"No e-mail on board," Dante said.
"You're kidding!" Lex couldn't believe it. "This is a nerd cruise! How can they not provide Internet access?"
"According to the person I asked, that's exactly why," Dante said. "They want the nerds to pair up. If they gave them Internet access, they'd all be glued to the computers and wouldn't take part in any of the activities."
"Okay, then." Lex turned to Gillian. "Looks like the phone is your only option, but I wouldn't rush into it. You have plenty of time. In fact, I have a great idea. Let one of us make the call on the way back, after you're safely off the ship."
"No." She was trying to seem brave, but she began to tremble. "I should do it. And the longer I wait, the more chance Neil has to get away."
"You can let it go until tomorrow, I think,'' Cora said. "That gives us all time to get our sea legs and scope out the situation."
Gillian visibly relaxed. "Okay. But tomorrow, for sure."
"Right," Cora said. "Now then, I believe we were talking about karaoke! And the person from our group who should sing is Gillian."
Gillian choked. "Me? I don't do karaoke."
"Norma Jean would," Cora said. "You don't want to look like a scared mouse running from the Mob because you saw someone murdered. You want to look as if you don't have a care in the world. That way, if anyone has followed you on board—"
"The guy in the black sedan tailed them on the freeway," Dante said. "But Lex lost him in traffic."
Cora's gaze fastened on Lex. "Are you sure you lost him?"
"I lost him, all right." Lex knew that wasn't the whole story, though. "But if Adamo's guys have my car identified, which it looks as if they have, then someone else could have come along later. I didn't see anyone follow us into the parking lot, but they might have been cagier this time."
"True." Cora took a deep breath. "At this point we don't know what to expect. The secret is for one of us to stay with Gillian at all times, and Gillian, you should keep to the well-populated areas, which is another reason to go to the karaoke bar before dinner, and forget about this ship-to-shore business for now."
"She's right," Lex said. "But if you don't like to sing, then—"
"I like to sing. But I confine it to the shower." Dante grinned. "Then pretend you're in the shower. But keep your clothes on."
Now Lex had to deal with a new image—Gillian wet and naked while she sang in the shower. He was in so much trouble it wasn't funny.
"Then it's settled," Cora said. "Gillian, you can do this. Be Norma Jean."
"I'll try."
"That's the spirit." Cora consulted her schedule. "After karaoke is dinner, and we'll be seated at a table for eight, so we can find out something about the others assigned to that table."
"And I shouldn't have to mention that we all have to be careful what we say about ourselves." Lex directed his comment mostly at Dante.
"Hey, I can be discreet. I went to PI school, you know."
"Dante won't let us down, will you, Dante?" Cora peered over at him.
"Nope."
"Good. Now, back to the schedule. After dinner is a starlight trivia contest up on deck, with guest lecturer Dr. Benjamin Lawrence, retired professor of astronomy at UCLA. Here's what the brochure says about him." Her voice softened. "A distinguished scholar, Dr. Lawrence received his bachelor's and master's degrees from Stanford and his doctorate from UCLA. Prior to his retirement, he headed up a special research unit in Chile and has published several books in his field, including—"
"Uh, Cora?" Dante tapped her on the shoulder.
"What?"
"We don't really need to know all of that stuff."
"You most certainly do! I want your opinion about him. Does he sound like a good candidate?"
Lex tried not to laugh and only managed to sound emotionally choked up. "Why would you want our opinion?"
"Aw, Lex, you're such a darling. I'm touched that you're touched. And I want your opinion because I have no family to consult, and I don't want to make a bad decision because I get carried away by hormones."
Lex didn't trust himself to speak for fear he'd blow it and start grinning at the concept of Cora getting carried away by hormones. Not that he didn't think it was possible, but it made him smile, and she might not appreciate that.
Fortunately, Gillian was on the job. "You think that might happen?" she asked, her tone properly serious.
"I most certainly do. There was a picture of him in the cruise brochure, and he's a hunk. I've been dreaming about him for weeks, and I've already worked up a serious case of lust. The man is a god, but he could also be hell on women. I'm trying to decide if all those degrees mean anything."
