told her that he was still sitting high up on my suspect list, but seeing that the deed is done it’s a moot point. She also let me know that Tinsley got wind of her midnight tryst, and it explains why she’s been extra crabby today.
Honestly, when it comes to my male suspects, I’d much rather that Tinsley win out in the tryst department. I’d hate for Elodie to end up dead one day because of her insatiable craving for handsome men.
But the day has passed, the sun has set, and the stars are twinkling above the Emerald Queen as if winking their approval over the festivities on the ship this evening.
The Swashbuckler’s Soiree is off to a great start, right here on the promenade deck, and seeing that the pirate-themed party is ship-wide, the captain invited every last passenger to dress for swashbuckling success. Which would explain the run on pirate gear in the Queen’s Mall this afternoon. But I didn’t have to worry. Elodie had me covered. She sent up a puffy white blouse that sits off my shoulders with a purple lace-up bustier built into it, along with a matching rag-tag purple skirt, and a pair of kitten-heel purple boots that make me feel as if I could hijack this vessel with the best of them.
Elodie assured me I’d be the most alluring wench on this vessel—and with my boobs billowing out of my bustier top, I’m starting to feel that way.
The Swashbuckler’s Soiree unfolds before me like a scene from a bygone era. The ship has truly been transformed into a pirate’s dream under a blanket of stars. The air is alive with excitement and the deck is swaying, not just with the rhythm of the sea, but with the buzz of anticipation from everyone aboard. The sound of rock music blares from the speakers and everyone seems to have a glowing cocktail in hand—something from the Jolly Roger treasure chest no doubt.
Bess and Nettie head my way, each dressed to the nines as they tap into their inner wenches as well. Bess has on a red frock with a thick black belt and a red bandana tied around her neck. And Nettie has donned something I can only describe as—burlap?
“I told you she wouldn’t get it,” Bess tells Nettie as they step in close. “Go on, Trixie. Tell her the truth. She looks as if she’s wearing a potato sack.”
Nettie swats her bestie over the arms. “That’s because I am wearing a potato sack, genius. I went down to the kitchen and asked for as many potato sacks as they could give me and I managed to cobble this beauty together with the sewing kit the ship provides. And you can bet come runway season in Milan, I expect to see this baby making its debut. I bet it will cost a mint.”
“That last part I believe,” I say. I’ve seen the runway offerings and witnessed their price gauging as well. Nettie might just be onto something. “Did the Queen’s Mall run out of pirate attire?” I ask, unsure if I’ve just insulted one of my best friends on the ship.
Nettie waves me off. “That wasn’t the look I was going for.”
Bess rolls her eyes. “The look she was going for was fashion-forward castaway meets desperate farmhand.” She turns to her bestie. “Or are you pioneering the new haute couture hobo line?”
“Why blend in when you can stand out?” Nettie pats that gray beehive sitting on top of her head. “My look comes with a backstory—one of a lonely pirate wench dragged off to the lowest deck of them all and forced to feed the crew while wearing nothing but what I could muster from the galley. It was either this or feed them in the nude—and everyone knows you don’t get dessert until later.”
“That’s quite—imaginative,” I muster.
“Well”—Bess sizes her up again—“you’re probably the only one on the ship whose outfit is compostable so I’ll give you that.”
A spray of miniature stars crops up before us as Hank Silverman appears, slithering snakes for a beard and all.
“Ooh, Hank’s here,” I say, motioning for Bess and Nettie to give me their hands and they quickly comply.
“Oh, how I’ve been waiting to have a word with you, hot stuff,” Nettie purrs while doing her best to wink to my right and left.
“He’s on this side,” I say, hitching my head to my left.
“Indeed I am,” Hank says. “Ladies, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh hon.” Nettie is back to purring. “Your pleasure is my treasure.”
Bess clucks her tongue at the thought. “Would you stop?”
“What?” Nettie squawks. “The man is a pirate.”
“Aye, aye, me hearty, and you do have me hearty.” He chuckles.
“Great,” Bess grunts. “He’s feeding into her insanity.”
“He’s feeding into my friendly pirate spirit,” Nettie counters. “Besides, I’ve always had an affinity for snakes.”
“Well, I certainly haven’t,” Bess says. “In fact, I don’t do well with things that slither.”
Nettie nods. “That explains why your marriage imploded.”
“And on that note,” Hank says with a dark laugh. “How about we focus on imploding something else this evening? Like the life of a killer.”
“I’m with you on that,” I say. “I think our only alternative at this point is to have another talk with Connie. She has a degree in molecular biology. She must be Mr. X.”
“Could be,” Hank says. “And that close proximity could have spurred the affair.”
Nettie nods. “And then she dumped him because he had yet another affair—this time without her.”
“It’s true what they say,” Bess chimes. “You lose him how you got him.”
“Or you make him walk the proverbial plank by way of poison,” I say.
Hank growls, “That’s what we’re about to find out.”
The string lights above flicker as Tinsley steps out with a microphone and calls all of the pirates on board to attention.
“Ahoy, me hearties,” Tinsley calls out, looking like the wenchiest wench of them all in a black bedraggled evening gown. “Welcome to the Swashbuckler’s Soiree! The night is young, and it’s high time we indulged in some proper pirate tomfoolery. To kick things off, we’ll be hosting dueling lessons on the starboard side of the promenade deck. For those interested, follow me and enjoy a wonderful start to your night of revelry. Later on, we’ll host a walk the plank contest at the main swimming pool where contestants will charm the crowds with their best cannonball. Winner will be selected by way of the crowd’s applause and will receive a one-hundred-dollar gift card to the gift shop downstairs. And don’t forget it’s the final night of the ship-wide treasure hunt. There are still buckets of chocolate gold doubloons and sparkling trinkets to be had. Plus, there is a special treasure hidden on the ship this evening, a booty of gold coins good at the ship’s casino and a gift certificate for half off the next cruise that you book with Royal Lineage Cruise Lines!”
A whoop goes off in the crowd as the music starts up again.
“Let’s go,” Nettie says, snatching Bess up by the hand as she drags her in Tinsley’s direction. “We’ve got a duel to get to.”
“But I thought you had a hot date with a dead pirate?” Bess calls out.
“First thing’s first,” Nettie shouts back. “I’ve got a blade to plunge in your beating heart—or next to it. I’ll take what I can get.”
“Well, I won’t take what I can get,” Hank howls so loud my entire body vibrates with his newfound anger. “I demand a killer.”
“You and me both.” I sigh just as I spot Wes and Ransom stepping out onto the deck while embroiled in a rather heated conversation. And if I’m not mistaken, it’s a full-blown argument.
I don’t need a treasure map to tell me what they’re arguing about either. It’s me.
Ransom thinks I’m insane. And there you have it.
Telling Ransom my secret was tantamount to shooting our relationship right between the eyes.
It’s a kill shot, and I pulled the trigger myself.
I’m about to head in their direction—and quite possibly offer to throw myself overboard to quell them both—when Hank steps in front of me.
“You can deal with the boys later. Where you need to be right now is over there.” He points a glowing finger in the other direction and I turn that way and gasp.