Faking It(14)

“I heard about that. You know I would have dived right in after you, clothes and all, right?” he said.

“I know you would,” I smiled back. I gave his firm bicep a loving squeeze. I so wanted him to think of me as more of a friend than a romantic possibility.

“Misty,” Adam spoke nervously, “after this charter, do you want to, maybe, go for dinner…”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I could say either ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but neither really did me any favors. ‘Yes’ would be leading him on and ‘no’ would just cause friction that I didn’t have the patience for right now. Luckily, before I could answer, in walked Captain Harper.

“Adam,” he said, “come up to the wheelhouse, please. Tell Keith I need him too. Are you the only steward around at the moment, Misty?”

I nodded. “The others are busy with breakfast.”

“Then you had better come too,” he added, before turning on his heel and marching out. Adam followed him, so I hopped down from the counter to follow Adam, only for Tarquin to call me back.

“Wait, darling,” he whispered to me. “What was all that hush-hush with Adam?”

“None of your business, luv,” I said, trying to mimic his British accent.

“But, did he finally say those three little words to you?” hissed Tarquin.

“Which three little words?” I grinned.

“Me want sucky…?”



In his dimly lit, yet elegantly presented wooden-paneled wheelhouse, Captain Harper stared out of his wide forward windows at the horizon. Adam and Keith were there, as was Mr. Harper, the first mate. I didn’t get into this room very often. Stewards and deckhands had no business up here unless we were invited. And we were only invited to be praised for an exceptional job, or fired for misconduct. The captain smiled a welcome to me and motioned for me to sit on the chair next to Adam. I felt nervous, a knot forming in my stomach.

Since I joined this crew, two months ago, abandoning my position as chief steward on a Mediterranean yacht and flying down here, lying about my years of experience so I wouldn’t be overqualified for the third steward position that was available on Aphrodite, I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Is the jig finally up? I wondered, have I been found out and am about to be fired? If I was, I was pretty sure Adam and especially Keith wouldn’t need to be in the room. I allowed myself to breathe a small sigh of relief at that thought.

I quickly decided I may have reacted too soon, because I then noticed a looming darkness in the distance, off the port bow. I could see that the normally clear blue skies of the Caribbean were being smothered by black, foreboding clouds that hadn’t been there at dawn.

“It’s bad news, I’m afraid,” frowned Harper, his English accent making every word seem slightly more ominous than it needed to be, “A storm, of which we had no idea was headed this way, switched its trajectory in from the Atlantic and is now aimed right at us. Whatever we decide to do, Misty, the guests are going to be having an indoor day today, and it might even be a rough ride. Can you brief the other stewards?”

I nodded to him.

“Aruba is sixty miles southeast of us, through the storm, Cap’n,” said Adam, looking at the satellite map on the monitor.

“He’s right,” agreed Harper. “We’ll never make it if we try to head home.”

“And even if we did make it to port and try to ride it out,” pointed out Keith, “that’s exactly where the weather will be at its worst.”

“So, we don’t head back to port,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. The assembled men turned toward me.

“Go on,” said Harper.

“There’s an atoll, five miles west, it has a bay facing away from the storm. It’ll give us some shelter if it does get this far,” I told him, pointing it out on the map.

“She’s right,” smiled Harper. “We might get some thunder, lightning, and rain, but we’ll be out of the worst of the wind and waves. Good thinking, Misty.”

“How did you know about the island?” asked Adam.

“We passed it two charters ago. I thought it was pretty,” I giggled. He didn’t need to know that you pick up certain things after seven years as cabin crew.

“Well, it falls to me to deliver the bad news to the primary charter. Let the rest of the crew know what to expect, will you,” instructed the captain, “Everyone else, to your stations. I think we have about two hours.”

I headed back below to give Sarah and Tanya our orders, and together we started trying to work out how to we were going to keep nine wealthy clients, none of them used to being told they can’t do anything, entertained while we all waited out a hurricane.

“Toga party!” suggested Tanya. That was pretty much her go-to plan for any eventuality but, for once, Sarah and I thought it might not be the worst idea for this group. “Seriously?” Tanya looked stunned that we’d listened to her. “I was joking! You realize a toga party with this group is likely to turn into an orgy, based on yesterday’s sundeck action.”

“That’s their business,” said Sarah in her usual ‘seen-it-all-before’ fashion. “The deckhands will be nearby in case things get out of hand. Together I’m sure they could even handle D Cash if we needed them to.”