"They mean he went to school a lot," Dante said. "I don't think they're any guarantee of faithfulness." He put his arm around Cora. "Don't worry, babe. We've got your back. We won't let you fall for a scoundrel. I'll ask him what his intentions are."
Cora laughed. "Don't you dare! But I wouldn't mind you having a man-to-man talk with him sometime and find out if he's worth the time and trouble for me to beat off all the others who will be going after him."
"I'll do that," Dante said, nodding solemnly.
"I have no doubt I can get him," Cora said. "I just want to know my chances of keeping him."
NANCY ROTH BREEZED THROUGH CHECK-IN, BUT THEN Neil knew she would. Her passport was perfect. Pulling Nancy's Louis Vuitton rolling bag behind him and wearing the adorable shoes he'd found on sale at Nordstrom today, he located the elevator and rode the short distance to D Deck. That put him too close to the waterline for comfort, but his roommate was obviously strapped for cash and had taken the cheapest thing she could get
With a sense of foreboding, he made his way to the cabin at the far end of the long corridor. He was heading astern, which meant the room had to be almost on top of the ship's engines. Only the crew had it worse than this. Thank God these substandard accommodations were only temporary. Nancy loathed deprivation.
As he inserted the key card in the slot the door swung open.
A very thin girl with extremely thick glasses stood mere smiling shyly. She wore khaki shorts, a plaid blouse, and her hair was long, straight and plain brown. Her face was totally devoid of makeup.
Neil tried not to stare, but in his world, nerds were a rarity. This was a cruise, for God's sake! Where were this girl's party clothes? And letting her hair do that dopey dangle thing was criminal. Neil's fingers itched for a blow-dryer and styling gel.
"You must be Nancy," she said.
"Yes, I most certainly am!" Neil flashed Nancy's best smile outlined in Manhunter Mauve, Nancy's favorite lipstick. "And you must be Bernice."
"Call me Bernie." The girl held out her hand.
Neil took note of fingernails filed short and an absence of jewelry. What a hopeless case. But he needed to bond with this creature who was so completely different from Nancy's flamboyant persona. He'd never shortened Nancy's name, but now seemed like the time. "Call me Nance," he said.
"Great, Nance!" Bernie's handshake was firm. "I'm glad you're here. It makes the cruise more affordable." Then she blinked, as if realizing that might sound rude. "And the company will be wonderful, too, of course."
"I know! Too much fun. It's like a slumber party!" Careful not to roll his eyes, Neil pulled Nancy's suitcase into the itty-bitty room.
Bernie backed up, edging her way through the narrow space between the end of the twin beds and the dresser. Then she sat on her bed and smiled at him.
Just his luck, he was rooming with a nice girl. It was enough to make a person barf. She'd probably never met a cross-dresser in her life. If he'd been lucky enough to draw a swinger, he might have considered revealing his secret. But Bernie looked like the kind of person who would run screaming down the hall, which was not what he was going for.
Neil had taken Nancy on a few cruises, but he hadn't realized they made cabins this small. Or maybe it was the gigantic basket of fruit, cheese, and wine sitting on the
minuscule dresser that made the room seem even tinier. "Did this come with the room?" he asked. If so, he would rather have a larger cabin and a smaller basket.
"It's for you. You must have a secret admirer."
Neil's professionally waxed eyebrows lifted. "For moi! This is a surprise." Resting the rolling bag on end, he opened the small envelope tied with ribbon to the basket handle and pulled out the card inside. "Welcome to the Sea Goddess. What do you say we enjoy some of this wine together later, in my cabin? Best, Jared."
Shit. One little mention of spanking and Jared was delivering giant fruit baskets and expecting a rendezvous in his cabin ASAP. Neil tapped the card against his chin and tried to think how he could put the brakes on this runaway train. He wouldn't mind a small dalliance, but from the size of this basket Jared hoped for something large and decadent. Neil didn't have that kind of time.
"You don't look very happy about the basket," Bernie said.
Neil sighed dramatically. "Oh, you know how it is when someone is very enthusiastic and you're... not."
