All the Pretty Poses Page 7
“Oh, really?” Sig asks, interest evident in his tone. “And just how will you be entertaining us?” The look of appreciation in his eye makes me feel less self-conscious, and his friendly, harmlessly flirtatious nature puts me right at ease. I like him instantly.
“I’m a dancer.”
Sig leans up, very openly interested now. “God, that Reese is a lucky bastard.”
“And why is that?”
“He gets all the hot women around here.”
“Oh, it’s not like that. We…uh…we’re just old friends. And I actually work for him in one of his clubs.”
“Which one?”
“Exotique.”
Sig’s mouth drops open a little bit. “Holy shit! You’re that hottie from the other night, aren’t you? With the shirt and the hat? Dayum, you were amazing!”
I can’t help but blush at his enthusiastic and appreciative response. “Thank you. But I won’t only be dancing. I’ll be doing some serving as well, from what I understand.”
I look to Reese for confirmation and am taken aback by the look of anger and irritation on his face.
“I haven’t decided exactly what you’ll be doing yet,” he says tightly.
After a short, tense silence, Sig speaks again and I look back at him, ignoring Reese and his fuming. “Well, if you have down time, maybe you could teach me a few moves. You know, some private instruction.”
The grin that Sig gives me makes his pick-up line more adorably charming than offensive, so I laugh. “I don’t give those kinds of dances.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame. But if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to lend you my lap or help you with your costumes. You know, whatever you need. I’m a public servant at heart.”
His wide, voracious smile draws another laugh from me. “I get the impression that you’re quite incorrigible.”
“If that’s code for strong, protective, and handsome as hell, then you couldn’t be more right.”
And so it goes with Sig. He has an answer for everything and a totally charming way of turning all my comments into sexual innuendos, which is both flattering and entertaining.
He stimulates my laugh more than anyone or anything has in years. Enjoying his company and his audacious flirting is easy as pie, especially considering how virtually any interaction with Reese keeps me torn up in one way or another. It’s no hardship on my part to let Sig dominate my time and attention during the flight to the west coast.
But every time I sneak a glance at Reese, which happens more often than I’d like or than I intend, I can’t stop the equal parts of pleasure and pain that course through me. At times, it’s like nothing has changed.
But everything has.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Reese
When another flight attendant makes her way to me, I find it hard to keep my short temper in check.
“Would you like something else to drink, Mr. Spencer?” she asks quietly.
“Not right now,” is my clipped reply.
She leans forward ever so slightly and drops her voice a little lower. “Is there anything else I could get you or do for you?”
I take my eyes off Kennedy’s profile long enough to give the attendant my full attention. This one has flown with me before. The jet is part of a timeshare between me, my father and two other business associates with frequent travel needs. The company that we use for flight crew knows that I have specific requirements of the female attendants. My clientele like all their staffing encounters to be visually pleasurable and the company we use has always been accommodating. They are screened thoroughly and regularly, just like all my club employees are, and these women are young, beautiful and, occasionally, very willing to go…above and beyond. Like this one.
I see the heat in her dark blue eyes. I see the way she wets her lips and squeezes her br**sts together for maximum cleavage. She’s just as appealing as any girl I’d hire if I had my pick. But not today. Today she’s just annoying. Today she’s not what I want. Today she’s just not Kennedy.
“As…enjoyable as that sounds, I think I’m set for the flight,” I tell her kindly.
She nods and straightens before moving back through the cabin to ask the others if they’d like something to eat or drink. My eyes shift to Kennedy again and I see that she’s watching me. She’s not smiling at something Sig said or talking to him like she’s known him forever. No, this time I’ve got her full attention. And she’s not laughing.
I give her a small nod before I turn my attention to the view outside the window. I don’t even bother to hide the smile that I suddenly feel like wearing.
Damn her, two can play that game.
I let my irritation dissolve into calm determination. If there’s one thing that life has taught me, it’s to never give up. If things aren’t going my way, I do something to shift the tide. If the first answer is no, I keep trying until I get the right one. And if something gets in my way, I’ve learned to move it out of my way. Kennedy may not admit that she’ll be mine again yet, but she will. I’ll see to it.
My cruise assistant, Karesh, is waiting for us with the limo at the airport. He is capable, reliable and a stickler for the details, which is a combination that I consider mandatory for someone in his position. He knows how I like things and he makes sure they are prepared in such a way, down to the letter.
We quietly discuss all the arrangements as everyone else chats on the way to Marina del Rey. He’s already arranged for the smaller boat that will ferry us from there to where the yacht is moored out in the deeper waters.
When the driver pulls up beside the dock, I can see that the ferrying boat is already taking our luggage out to the yacht.
Hemi comes to stand beside me, slapping me on the back as he points out toward the yacht where it floats out in the bay. “Is that the new yacht, bro?”
“No, the new one is registered in the Caribbean. This is the second one I bought.”
Sloane steps up to stand beside Hemi, winding her arms around his waist. After a few seconds she looks out in the direction of the yacht, too. “Ohmigod, is that it? Is that the boat we’ll be going to Hawaii on?” Her voice is dripping with excitement.
“Yep, that’s it,” he tells her. She turns shining eyes up at him and he gives her a quick kiss.
“This is gonna be awesome, baby!” she beams.
He nods and kisses her forehead, the moment turning suddenly intimate. I clear my throat and take a few steps away. With perfect timing, the ferrying boat returns from the yacht to retrieve us. I give my hands one loud slap. “Let’s load up so we can get going,” I tell them, anxious to be on our way.
