Page 33 of Ship Happens
After torturous seconds that seem to stretch into years, I finally disarm the device and remove it from my shorts, though I keep the damned thing beneath the blanket. It’s bad enough that he heard it. He doesn’t need to see it too.
“Will Maverick be my handler?” I keep my voice level, trying to pretend what just happened didn’t actually happen. Fuck diamonds. Denial is a girl’s best friend. “We don’t exactly mesh well, but I’m at least familiar with him.”
Jim sighs, but he won’t look me in the eye now. That’s probably best. “Maverick seems to think you’ll do better with someone else, but I chose him to be your handler for a reason. Frankie...not all of the Sinners are good people, but some of them are the best people. You’d do well to remember that instead of allowing preconceived notions to cloud your perception.”
He walks away and leaves the room without answering my question. Or unchaining me from the fucking bed.
“Wait!” I call as the door clicks shut. “I really need to pee! Please!”
Seconds later, the door opens again, and Maverick comes around the corner. Much like Jim, he won’t look me in the eye. He stares at the carpet and says, “Do you need more time to...”
“No! I don’t need any time for that. I wasn’t—” I close my mouth and take a deep breath. “Whatever Jim said, he was mistaken.”
Maverick lets out a deep sigh, then nods. “Jim asked me to give this another shot. He’s been good to me and my friends, so I’m doing this as a favor to him, just so we’re clear. If it were up to me, I’d have handed you off, but he didn’t feel you’d be safe with anyone else.”
“Well, at least we’re both in this for our own ulterior motives. You want to be a good friend, and I want to take down the white whale.”
“So, he’s agreed to give himself up at the end if you agree to play nice?”
“In so many words, yes.”
He shakes his head and looks at the floor. “I told him you’d have your own conditions.”
I rattle the handcuff. “Any chance you could set me free so that I can dress? This conversation would be a lot better with eye contact.”
“Why? So you can profile me some more?” He stands and fishes the key from his pocket, then tosses it into my lap.
“Enough with the sad-sack routine. I agreed to play nice, and I will. My part of the bargain will be upheld without reproach.” I free my wrist, then rush for the bathroom while gripping the blanket around my naked torso. Before I pop behind the door, I lean around the corner and look Maverick in the face. “I’m going to shower and dress. Meet me in the atrium bar. We have so much to talk about.”
Chapter Fifteen
Maverick
Jim might be a weird man, but he also has one of the biggest hearts I know. That’s what I would have said before this cruise from hell. Now? Now I’d say Jim is an asshole and a half, and his good deeds aren’t so altruistic. When he helped me clear my mother’s medical debts a few years ago, I never realized it would come back to bite me in the ass.
Both cheeks.
Repeatedly.
I close my eyes and sip the glass of ice water in front of me. Times like these call for clear heads. Well,myhead has to be clear. What Frankie does is her own business. Hell, she might be more tolerable with a few shots in her.
The bartender looks past me as he wipes the bar with a white cloth. He lets out a low whistle under his breath, remarking on the “piece of ass” that’s currently climbing the stairs. Not one to pass on the chance to admire an attractive woman, I turn to see who he’s referring to.
As I suspected—and feared—he was referencing the one and only Frankie. Her fingertips barely grace the handrail as she clears the final step, though I’m not sure how she even walked up the stairs in that tight beige pencil skirt. Strappy tan heels hold her dainty feet in a death grip, and a flowing cream top gives the faintest hint of cleavage.
“I bet she smells good,” the bartender whispers as he licks his lips and stares openly. “Fuck, I bet she tastes good too. Not that I’d eat her rich-bitch pussy.”
I turn on my stool and motion the bartender closer.
“What can I get for you, bud?” He smiles at me as he turns a glass in his hand.
I smile back as I place my forearms on the bar and lean forward. “I’m just curious about something,bud. How old are you?”
“Me? I’m?—”
“Old enough to know how to treat women with respect?” I cock my head and drop the smile. “Yeah, you’re old enough for that. How about you keep your disgusting sexual commentary to yourself.”
He opens his mouth to pop off with some asinine comeback from his grade-school days, but then his eyes fall on my wrist. As a member of staff, he knows his place.