"Actually, I don't know too much about that." Bernie looked forlorn. "I'm usually the enthusiastic one who doesn't get the time of day."
"Oh." Neil weighed his options. He wanted to look over the ship, but he couldn't start planning anything for sure until he'd identified Gillian McCormick. That couldn't happen until passengers started to mingle at the captain's cocktail reception at five.
He had about an hour to kill, and what better way to kill it than bonding with his roomie? In order for him to keep his identity a secret and promote his plan, he needed a roommate who would forgive him long sessions in the bathroom and comings and goings at strange hours of the night. Basically, he needed a roomie who was indebted to him.
Replacing the card in the envelope, he sat on the edge of the other twin bed. "Bernie, would you be offended if I gave you a few teensy-weensy suggestions to improve your look?"
Bernie's eyes grew round with surprise. "You would do that?"
"Why not? We're roomies, aren't we? That's what roomies do."
"Not the roomies I've had! We all told each other we didn't care about superficial things like hair and makeup. Then a couple of my best friends went the lesbian route, but that's so not me. I'm twenty-six, and I want a boyfriend. But I don't have the first idea what to do with myself to get one."
"Honey, you've come to the right place."
"I can see that." Bernie's glance was admiring. "You have it together."
Yes, he did. And taped and tacked, besides. "I think we should start with your name. What's your full name?"
"Bernice June Thigpen."
Neil swallowed a laugh. No wonder this poor girl couldn't get a date. She'd been marked from the day she was born. "Would you consider going by June instead of Bernie?"
"I don't feel like a June."
"Okay, do you feel like a BJ?"
Bernie's expression brightened. "Maybe, a little bit. Except I don't look like a BJ."
"Don't worry, sweetie. By the time I get finished, you will look exactly like a BJ."
AFTER LEX AND DANTE LEFT TO SETTLE INTO THEIR cabin and get ready for the cocktail party, Gillian turned to Cora. "I don't know if I can do this karaoke thing or not. I'm basically an introvert."
"Marilyn used to be scared, too." Cora patted Gillian's arm. "In fact, I don't admit this to very many people, but when I was on Broadway, I would throw up before every performance. Lots of actors and singers do. Look at Streisand. She's petrified of going out in front of that audience."
"But that's how they made their living. They had to. You had to. I don't have to."
"I think you do." Cora met her gaze. "You have some big challenges ahead, and the only way you're going to meet them is to believe you can do anything. I know singing karaoke scares you. So much the better. Conquer that and you'll be stronger, ready for the next test that comes your way."
Gillian couldn't counter that argument. What Cora said was true enough. "Damn Neil for killing Theo and ruining my life," she muttered.
"That would fall into the water-under-the-bridge category, now wouldn't it? What do you say we get ready for the cocktail party? I brought a dynamite red dress for you to wear."
"You brought clothes for me? But I have plenty in that rolling bag. I really don't need more."
"I know you didn't think so." Cora walked to the room's only closet situated right across from the small bathroom. "So I made some decisions for you. I couldn't possibly wear everything I crammed into that giant suitcase." She opened the closet door and pulled out a red chiffon cocktail dress. "Try this on. It'll give you karaoke courage."
Gillian hesitated. Once she took that dress, she'd have committed to becoming a blond bombshell tonight, one who would walk up to that karaoke stage as if she knew what the hell she was doing. But the dress was beautiful.
"Go ahead." Cora held out the dress. "You know you want to."
"You're turning me into a wardrobe junkie."
"And I'm loving it. I never had a daughter or a granddaughter to play dress up with. Let's go out there looking like a couple of divas. If you'll do my makeup, I'll do yours."
Gillian couldn't back down from the challenge in Cora's bright eyes. "You're on."
"That's my girl. We'll do makeup first, then hair, then put on our finery." She whipped a dress out of the closet that looked as if it were made of spun gold. "This is my ammunition for Dr. Benjamin Lawrence." "Nice."
"I hope he thinks so. I want to conquer him first, ask questions about his moral character later. I do hope that he— What's that noise?"
"Your walkie-talkie?"
