by Lauren Wood
Once we were alone, my father poured us each a cup of coffee. It was still hot and flavorful, an island blend with traces of almond and cocoanut. He sighed and took a sip, taking a moment of quiet to enjoy it.
I said, “I’m sorry I spoke out of turn, Daddy. That was thoughtless, stupid. It’s just … such an odd thing, y’know?”
“I do, honey, and it’s okay, I”m not upset with you. You’re my everything, my pride and joy, the best thing I ever did or ever will do. You’d have to do a lot worse than that to upset me, Dana.” He gave me a little kiss of the forehead, the smell of the coffee heavy on his breath, a smell both familiar and cozy. “No, what’s bothering me is the conversation we had before the meeting, with that record company executive.”
“Producer, I think. Anyway, Daddy, I told him I’m not ready — ”
“I know you did, sweetheart, but … maybe he’s right. Maybe you are ready.”
“No, Daddy, no, I’m only twenty-one. I can’t even drink in a lot of states, not that I want to. But you know what I mean.”
“Dana, you’re a singer, you could be a star. Youth is a big part of that. At twenty-one, you’re certainly not too young. You may be too old by this time!” We shared a chuckle, but it didn’t last. “And you are ready, we both know that.”
“But I’m happy here,” I said, “I like living on the ship, singing with the band, being here with you.”
He smiled, but I knew it was bittersweet as he nodded, staring into a some sad distance as he often did.
“I’m glad you’re happy, Dana, and I couldn’t be happier having you on the ship here with me. You’re the only family I have, you know that. But that’s what worries me, that you feel like you have to stay here just to babysit me, keep the old man happy.”
“Daddy, you’re not that old!”
“But neither one of us are getting any younger, are we?” He stepped away, leaving me to take in my own reflection in the well-polished glass window. Neither one of us could go on ignoring the changes that had happened over the previous years. My blonde hair and a natural shimmer, my complexion was smooth and clean, not blotchy, no blemishes. My blue eyes were clear and round, my neck every bit as long and inviting as Caroline’s. But my body was a bit leaner than Caroline’s, my hips had more of a feline sway, my champagne breasts hiding behind my sweet summer dresses. And ther was more hiding behind my sweet and pretty facade than just my breasts. My body was seething with sexual hunger, positively crackling with it. I was a twenty-one-year-old woman living in my father’s shadow, and living up to my responsibilities. I couldn’t bare to have my father forced to stand by and watch as I became some shipboard trollop, passed around from guy to guy. That’s not the girl he raised, and it’s not the woman I ever wanted to be. But I did have wants, desires, and I wanted so badly. I wanted so much to feel a man’s arms around me, strong hands caressing my breasts, nipples hard under his fingertips, huge member pushing into me, slow and sure. I couldn’t stop imagining myself getting railed against the cabin wall or against the rails of the deck, overlooking the ocean and not caring who was watching or what they thought of it. I had to wrap my body around someone big and hot and hard. I couldn’t get it out of my head, not to mention other parts of my body. It was harder and harder to deny or to disguise these feelings, and my father and I both knew that, eventually, something was gonna have to give. Standing with my father to greet our guests wasn’t the place or the time, of course. But I did more than just greet passengers. More and more I felt like a chanteuse on stage, in shimmering, body--hugging gowns in the grand ball room clinging to my curves, smooth and womanly. Nothing was hiding, but I was still the captain’s daughter and I wasn’t about to take the stage looking like some hooker. Nothing was hiding, but little was revealed; just enough thigh to suggest that sweet treasure above, just enough view of the side breast to lock in the boys’ attention. I knew what I was doing, I couldn’t deny it. I was learning to play them the way Caroline did, little by little. Maybe we have more in common that I thought.
Chapter 2
Hutch
I rented the entire upper floor of the Miami Renaissance Hotel overlooking the Miami Beach and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. We shared a two-bedroom suite at the end of the empty hall, ignoring the weird looks we got from the bell staff, the room service waiters, the maids. I didn’t care to explain things to them, and I wasn’t about to.
