SEX, LIES,
AND
CRUISING
by CATHRYN CHAPMAN
Hey Dad, I hope you’d be proud of me for doing
something this significant. Of course, you wouldn’t like the sexy content, but don’t worry—it’s fiction…mostly.
I love and miss you every day. Xxx
Copyright © 2015 Cathryn Chapman
Amazon KDP Edition
Cover design: Jo Kuipers Design
Photo Manipulation: Wasfi Hfaidhia
License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Author’s Note and Contact Details
Love, Drugs, and New York
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Twenty-four hours on board the ship and I’ve already shagged someone.
It’s the first time in four years I’ve been to bed with someone who isn’t my fiancé. Not exactly what I expected to happen when I started this job, but not as bad as it might sound. I’m not some completely heartless cow who left her lovely man in England for a cruise ship job in the Caribbean and then embarked upon an illustrious affair within hours. I needed to get as far away from London as possible…
It was big. Enormous, really. I craned my neck back as far as it would go and stared up, speechless. I’d googled cruise ships, read countless forums, and pored over the ports and the passenger photos, but nothing had prepared me for the real thing. The Galene, one of the ships with Celestial Cruise Line, was quite possibly the most amazing thing I had ever seen—and I got to live on board for six months. She had at least fifteen decks above the waterline, and the orange lifeboats were bright against the shining, snowy expanse of the hull.
Wow. I had never seen anything quite so big or impressive since the summer I spent working in a Turkish steamroom.
I was definitely excited, but it was all so new and overwhelming; a momentary wave of panic about leaving my safe and familiar life back in England washed over me and was promptly quashed.
Onwards and upwards, I said to myself, following the signs to the crew purser’s office. This is the new, exciting life you deserve. Dan can get stuffed.
I was told a colleague had been allocated to show me around on my first day, so I stood outside the office, scanning the scores of faces swarming around me and waiting to be rescued. Languages and accents from every corner of the globe tickled my ears, and the sea of smiling faces was a treat for my eyes. It was truly a cultural melting pot and I loved it already. The flight from London, via Madrid and Miami, had left me exhausted, but I felt my energy picking up as I looked around, my heart pulsating with excitement and anticipation.
A blonde girl appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my arm. “Oh, my God, Ellie?” She squealed with excitement and pulled me into a hug. The girl had the tiniest waist I’d ever seen. “I’m Caitlin, your new roomie! It’s so good to meet you! Welcome!” She spoke in exclamation marks and sounded American, but you can never be too careful about offending a Canadian who might crash tackle you while educating you about the Canucks, so I erred on the side of not asking, and instead just squeaked, “Hello.”
“I’m going to show you around the ship and get you settled in,” she said cheerfully, catching my hand and towing me along behind her. “There are about a million things you need to know. Just stick with me and you’ll be fine.”
As she led me through a maze of corridors, I immediately got lost; everything looked the same, and as we moved down into the ship, below the waterline, the lack of windows made everything just a little scarier than I’d anticipated.
“You know the itinerary, right?” she asked over her shoulder. Before I could reply, she barrelled on. “It’s pretty boring… Playing pool in San Juan on Sunday, cocktails in St Thomas on Monday, sleeping-in for Martinique on Tuesday, private beach in Barbados on Wednesday, 365 beautiful beaches in Antigua on Thursday, dual French and Dutch culture in St Martin on Friday, and a looooong, boring day at sea on Saturday.” She glanced back at me and grinned. “The cruise line likes to squeeze out every last dollar from passengers during their last day on board the ship.”
I was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. “Gosh,” I said intelligently.
“Pretty boring, right? Don’t worry, we find plenty to do!” She winked.
“Oh, good,” I said. My trademark loquacity was completely failing me. I sounded like an idiot.
“So I heard you were English, yeah?” she said, pointing out the crew quarters and sailing on. “We’re super international on these ships, you know. Think I’ve worked my way around half of Europe by now with the guys I’ve dated.” She laughed wickedly and carried on down the corridor at breakneck speed. “So have you ever been to Canada? Spent my whole life in the same little town in Alberta. Cruise ships are waaaay more fun.” My Canadian warning bells had been correct.
We passed the staff quarters and a dining area, Caitlin rattling away the whole time. “Cleaners, waiters, bartenders, security—they’re all ‘crew’. Photographers, entertainment staff, casino staff—all ‘staff’. We members of staff are a bit higher in the pecking order, so we get better cabins and a better dining room.” We walked past another dining room with white tablecloths, napkins, and several glasses at each setting. “This is the officer’s mess,” Caitlin said, walking backwards so she could see me. “They’re mostly the guys who drive the ship, or other senior crew, and they have their own areas altogether.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the ranking system; it seemed a bit unfair, but it seemed that as a photographer I’d still have access to really good facilities.
