Sailing In Style. Dana Mentink
be great,” she said, offering him a full kilowatt smile.
Cy watched Spooley go, wondering if this time he’d made a blunder of cosmic proportions. Should he beat a hasty retreat? But Piper stopped him, her slender hand resting on his rib cage, and for some reason, he felt immobilized by it.
Spooley called back. “Should I get the ship doctor or something? For the blood sugar issue?”
“No need,” Piper called, offering him a wave. “I’ll take care of him.”
She turned to Cy, eyes sparking with some strong emotion. “Don’t you move,” she said through the bright smile she’d finished aiming at Spooley.
Thinking he’d metaphorically dived into enough dark waters for one evening, Cy followed her instructions.
* * *
PIPER WAITED UNTIL Spooley was out of earshot. Yards of wet lace clung to her body, and she realized she’d lost her shoes somewhere in the river. She strove to remain calm and dignified. Instead, she cried, “Are you trying to ruin my life?”
Cy’s eyes widened, luminous in the darkness, the blue showing silver. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”
“Oh, knock it off, Cy. Why are you here?”
“I thought he was hurting you.”
“No, not here here.” She pointed to the deck. “I mean here on the River King.”
“Working.”
She shook her head so hard droplets of water flew onto his face. “No, you did not just say you’re working on the River King. My ears are full of water.”
“I’m here for the next three weeks.”
She realized she was biting her lip when she tasted blood. “Please tell me you are not the addle-headed decorator who is going to redo the reception room after flooding his stateroom?”
He raised a hand. “Cy Franco, addle-headed decorator at your service.”
She groaned. “No, no, no.”
“Yes, yes, yes, and I wasn’t addle-headed until I saw you staring into my room.”
“I wasn’t staring. I happened to be walking by and I dropped my handkerchief.”
“Piper, no one in the twenty-first century uses that line. People don’t even own handkerchiefs anymore. They’ve gone the way of the rotary telephone.”
She paced, stopping and starting, toying with the beading on the bodice of her gown. “Never mind that. You have to go. You can’t do that job.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m working on the River King. You can’t be here.”
“Why not?”
She squeezed water out of her skirt to give herself time. “You’re a distraction. We—you and I—it was a mistake.” She threw up her hands. “You just can’t be near me.”
“Why—”
She stabbed a finger at him. “If you say ‘why not?’ once more, I’ll kick you.”
“Ironic to be called a mistake,” Cy said. “Especially by a thief.”
Blood rushed to her face. She shot a glance at the door to be sure no one had heard. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm. When she tried to wrench away, he held fast.
“I see how this is all part of your acting career, but you shouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”
“Let go of my arm, Cy.”
He looked down at his fingers, staring as if he’d never seen his own hand before. He let go. “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Please tell me you don’t work for that guy. I think you owe me that much.”
“I don’t owe you anything.” But she did. She knew it and he knew it, so she aimed for calm. “I’ve got an acting gig doing the dinner show on this boat. It’s called Steamboat Races. We’re in our last few days of rehearsals before we open. I was lucky enough to catch Carson Spooley’s interest. He is vacationing on the boat, and he stopped in to see us work on a few scenes. He’s offered to help me.”
Cy raised an eyebrow. “Help you how, exactly?”
“None of your business, Cy. I need him. That’s enough.” She was disgusted by the throb of desperation in her own voice, and she hoped he didn’t notice.
He cocked his head, sending a blond curl bobbing across his forehead. “You used to be a woman who didn’t need anyone, who didn’t take orders from a soul.”
She stared at him. Cy, her heart cried out, I can’t even remember who I used to be. Instead she lifted her chin. “People change.”
“Not you.”
“Cruelty, Cy? That’s not like you.”
“You were a good teacher.”
A throb of pain cut into her. Had he changed because of what she’d done? It would be unforgivable if her betrayal had blasted the innocence from his soul. She ground her teeth. She’d done what she had to do to protect herself and Cy. “Fine. Go find your own Twinkie, Cy, and stay out of my way.”
“I’ll try to keep to my assigned area, but I’m always a little loosey-goosey with the rules.”
She leveled what she hoped was a look brimming with indignation, but it might have been ruined by the water dripping from her hair.
“All right, then. Keep to your side of the boat and everything will be fine.” She sailed by, leaving a trail of water in her wake.
“Which side is mine, by the way?”
She lifted her chin and gave him her back.
* * *
CY’S HEART THUNDERED as he watched Piper disappear into the hallway. It killed him to see her. Drove him crazy that she let him have the last word. No fiery retort? No stinging barb? He needed to find out what had happened to the Piper Brindle he’d known. Or thought he’d known. As he followed her, he bumped into the uniformed young man. He could now see the black braid twining down the man’s back and his slightly crooked bow tie, an earring sparkling in one lobe. He regarded Cy with amusement as he removed one earbud.
“Did you need a towel, too?”
Right now, he needed to catch up with Piper.
“No, thanks. I’m in a hurry.”
The young man arched an eyebrow. “Not gonna get through that way. Floor’s being mopped.”
Cy heaved out a breath. He felt like swearing except that every profanity he’d ever voiced brought back the taste of the green soap Aunt Bitsy had used to cleanse the sin from his tongue. He settled for a drawn out sigh.
The kid offered a hand. “Hollister Luis. I’m the purser.”
“Cy Franco. I wish some sort of secret passageway would turn up about now.”
Hollister’s eyes widened. “No passageways.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “But I could show you secret places in the River King that would blow your mind. You’re the decorator, right?”
He nodded.
“And you tossed Mr. Spooley into the river, didn’t you?” He grinned, showing a perfect smile except for the one smaller, crooked tooth next to the two big front ones. “I didn’t think a decorator would have the guts.”
“I’m not your everyday decorator, and actually, it was an accident.”
“Spectacular.”
Cy only wanted to escape, but Hollister’s frank smile made him try another tack.