As soon as she saw me, Diana’s plastic smile had turned into a real glower. The only reason I could think for her being angry was that she had in fact gone back to the pool to wait for me. I hoped that wasn’t why she was late for the dinner.
“Don’t worry about her. You waited for her for over an hour. It’s not your fault if she didn’t show.”
“Still, even so, I think I better go and apologize.”
“Okay then. Good luck with that.” Ethan gave my hand another squeeze of encouragement.
With some trepidation, I stood up and walked across the room toward the long set of tables. They had all been covered with bright white tablecloths and whiny silverware that glittered in the evening light.
I walked around the far side of the table where Diana’s seat was positioned.
“Hi, Diana,” I said with an apologetic smile on my lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t catch up with each other again earlier.”
“Yes, it was a shame, wasn’t it? It was quite strange. I popped out for two minutes to do up my hair, and when I came back you’d all disappeared. I thought you were going to take some pictures of me?”
Two minutes? More like two hours.
“I’m so sorry again. Do you think I could take a couple of pictures now instead?”
“I suppose so,” said Diana with a dramatic sigh. She gave Rolf a pointed look, and he quickly stood up and positioned himself behind her chair to pull it out for her as she rose.
“That’s great,” I said with a smile as I took a couple of pictures of her. “Can I take one of you with him as well?”
“Of course you may,” said Diana. From her tone, I could tell that it was a massive inconvenience for her though.
Rolf and Diana obviously had a lot of practice at having their pictures taken, as they immediately fell into a well-rehearsed pose. Diana stood by his side, with one hand on his chest, the silver bracelet she was wearing catching the light glimmering while I snapped the pictures.
“That’s a beautiful bracelet you’ve got,” I said to Diana. “Did you win it in a competition?”
She gave me a look that could best be described as disgust. “I did not win it,” she said pointedly. “It was a gift from a dear friend who I miss very much.”
I considered pointing out that she’d obviously won the crown that she was wearing on her head but didn’t think she would appreciate it.
“It really is a lovely piece. Sorry again for the confusion earlier. Enjoy your meal.”
“You too,” she said without any sincerity.
I was halfway back across the room when I had to turn around upon hearing another commotion. This time, it was not a large group of people arriving; it was something else. Something much more repulsive.
There were gasps from the diners as Ruth Allen entered the restaurant.
It seems that Ruth was rather keen on the bathing suit she had been wearing earlier, as she was still wearing it. But this time, she had accessorized it. But not in any way which the average beauty pageant contestant would appreciate.
“Is that… meat?” called a shocked voice.
“It’s bacon!” said another.
“I can see pork chops!”
“She’s got burgers on her—”
It seemed that Ethan’s pep talk earlier had done nothing to calm her feminist ire. She must have just been pretending earlier. Now, she had dressed herself in meat.
“Look at me! All of you! Look at me!”
She hardly needed to yell. Everyone already was looking at her, or at least her meat decorated bathing suit anyway.
“This is what you all are. All of you so called beauty pageant contestants. Meat. Meat for men. Meat for people to grab at. Meat for people to grab and stare at. Is that all you want to be!? Meat!?”
One of the beauty pageant contestants stood up, a look of outrage on her face.
“I’m a vegetarian. I find it very offensive of you to compare me to meat.”
“But you are! Every time you coat yourself in makeup, you’re meat! Every time you put on a dress, you’re meat! Every time you step on stage, you’re meat!”
The beauty pageant contestants did not enjoy the comparison. The single girl who had been standing up was joined by most of her companions also rising to their feet, and several others began to yell.
“You’re just jealous!”
“You could never compete in a million years!”
“You want us all to dress like men, don’t you?”
“I’m proud of my beauty! My father worked hard to pay for it!” said a particularly outraged, well-sculpted girl.
Then, like a white knight, Ethan was there.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid you don’t meet the dress code,” he said, giving me a wink over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
To appreciative claps from the contestants, and a wistful stare from me, Ethan ended our date by marching out of the restaurant with another woman. A meat-covered woman.
That’s why we never get any chance to spend time together, I thought to myself with a shake of my head. Work just keeps getting in the way.
It just so happened that today work was a feminist protester decked out with meat.
I wondered if I was the first person in history to have had a date ruined in such a way.
Knowing my luck, I probably was.
I didn’t feel like finishing the rest of the meal alone, so I simply grabbed the rest of the breadsticks from our table and went for a walk instead.
“Don’t choke me this time,” I muttered to the breadsticks as I headed out.
If I couldn’t have my date, I could still go for a starlit walk and gorge on carbs.
Chapter 6
Diana Penn had woken up annoyed. It was hardly surprising that she had woken up in a bad mood, especially after the day she had before. She had originally hoped that a beauty pageant aboard a ship would be something a bit different, something exciting and fun.
But it wasn’t. It was the same old, same old. Full of jealous people who couldn’t stand the success that Diana had had over the years.
And that Martin? The look he had given her. Unbelievable.