Karesh ushers Hemi, Sloane and Sig down the dock to where the smaller boat waits. I look back for Kennedy who is trailing behind. She’s walking slowly, staring out at the horizon with a frown on her face.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
She says nothing at first, simply continues to stare. Finally, she turns cloudy eyes to me. “That is your boat? The one I’ll be spending the summer on?”
“It is.”
“So this is what your life is like? I had no idea.”
“This is just one of my businesses. This isn’t where I live my life. It’s simply what I do.”
Kennedy’s eyes stare into mine. “In your case, I think it’s pretty much the same thing, don’t you?”
She seems unhappy as she walks away. I don’t quite know what to make of her commentary, so I let it go. No sense in wasting time on things I can’t figure out or control. Especially not when I need to put my energy toward the things that I can.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Kennedy
A pleasant yet quiet man named Karesh gives us a tour of the yacht.
“This is Domani, the second of Mr. Spencer’s three entertainment yachts.”
“What does that mean, ‘Domani’?” Sloane asks, reading my mind.
“It means, ‘tomorrow’,” Karesh explains. “His first is called ‘Ieri’ which means yesterday, and his newest is called ‘Sempre’,” he finishes.
“Forever,” I whisper. I remember hearing the Italian word somewhere, maybe from Malcolm. I think I remember him saying his mother was born in Sicily, which would account for the dark good looks of all the Spencer men.
We follow Karesh from one stunning space on the yacht to another, all set against the backdrop of an endless horizon and water as far as the eye can see. We’ve already left the harbor and I had no idea we were even moving.
It’s more opulent than anything I’ve ever seen. The accommodations include everything from a library and show room, to a small swimming pool and gym. Although more compact, this craft lacks nothing that any resort on land boasts. At least not that I can see.
I wonder how I ever, in my young mind, thought that Reese and I could have a future of any kind. We might as well be from different planets. I mean, I knew it at the time. I knew he was the quintessential rich kid and I was the classic poor girl, but this…this is just staggering. We weren’t worlds apart; we were galaxies apart. I was a fool to ever get involved with someone like Reese. But the only thing I can do about it now is vow never to make the same mistake again.
And I don’t plan to.
Ever.
When we go below decks to the staterooms, Karesh begins assigning rooms. I get a glimpse inside each one we pass. They’re all outfitted with queen sized beds, rich cream duvets and carpeting that appears to be six inches thick. They’re nicer than my bedroom at home, which I was quite proud of until today.
Soon, everyone is getting settled in their room and I am following Karesh by myself to another part of the ship.
“These are the crew quarters,” he says. “And since you’ll be working for Mr. Spencer during this voyage, your accommodations will be located here.” We pass several narrow doors, one of which is open and I can see inside. Two sets of bunk beds dominate the room, one against the wall to the left, the other against the wall to the right. I gulp. I’m a very private person and it really didn’t occur to me to ask about living quarters. But, it’s too late to ask now. We’ve already left Los Angeles behind.
We pass an area he explains is the crew lounge. It’s a large room with a kitchenette against the back wall and a long table that separates it from the living area. The main space holds three sofas, two chairs, and a big screen television that’s mounted to the wall. Several people are gathered around two men playing at a foosball table that’s pushed into a corner. None of them bother to look up as we pass, for which I’m intensely grateful. I need to get my bearings before meeting the others.
Karesh continues on to more rooms, finally stopping beside the very last door. He opens it and sweeps his arm forward, an indication that I should precede him. So I do.
This room is different than the others. It’s lighter, this one having a small, high window on one wall, and it has one full-sized bed rather than the bunk beds that line the walls in the others. There is a small sink in one corner, as well as a soft round chair that appears to be bolted to the floor. I hold my breath, almost afraid to ask if this one will be mine.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” Karesh divulges.
“Really?” He nods his head and smiles.
“Really.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, running my hand over the countertop that surrounds the sink. “Please don’t take this as a complaint, but why do I get a room like this? What about the other rooms?”
“Mr. Spencer asked that you be given this room.”
“Did he say why?”
“I only do as I’m told, ma’am. I don’t ask questions.”
I nod and smile. “I understand. Well, thank you. This room is…is…it’s great.”
“I’m glad you approve,” he says pleasantly. “Your bags will be here shortly. If there is anything else you need, feel free to ask. Just dial 300 from any phone on the ship. I can arrange to have any necessities obtained for you once we reach Hawaii.”
“We’re going to Hawaii?”
“Yes, that’s our first stop, where we’ll drop off Mr. Spencer’s brother and his companions and pick up our clients.”
“Oh, I see. And then where will we be going?”
“French Polynesia, ma’am,” he answers.
“Oh,” I reply vaguely but enthusiastically. I have no idea what kinds of destinations lie in French Polynesia. That’s what happens when you don’t finish high school. The GED program skips a lot. “It sounds amazing.”
“Oh, it is,” he assures. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. If your bags aren’t delivered in ten minutes—”
He doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence before he’s interrupted by a young, fit, blond guy. “Sir, I have them.”
“Perfect timing, Brian,” Karesh says, stepping out of his way. “Brian, this is Kennedy. She’ll be in entertainment. Serving as well if extra help is needed. Kennedy, this is Brian. He’s the on-board trainer and the person who will be keeping you conditioned during your stay.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Brian.”
“Likewise,” Brian says with a broad smile.
Karesh nods to me. “I’ll see you in one hour for dinner in the rotunda.”
“Thank you, Karesh,” I say before he walks off. Smiling, I turn to Brian who’s holding my big suitcase. “I’ll take that.”
As if it weighs nothing, Brian picks up the case with one hand, keeping it out of my reach as he holds me off with the other. “Nope. I’ve got it. I’ll be working those muscles of yours soon enough.”