We got up early and dressed, light and casual clothes specifically for the cruise. The slacks were light cotton, the shirts blouse and colorful, Blu’s dresses light and flowing. Walking into that dense Miami humidity, thick even in the spring, told me why everyone on Florida dressed that way, and I knew things would be just as dewy in the tropics, if not more so.
And between Miami and Bermuda, and then back, was an adventure we’d both been looking forward to, and one we’d both earned. But it had us both a little nervous, no reason to deny that.
Blu sat next to me in cab ride to the port. She looked around, her big round eyes nervous. She looked up at me, a miniature of myself, black hair and blue / gray eyes, traces of our Black Irish heritage. But she had her mother’s soft features and little nose, though she lacked her mother’s zest for life; or, to be more specific, she’d lost it.
I kept my tone of voice light, bouncy, filled with the excitement I hoped she’d catch. “I can’t wait to get on that boat! Waterslides, delicious food, movies and music and all the good stuff.” Blu nodded, but said nothing. I wasn’t surprised, and I was beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t just cancel the trip and go back to Beverly Hills. I thought, Maybe I should just score us a place on the beach somewhere, Malibu maybe? But the idea didn’t linger too long; ideas of that sort never did, even if they occurred to me more and more as the year progressed. No, I told myself, we have to do this, we have to get out of the mansion, have some kind of vacation out in the world. We’re going to do this, and we’re both going to have a great time!
The cab pulled us up to the port, the huge cruise ship waiting for us. Even I was impressed with its size, but Blu was more intimidated than excited. The cabbie drove us right up to the disembarkation station, our view of the ship interrupted as the cab slowed to a stop. I turned to Blu and said, “Okay, Blu, I know this might be a little bit scary, okay? So if you are a little bit scared, you can tell me.”
Blu nodded and shrugged, little shoulders arching up toward her tilting head, eyes downcast. “I guess I am … a little.”
“Okay, Blu, good, that’s good.”
“It’s good to be afraid?”
I set my fingers under her chin and raised her face to meet mine, her big eyes already glistening and moist with the sorrow that haunted them, forever lurking in her heart and her mind and her soul.
I said, “It’s good to be aware, Blu. I know this is our first trip since … since Aspen, but this is going to be different, nothing bad is going to happen to either of us, I promise you.” Blu nodded. “The only thing we’re going to have to worry about is having too much fun… ” I put my hand on my stomach, flat and hard. “I might have to do some extra hours in the gym after all those desserts.” They shared a faint, fleeting chuckle. “I’m sorry none of your friends could come with us.”
Blu’s eyes sank again, finding the bottom of the cab. “I don’t really have any friends anymore, Daddy. I’m too weird.”
“You’re not weird, Blu, not at all. It’s been a rough year. Maybe we’ll think about going back to regular schooling next year?”
“No, Daddy, no! Please no!”
I pulled her close, hating myself for bringing it up. “Okay, honey, okay, don’t worry about it. We’re doing fine with the home-schooling, right?”
“Right!”
“Just the two of us.”
“Right, ‘Zactly!” I let myself be amused, but only because it was easier than feeling my heart break yet again. I pulled her close, taking in a deep breath of her shampoo and youth, her body thin and gangly and light against mine.
My daughter, I thought, the best thing in my life, the only thing in my life. I’ll do anything for you, my little angel, anything to keep you happy, to keep you safe …
Chapter 3
Dana
I stood next to my father and Caroline in the reception lobby. I wore a breezy summer dress, which felt even softer compared to my father’s pressed white uniform and Caroline’s crisp blue blazer and white skirt. It seemed to me that she’d taken just a little extra care with her makeup or hair. I wasn’t sure what it was, but she was extra pretty. I wasn’t sure about the what, but I did know why.