When would he grow up and realize that she was simply the best there ever was and ever would be? There was no need for jealousy; he just needed to accept it. Whatever had happened between them all in the past was just that—the past.
The only welcome relief she had received so far was in the form of the envelope that had been slipped under her door sometime during the night. She had found it that morning when she had gotten up to begin her preparations for the day.
Inside the envelope was a simple white card, stating she had been invited for a morning session of pampering: a facial, a massage, a manicure, with a professional to apply her makeup.
Quite frankly, she deserved it. After the day before, it was the least they could do.
Diana made her way through the dark, quiet ship. It was still only 7 a.m. and most of the other passengers didn’t come out of their cabins until much later. But whoever had sent her the invitation had thought right. If they were going to pamper and spoil her, they needed to do it at the beginning of the day. There would be no point in doing it if she’d already done her morning makeup herself, would there?
Diana was wearing a bathrobe and walking in flip-flops. She was carrying the red dress she intended to wear that day, her pageant sash with her name across it, and her crown in her hands. She would put them on after the massage, but before they did her hair.
She followed the signs for the conference suite, as one of the rooms there had been turned into the pageant contestants’ personal green room. It was where they would hang out backstage, change their outfits, get their hair done, and so on.
While Diana walked, she thought about the day before. It was hard to say what had been the worst experience. There had just been so many.
Was it when that awful woman had burst onto the stage, snatched Diana’s crown, broke it so callou
sly, and tossed it in the pool? On a normal day, that definitely would have been the worst thing. In a normal year, that would have been the worst thing. But not on this trip.
Or was it that idiot girl who was supposedly in charge of their social media—with fewer followers than the average six-year-old beauty pageant contestant—who had told her she was going to take some photos of her only to disappear? And to turn up again on a date of all things? Such unprofessional behavior was nigh on unforgivable. But of course, in Diana’s day from hell, that still wasn’t the worst thing.
What had happened at dinner was nigh on unbelievable. Did the ship have no security at all? That crazy feminist woman had burst in, covered in what looked like half of the ship’s meat supply. Whatever point she was trying to make had been completely lost on Diana. Unless that point was to tell the world that she was a crazy woman.
No, the previous day had been an unmitigated disaster. And it was only right that the cruise company was making it up to her with this personal, private pampering session.
When Diana reached the conference room, she was happy to smell the calming scent of burning lavender candles. At least someone was well prepared. The room was bathed in a dim orange glow from the candlelight, and thankfully the effect had not been ruined by the addition of harsh, unnatural light. At least not yet, Diana thought pessimistically.
One wall of the room had been set up with care stations, a series of chairs in front of mirrors with lights all around them. There were several sofas on the other side of the room for lounging around on; beauty pageant contestants needed time to relax, after all, and right at the back of the room two massage tables had been set up.
There was no sign of life though, other than the flickering of the candles.
Diana walked in and placed her arm full of clothes on one of the massage tables.
“Lie down, and get comfortable. I’ll be with you in a minute,” came a friendly voice.
Diana peered over her shoulder, but the speaker had already disappeared again. Presumably they were getting their oils or whatever they needed. Of course they weren’t prepared. It was a Swan cruise. If she had learned anything over the last day, it was not to trust anything the Swan people told you.
Diana removed her bathrobe and lay down on the massage table, putting her head through the hole and giving her shoulders a little shake to encourage them to relax.
She didn’t have to wait long. Almost as soon as she was lying face down, she heard footsteps approaching from across the room.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“Good, good. You stay right there.”
Well, of course it would be hard to give me a massage if I was walking around, thought Diana. She was going to say it out loud, but it would’ve been lost on the masseuse. She was sure they wouldn’t follow her clever sense of humor.
Diana felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. Then she felt something soft next to her neck. What was this silly masseuse doing?
It was obviously going to be an unconventional massage. Couldn’t Swan do anything right?
“What are you doing?”
“Be calm, be still, be quiet.”
The masseuse, using two fingers of each hand, gently lifted Diana’s head from just below her chin, and slipped something right under her neck.
“What kind of massage is this?”
“It’s your last one,” said the voice calmly.
Last one? She hadn’t had a first one yet!
The fabric underneath Diana’s neck suddenly went tight.
Diana understood what the masseuse meant now about it being her last one.
But it was too late.
Chapter 7
“Why is our phone flashing?” said Sam, waking me up from a dream in which Hot Stuff and I had been kayaking in the pool deck swimming pool for reasons that rapidly became unclear as I reentered consciousness.
Surely the bigger Lagoon Pool would have been a better place for kayaking, I thought as I tried to shake off the fuzziness.
Slowly I blinked my eyes awake and looked across the room. Sure enough, there was a light on top of our landline phone, flashing away to itself.
“I suppose it means we’ve got a message?” I said to Sam, as I swung my legs out of the bed and took the one step required to arrive at the desk. My friend was standing next to it, one hand on the door to our small ensuite bathroom.