Caitlin showed me to the crew bar, a huge room split in two; at the moment, vacant, it was dark and rather dingy, and I tried to imagine what it would look like full of people. It had the standard bar set-up: bar, tables, dance floor (with a mirror ball, in case we felt like reliving the seventies with disco), and a sad bunch of Fourth of July decorations that had clearly been left over from months earlier.
“This is where all the action happens…” Caitlin said, twirling in the empty space. She came to a stop and added, “Or at least where it normally starts.” She winked. “Ooh, speaking of which, do you have a boyfriend at home?”
I was temporarily thrown by the change of topic. I’d thought it would come up eventually, but I hadn’t expected to be asked about things so soon. “Oh,” I said. “Erm. Yes. Well, I mean, no, not anymore.” I hesitated, but Caitlin was waiting eagerly for further details. “I had a fiancé, actually. His name was Dan.” As I said his name, a small wave of emotion surged through me. I’d avoided talking about him to anyone sinc
e we’d broken up, including my parents, and now all of my insecurities and frustration bubbled up and spewed forth like an emotional volcano. I couldn’t be stopped. “I met him at university and we were together for four years,” I said. “We moved in together, got engaged…and then everything turned to shit.” I took a deep breath, trying to banish the tears at the corners of my eyes. “All we ever did was watch telly and order in take-away. Dan always said he was tired from working all day, so he never wanted to cook and he never wanted to go out. I couldn’t tell you the last time we had a proper night out—oh, no, wait.” I laughed bitterly. “I remember. He dragged me to a bloody One Direction concert, was super keen on it, and you want to know why?” Caitlin nodded mutely, eyes wide, waiting for me to go on. I half laughed, half choked, and continued, “Turns out he was shagging some bloody twenty-year-old bint from the office. Laura. Turns out One Direction is Laura’s favourite band. He wanted to have something to talk to her about at work on Monday!” My voice had become loud and shrill, leaving the last word to echo in the otherwise silent room.
Caitlin was still staring at me, her mouth hanging open. “Oh, God, dude, fucking One Direction?” She shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “That’s just wrong.”
“She was thin and pretty and exciting,” I said. “According to Dan, I’m fat and boring and frumpy.” I poked dismally at my tummy.
“He’s an idiot,” Caitlin said promptly. I liked her more every minute. “So, did he leave you for her?”
I thought back to the conversation we’d had after Dan had finally came clean about his affair, and snorted. “No,” I said. “Can you believe he actually begged me to stay? Turned out that despite my many, many flaws, he wasn’t quite ready to let me go, just in case his bit on the side fell through. Nothing like being someone’s backup to put your life in perspective.” I sighed. “So I left him.”
“Good for you, girl,” she said, giving me a thumbs up. “What a complete fucker.”
“Yep,” I said. That pretty much summed him up. “Total wanker. You know, I’m actually rather glad he turned out to be such an arse.”
“No kidding?”
“Gave me a chance to come here and pursue my dreams, instead of focusing on his. I have to tell you, playing the dutiful housewife gets terribly boring after a while!” I smiled. “I like to think that the whole end of that relationship was just fate’s way of telling me I was in the wrong place.”
“Well, Ellie, if your dream is to meet some damn fine men, you’ve come to the right place,” Caitlin said, grinning. “There’s someone for everyone here, and they’re all up for a good time—though not necessarily for a long time. We like to say that life on ships goes at four times the speed of real life. Because we live together in such close quarters, everything is really intense and things happen much more quickly than they do at home. Relationships start and finish and tend to be real fast and furious.” She sighed.
I was single for the first time in four years, which was both a terrifying and exhilarating thought. I was eager to dive back in, but I had to admit I had more than one reservation. My love life with Dan had been pretty boring for years and, to be honest, before I’d met Dan my love life could have been summed up in about five minutes. Now that I was here, I was determined to get out and explore what real men had to offer. I didn’t want to rush into anything serious with anyone; I was more interested in having the chance to play and explore, something I’d never really been able to do before. From Caitlin’s description, the relationships aboard ship sounded like just the kind of thing I was looking for.
I looked around the room, feeling slightly delirious from jetlag, but terribly excited all the same. “This is so brilliant. I can’t believe I’m finally here,” I said.
“And trust me, we are going to have a fucking great time,” Caitlin said as she led me out of the bar. “Starting tonight.”
When we reached the photographer’s cabins, the area was deserted, something Caitlin had been expecting. “Everyone will be down shooting embarks,” she explained. “That’s where we take photos of all the passengers as they arrive, before the stupid Americans all ask ‘Where’s the buffet?’” She smiled. “Let’s dump your stuff and grab something to eat. Then we’ll go and do all the formalities.”
When Caitlin opened the door to our cabin, I was shocked at how small it was. Two bunk beds, both neatly made, a TV/DVD hanging off the opposite wall, a desk with a bar fridge underneath. On the back wall there was a tiny wardrobe with drawers underneath, and a bathroom which had the shower almost on top of the toilet.
