Page 33 of Hearts Aweigh
She gave a ladylike titter. “Between matchmaking and bingo, we stay busy.”
Spencer hoped bingo was the extent of her roommate’s gambling habit. He didn’t want anyone taking advantage of his mother.
“You’re not loaning them money, are you?”
The twinkle disappeared. “Don’t be ugly. Even if I suggested it, my friends would refuse. Not everyone is as calculating as the circle we frequented in New Orleans.”
Though she hadn’t raised her voice so much as a hair, her indignation was clear. Spencer heeded the irate set of his mother’s lips and sent a quick prayer heavenward. Healing decades of hurt was hard enough without piling on new misunderstandings. Perhaps redirection was the best course.
“I had a time tracking you down. You haven’t used any of your credit cards since you left.”
“As you are aware, those accounts aren’t really mine.” Her posture appeared relaxed yet ramrod straight at the same time. “Your father kept an iron grip around them during his lifetime, and he passed control to you upon his death. Not even the deed to our house had my name on it.”
Spencer fidgeted in his seat. He was well acquainted with his late father’s controlling tendencies. “Dad said you were unable to manage your funds. You always bought whatever struck your fancy. Remember when you purchased that modern art monstrosity at a charity auction? You spent twenty thousand dollars.”
Daisy fluttered her eyelashes. “And it was worth double when I sold it a year later.”
“I concede your point.” He fiddled with his coffee mug. “But I worry you’ll run out of money with this flamboyant lifestyle. Living on a cruise ship. Buying who knows what? How many closets full of clothes and purses and jewelry are back in Louisiana?”
“Not as many as you think.” Daisy braced a hand on the table and rose slightly from her chair. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m capable of supporting myself.”
Was she really? What if someone swindled her? She’d never had to fend for herself in her entire life.
He reached to lay his fingers on top of hers. Daisy’s gaze softened, and she sat. Spencer tried to convey warmth with his voice. If he could just make his mother understand he was concerned for her welfare.
“How are you paying for this lifestyle? Did you sell the shares Dad left you in his will? Even though his partners run thebusiness now, it might upset our controlling interest if one of them gained the majority.”
Daisy yanked her hand away. “Is that your motive for coming? To ask me to sign over your father’s shares?”
“Of course not. I’m not a moneygrubbing—” Spencer stopped. He took a swig of lukewarm coffee to give himself a few seconds. He set the cup down and forced an optimism he didn’t feel into his demeanor. “If you’re happy living in this floating hotel, then who am I to hinder you?”
“I’m glad we agree.” Daisy rose once again and pushed her chair in. “If you’ll excuse me, I promised my roommate I’d accompany her to bingo.”
Bingo again? How many games did this ship run?
He stood opposite her. “Perhaps we can meet later to continue our discussion. Text me when you’re available.”
“I don’t own a cell phone.”
He released a long, frustrated stream of air from his mouth. “It slipped my mind. Forgive me.”
“I do hope you’ll allow me to spend time with Madeleine before the voyage ends.”
Spencer inclined his head. “Of course.” The conversation wasn’t over, no matter how dismissive his mother was. When this boat returned to Galveston, he intended for Daisy to put a permanent end to her cruising career.
CHAPTER 16
EMILY TOOK A SLOW PROMENADEon the upper deck, keeping a weather eye out for their latest client. Had last night’s dinner scuttled Abigail and the minister? Emily wasn’t quite ready to write off Norville Boynton, but the forecast was dismal. Abby’s exuberance had lessened by degrees as the date progressed. She’d seemed relieved when Spencer butted in to claim her help with a childcare problem.
“What do you think, Lord?” Emily stopped at the rail. The easy motion of the whitecapped waves calmed her vexation. “I know Norville is one of your shepherds, but if you don’t mind my saying so, he’s not very romantic.” The edge of her mouth quirked. “Now, Daisy’s son? He’s like something straight out of a novel—tall, dark, and handsome with a wounded past. Not to mention the Fourth of July fireworks sparking between him and Abby.” She sighed. “But if Daisy is opposed, there’s no hope.” She slanted an eye at the fluffy clouds. “Right?”
A squeal drew her attention to the splash pad where jets of water spurted from the deck. But it wasn’t a child’s squeal, although plenty of little bodies frolicked through the fountains. No. This sound was feminine and flirty. The clingy woman Emily had noticed in the lounge bounced through the spray in her bikini as if she were barely older than the children.
“Bounced is right,” Emily muttered. “There’s hardly enough material in that swimsuit to contain anything.”
Mr. May–December was stretched out on a sun chair. A bright orange ball cap hid his gray roots as he videoed his considerably younger partner with a cell phone. He ogled her antics like a—
Emily couldn’t even come up with an appropriate word.