I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. I’d done some research on him in what little time I had between the staff meeting and the guests’ greeting. And what I’d found had me stunned. It explained a lot about why this Preston Hutchinson had gone to such lengths to secure their privacy and protect their security. But it was such a horrific story, that chill running in my blood and I just couldn’t shake it. But I knew I’d have to before the Hutchinson family arrived. Sorrow and morose sympathy were not appropriate for the first impression aboard the commotion on the ocean, especially not in this case. The man booked an entire cruise ship exclusively for himself and his daughter, he deserved to be greeted with a smile. I just wasn’t sure I could manage it.
I was also worried, more and more as I made my way across the ship toward the lobby.
I wasn’t sure what to expect out of this man or his daughter. What kind of people will they be? If he’s got this kind of money, he’s going to be demanding, probably a chauvinist, used to getting whatever and whoever he wants. The kid’s probably a raging, screaming brat; not that I’d blame her for some of that, at least, given what’s happened to her. But are we all really going to have to spend a whole week catering to two billionaire slave-drivers? Well, I’m just the singer, I can always lay low or just stick to the stage. A girl’s gotta do her job, captain’s daughter or not.
Preston Hutchinson stepped into the reception lobby with his daughter, the two holding hands and smiling politely. He introduced himself and his daughter, my father introducing himself and me and our cruise director, Caroline. I was struck by how gorgeous he was. None of the few pictures I’d found online did him justice in the slightest. He was near to six feet tall, with broad shoulders and strong chest, all angling down to an amazingly small waste and strong, powerful legs. And his face, blue eyes like mine peering out from sculpted cheekbones and a strong, cleft chin. He was in his early thirties, and experience was beginning to show in the faint lines around his eyes, a furrowed brow holding back his deepest thoughts.
My father added, “Caroline will be showing you around the ship, taking care of whatever you need.”
“Anything at all,” Caroline said with a little nod, wavy red hair bouncing just a bit. Blu backed up, very nearly hiding behind her father.
Hutch looked her over. I could tell he was impressed with her, his eyes combing those shapely legs, sexy hips, breasts so full and round behind her uniform blazer. It wasn’t a cut that was meant to inspire a sexual response, but Caroline could make a potato sack look hot and Hutch seemed to know it. He looked me over too, with the same sexy, rakish expression. He asked me, “And what do you do around here?”
“Singer,” my father said, “with the show band, and she sings with Barry on piano in our beautiful crystal staircase cathedral, for our … romantically inclined guests.” Caroline glanced down, deliberately coy, but when she looked up she hit Hutch with a glance that was absolutely rapacious. She bit her lower lip, one brow raised. I half-expected her to jump on him right there and then, in front of his daughter and everybody.
But Hutch said simply, “We’d like to retire a bit to our quarters, unpack, perhaps have some breakfast.”
Caroline was quick to say, “Of course, Mr. Hutchinson, I’ll show you to our Presidential suite, make sure your bags are delivered immediately, if they’re not already there.”
“Please,” he said, glancing at me and addressing us all. “Call me Hutch.”
*
I was torn with conflicting emotions walking away from that greeting. On the one hand, I was relieved. Thank goodness he’s not some nasty blowhard, I reasoned, at least he’s not revealed that yet. And that little girl seems sweet enough, understandably timid.
But that only stirred up other feelings, and the more I thought about them, the more complicated they were. I was a little bit jealous of Caroline, I couldn’t deny it. There was a part of me that wanted to be the kind of person she was, so pretty and sexy, so at home in her own skin. Caroline was gorgeous and she knew it, and that was something I was only beginning to understand. Caroline was also so comfortable around strangers, so … experienced. At twenty-one, I was craving experiences of my own, more and more. But there were other things to consider. I was the captain’s daughter, that carried responsibilities. I represented him and he represented Oceania, which represented the whole Fantasia Cruise Line. I wasn’t about to trash all that just to cavort with some strange men, even if something inside me was screaming out to do it. That voice would go unheard by the rest of the world, at least for the time being, I was committed. That tortured plea was coming louder and more often, but it would have to go unanswered.
At least didn’t have too long to think about it. There would be plenty to keep me busy, and meeting with the band was only one place I’d be able to hide.