“It’s not much,” she said, “but it’s home. There’s a cabin steward who comes every day to clean the room. He changes the towels, makes our beds, empties the bin, and does a general tidy up. He changes the sheets once a week, but if you mess them up earlier” she grinned and winked “he’ll change them for five dollars.”
The way Caitlin was looking at me made me laugh nervously. I had a niggling feeling Caitlin was probably a lot more adventurous than I was, and while on the one hand this provided me with an immediate, friendly, and knowledgeable resource for my goal of self-exploration, on the other I was a bit anxious that I was going to end up seeming judgmental. I’d just have to change my way of thinking, that was all. This whole job was for me to have fun and experiment, I reminded myself. I was sure there was a lot I could learn from Caitlin.
Still, it was a funny conversation to have with someone you’d just met.
Standing in the room, staring at the bathroom, I suddenly realised how disgusting I felt. I’d been awake for nearly thirty-six hours and was desperate for a shower.
“I really need to rest for a bit,” I said, sinking down at the desk before my legs collapsed beneath me.
“No problem,” she said. “Bet you want a shower. I’ve got some stuff to do, so I’ll come back in a bit.”
Fifteen minutes later, I stepped out of the shower feeling like an entirely new woman. I’d managed to shove the fatigue into a tiny corner of my brain and was ready to dive back into the world of the ship.
Caitlin had laid out my uniform on the bed for me before buggering off; I held it up before putting it on and sighed. I’d requested a size smaller than I actually wore as a weight loss incentive, but for the time being it was a bit of a struggle to get into.
Uniform on, I looked at my reflection and poked at my muffin top. Pale skin, lank hair, and more than my fair share of squishy flesh. Disheartening. Not quite the sexy babe I wished I was. As much as I hoped that I’d find my sexy fling on the ship, the mirror was telling me that I paled in comparison to the beautiful, tanned, leggy women on board. Just eat less and move more, I told myself. Dan had said I could serve to lose thirty pounds, but it was really more like twenty. Okay, twenty-five.
Irritated at myself for thinking about Dan again already, I pushed him out of my head and half-heartedly started to unpack. I was interrupted by Caitlin’s return, and was more than happy to abandon my suitcase for the sandwich she handed me and follow her to the photo manager’s office.
A really tall guy was leaning at the desk, chewing his thumbnail. “You’re Ellie, then,” he said. His accent was British—hooray, a commonality with a member of the crew! He looked me up and down quickly and then just sat there, and I had a sinking feeling that nationality wasn’t going to help me here. An awkward silence filled the room.
I stuck my hand out awkwardly. “Yes, that’s me. It’s Justin, right? Really pleased to meet you.”
“Yeah, great. Same here,” he said in a decidedly uninterested tone. “The girl you replaced got appendicitis and had to be airlifted out after three weeks on board. Hope you’ll last longer.”
That was a hell of a vote of confidence.
“Fill out these forms and drop them back later.” He slapped a stack of papers into my hand. “You start in the shop tonight. Seth will explain what to do.”
Caitlin gave him a scowl and ushered me out of the room. “Ignore him,” she whisp
ered. “He’s got, like, no personality.”
Well, that was something. Maybe it wasn’t just me. I’d been expecting a manager more like Caitlin, to be honest—welcoming and eager to get to know their team. Obviously not.
Caitlin skipped to a lift with a plastic ‘CREW ONLY’ sign on it, and got in, pressing level five. “Are you ready?” She squeezed my arm reassuringly.
The glass lift rose above the crew levels, and I found myself looking out across a large open area.
“Welcome to the Atrium,” Caitlin said, stepping off the lift.
I had seen it online, but nothing had really prepared me for the incredible expanse of light and space we’d just entered. A huge atrium towered high above us. Shops, restaurants, and bars were visible around the edges, a haze of gleaming windows and twinkling lights. Everywhere I looked was a luxurious display of gleaming surfaces. Directly ahead of us was a small dance floor flanked by intimate clusters of chairs; huge potted palms surrounded a grand piano sitting on a platform.
“Bloody hell—this is incredible!” I exclaimed. My voice bounced around the open area.
“I know, right?” she agreed. “Trust me, you won’t even notice after a while.”
She led me to a tiny shop with a window display of cameras, memory cards, and souvenir digital photo frames.
“Welcome to your new home,” Caitlin said, laughing as she opened the door. “The Pic Stop. Don’t you just love a play on words?” She smiled wryly as I slid into the shop behind her, and then said, “Ellie, meet Seth.”
The guy who had been bending down behind the counter straightened up and came towards us with his hand extended, smiling and watching me from behind a flutter of long, black eyelashes. Crazy perfect chiselled jaw, tall, tanned, a muscled chest barely concealed by his regulation polo. Bloody hell. I loved hot countries. Men like that shouldn’t ever be wrapped up under layers of winter woollies. I had to stop myself from sighing out loud.
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