Cora grabbed it off the bed and clicked a button. "Screen Goddess, here."
"Screen Goddess, this is Italian Stallion."
"Yes, yes. I know who it is. What do you want?"
"We're standing here in bow ties and really ugly jackets. I know this is part of the assignment, but I don't know if I can appear in public like this. I'm thinking we could at least— Hey! I'm talking on this thing, Lex! Don't—"
"Cora? This is Lex. Ignore the pansy-ass. If Gillian can sing karaoke, then we can dress like dorks."
After some crackling that indicated a struggle over the walkie-talkie, Dante came back on. "I didn't say I looked like a dork. I'm just not quite as cool-looking as usual. And I wondered if we could leave off the bow ties. Over."
Cora spoke into her walkie-talkie. "I think the bow ties are a nice touch, Dante. Over."
More static indicated that Lex had resumed control. "We're wearing the bow ties, Cora. No worries. Over."
"I admire your can-do spirit, Lex. By the way, Gillian is definitely singing karaoke. Wait till you see her in the red dress I brought for her. Over."
Lex's rich baritone seemed to fill the tiny cabin. "I can hardly wait Over and out" The walkie-talkie was silent.
Gillian rubbed her arms, which were covered with goose bumps from listening to Lex on the walkie-talkie.
"I guess that's another reason I need to do whatever it takes," she said. "Everyone else is stepping out of their comfort zone to help me. The least I can do is prove I'm worthy of the effort."
"You don't have to prove that," Cora said. "We already know you're more than worth the effort. But stepping out of your comfort zone will serve you in the long run."
"Right." Gillian escaped into the bathroom. She was picturing herself in front of the microphone, and she had the strongest urge to throw up.
Nine
LEX HAD TO ADMIT THE WALKIE-TALKIES WERE Useful. He refused to use the stupid code names that Dante thought were so cute, but he liked the idea that he could radio either Cora or Gillian whenever he wanted to. Yes, they could have telephoned Cora's cabin to find out if the women were ready to head down to the cocktail party, but using the radio was a good habit to get into.
He'd been forewarned about Gillian's red dress and thought he'd steeled himself against displaying any emotion when she appeared. But the minute she walked into
the corridor on impossibly high heels, he heard the sound of his quick breath. She'd probably heard it, too. Well, she might have expected a reaction like that, considering the dress and the woman in it.
Or rather, the woman who was partly in it. The neckline revealed more than it concealed, and the hemline showed a generous amount of knee. He had to work hard to keep his gaze focused at a gentlemanly level. He could guess that Dante was ogling, and he didn't want to look at his partner and confirm that fact, because then he'd have to smack him Worse yet, they were about to enter a roomful of people, and logic told him that about fifty percent of them would be male.
"Does that come with some sort of jacket?" he asked as the four of them stood in the corridor assessing each other's choice of clothing. He'd rather she put on an overcoat, but that was probably asking too much. He was so preoccupied with Gillian's dress that he'd forgotten about his ludicrous bow tie and ugly brown tweed jacket. Dante's green plaid jacket was worse, though.
"I'd be happy to give her my jacket," Dante said. "I'm willing to go with the short-sleeved shirt I have on under it. Bad as it looks, the jacket's worse."
Cora gave a little huff of disapproval. "No one is covering her up. Our Gillian is gorgeous."
"I didn't say she wasn't." Lex wouldn't have stopped with gorgeous, either. He'd have added stunning, and breathtaking, just for starters. She was, as they used to say in the old days, a knockout. And he was mentally down for the count. "I only thought she might be cold."
"Lexter, she is the exact opposite of cold," Dante said. "Gillian, that's a great look. I don't really want to spoil it with my jacket. I was selfishly trying to improve my look, but as that's a hopeless cause, we might as well proceed to this cocktail party. Considering the way we look, nobody will believe a couple of babes like you showed up with a couple of losers like us."
"I keep trying to tell you," Cora said as they walked down the hall toward the elevators. "Women are less concerned about looks these days. They want a man who has some ingenuity in the bedroom, and a nerd—"
Nerds Like It Hot Page 9