Barry sifted through some sheet music, sitting at the piano. “We could do the one the cricket sings.’”
Carl Sticks Simmons sat nearby, drumsticks in his dark chocolate hands, wrapping them against his long lean thighs. “Always Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide?”
“No,” I said, “I thnk he means, When You Wish Upon a Star.”
Eric Newton sat on a stool, electric bass in his lap. His hair was blond, like mine, but curly and short. He always reminded me of what The Little Prince would look like as an adult. He looked at me quietly with a little smile, turning away when my eyes met his.
Barry played the first few chords from memory, bass lines and melody pouring out of the big mahogany grand.
Also from memory, Dana sang, “When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who are … ” I paused, thinking I as waiting for Barry, but Barry was waiting for me, and for my little moment of melancholy to pass. “Everything your heart desires will come to you … ”
Sticks nodded. “That sounds great,” he said nodding, his dark brown head shaved completely bald, light bouncing off its curves.
Barry shook his head. “I’ll have to pull up the Frozen soundtrack … ”
Sticks chuckled. “I spotted Caroline talkin’ up our special guest. Instead of Frozen, maybe you should look up Molten … “ We shared a laugh. “I’ll bet she bags him, we’ll have to find ourselves a new cruise director. That’’s never fun, the new ones always try too hard.”
Eric nodded, glancing at me with his usual forlorn expression. In his early twenties, Eric could have his pick of the women onboard, but I knew he had a crush on me. I didn’t do anything to string him along, of course. We were friendly, I found his quiet company very pleasant. But he knew what my policy was, everybody in the band did.
But we weren’t talking about me. Barry shook his head. “I dunno, Sticks, that Hutchinson guy is a pretty big prey, I don’t know if Caroline’s got what it takes.” Off our skeptical glances, he explained, “A man like that can have any woman he wants, right? I’m sure he’s had his fill of brassy redheads.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I said. “Internet said the thing with his wife only happened a year ago. He doesn’t strike me as the cheating kind.”
“We’re all the cheating kind,” Barry said, Sticks chuckling; me, not so much. Eric wasn’t amused either, shaking his head and turning away. “Anyway, the guy’s single now, so there’s no cheating about it, it’s just … y’know, messin’ around.”
I said, “No I don’t, actually. You guys know I don’t … mess arou
nd.” Barry and Sticks traded a knowing glance, brows up, eyes rolling. “What, you don’t believe me?”
Barry asked, “Are you kidding? We work with you, Dana. and we practically live with you too. We know for a fact you don't mess around.”
“But if you ever did,” Sticks said, not needing to add more.
Eric looked at me and I caught his eye, his silent, moping stare saying everything about the way he felt, everything he felt that he didn’t dare say. I couldn’t deny that, if my policy had been a little different, I might have been interested in having a date with Eric. But that just wasn’t going to happen. Eric had accepted it, and I appreciated that.
“Excuse me?” The rhythm section and I turned to see Caroline stepping toward her with a slow, professional stride, hips carrying that dominating swagger. We all waited until she crossed the empty dance floor to the stage and fixed her green eyes on me. “It seems Mr. Hutchinson requests that you be the one to tour him around the ship.”
I couldn't help but repeat, “Me?” Barry and Sticks and Eric looked directly at me, each with their own questions and their own concerns. Caroline huffed and shook her head just a bit, like she couldn't believe I was surprised. But I could hardly believe what she was saying. I added, “We’ve got rehearsals — ”
“What you've got is a responsibility to this ship, her crew, and her captain. The guests request your company. They’re in the Captain’s Table for breakfast.” I stood there shocked, glancing at Barry and at Sticks, who only shrugged as if to say, I told you so. Eric’s head sank even lower on his shoulders, disappointment wiping the little half-smile from his face. But there was no more time, as Caroline’s voice snapped with unusual distemper, almost unheard of when speaking to the captain’s daughter. “Now, Dana, now!”
Chapter 4
Dana