“I didn’t notice it when we came in last night, did you?”
“No. But my sweater was on top of it,” said Sam with an apologetic smile. “Must have missed it yesterday.”
I shrugged. “Whatever. If it was anything important, they would’ve sent a message to our cell phones, right?”
“Probably,” said Sam. “See you in a minute.”
Sam had her towel over her shoulder and her uniform clasped in her left hand. With a little wave, she went into our small bathroom to get ready for the day.
I picked up the phone and pressed the button for the voicemail.
“This is a message for the attention of Adrienne James,” said a familiar voice. It only took me a moment to recognize who it was, at about the same time as they told me. “This is Diana Penn. I’m calling because I don’t know what’s going on. You said you were going to take some pictures of me by the pool deck. But after I’d quickly fixed up my hair, I returned to find that you, and the rest of your colleagues, had disappeared. I couldn’t believe it. In fact, I ended up sitting there for more than an hour, by myself, in the dark, awaiting your return. You did not return. I expect a full and frank explanation for this first thing tomorrow morning. Goodbye.”
I let out a long, annoyed sigh. I had waited for her for over an hour, and she hadn’t turned up again. It was her own fault. But would she admit it? No. Instead, I was going to have to apologize to her. Sometimes customer service work really sucked.
Actually, on second thought, I wouldn’t have to apologize to her. I’d seen her in the restaurant and apologized there, which must have been after she’d already left the message.
There was a long beep from the phone, and then the voicemail system announced message two.
“Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable! Instead of taking the pictures with me that you had arranged, you went on a date! Worse yet, it was with the man who was supposed to be providing security and quite plainly didn’t! I don’t know what kind of operation you’re running here, but you better get yourselves shipshape sharp. I didn’t think much of your apology either. Unfortunately I didn’t get a chance to tell you because we were interrupted by the crazy meat lady! Now, the reason for my call is that one of your more thoughtful colleagues has arranged a pampering beauty session for me in the morning. I anticipate it finishing at 8 a.m. I expect you to be there, to take those photos you claimed to want before the first event of the day begins. I hope I’ve made myself perfectly clear. That’s eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”
I checked the time with my smartphone. It was already seven thirty. I didn’t have time for breakfast, or even a shower since Sam was already in there.
Complaining to myself silently, I tied my hair into a ponytail, threw on my uniform, hung my lanyard with its identification badge around my neck, and called out a farewell to Sam.
In a miserable mood, I decided to head over to the conference suite immediately, where one of the rooms have been converted into a makeup room for the girls. Perhaps we could get the photos done early and I’d have time for breakfast before the beauty pageant events began for the day.
I opened the door to my room and almost crashed into someone outside.
“Yo!” said a familiar voice. “Where are you hurrying off to?”
I grinned at my friend, my negative mood immediately improving. It was Cece, our younger Puerto Rican friend who worked in housekeeping. Somehow, we hadn’t caught up yet this trip.
“One of the beauty queens needs me,” I said with an annoyed shake of my head.
“Now? You don’t start yet, do you?”
“I feel like I’m always on duty with these people. And they only arrived yesterday.”
Cece put a hand on her hip and gave me a disapproving look.
“Don’t let them push you around too much. You’re not their servant, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Where are you off to?”
Despite the early hour, Cece was already dressed in her work uniform too. Normally she didn’t start cleaning the rooms until after nine, but it looked like she was having an early start as well.
“We’re down a housekeeper. I’ve got to start early to cover for her.” Cece paused and smiled. “Still, it’s overtime, right?” Cece held out her hand and rubbed her fingers together. She was saving up for college and she needed all the cash she could get.
“Who is it that’s missing?” I asked her. “Is it that new guy I saw?”
“New guy? What new guy? If there was a new guy, I wouldn’t have to be doing all this extra work.”
I frowned and shook my head. Maybe he hadn’t been new. Maybe he was just another person I didn’t know on the ship.
“The tan guy with the hair and the beard.”
“With hair and a beard? That doesn’t narrow it down much these days, does it?” said Cece, giggling.
She had a point. It didn’t matter anyway. I didn’t have time to worry about the housekeeping department. I had an angry beauty queen to photograph.
“Okay, I’ve got to go. This crazy old beauty queen wants me taking pictures of her at eight o’clock, because I missed her yesterday.”
“Have a good one. Let’s catch up for dinner.”
We gave each other a brief hug, and as we did so I heard Cece’s phone buzz.
She pulled it out, glared at the message, and then shoved it back in the large front pocket of her cleaning apron.
“Something good?”
Cece snorted. “Yeah, right. It was my boss. Apparently, two of the girls need fresh towels already. And they can’t wait until we do their room later. These beauty queens are unbelievable. Haven’t they ever heard of using the same towel twice?”
With both of us now in a rush, we hurriedly went our separate ways.
Beauty Queens and Cruises: A Humorous Cruise Ship Cozy Mystery (Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries Book 4) Page 5