Love on the Lido Deck

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Love on the Lido Deck Page 6

by Barbara Oliverio


  “Hi. I’m Brennan McAllister, your cruise director,” he said when he reached the front of the room. “Now, I know you might think I’d be too busy to attend to you, but let me assure you that this project is extremely important to the Ocean’s Essence, and we’re more than happy to have you folks on board to entertain our guests.”

  Hey, did he just take over my meeting?

  “I’m personally thrilled to have added Keira and Juliet to my staff, if only for a week.” He winked my way. “I know I can count on them.”

  HE could count on US? Why, this entire event was planned by us! I’ll wager he didn’t even hear about it until today!

  “Mr. McAllister,” began Arless.

  “Brennan,” he smiled.

  “Brennan. Should we check in with you after our classes?”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa.

  “Folks, all you need to do is follow the check-in/check-out procedure listed in your packets,” I jumped in, feeling a bit more flustered than I cared to. I looked out into the group to find Alex grinning at me. I felt thrown back to college days when we would go to fraternity parties and she would whip an unsuspecting jock my way and say “Haaaaave you met Keira?” and then walk away, leaving me on my own.

  I pulled myself together.

  “Mr. McAllister,” I began.

  “Brennan,” he reminded me with an even bigger smile and a boyish tilt of his head.

  “Brennan,” I shot through my teeth. “Thank you for joining us. We don’t want to keep you from your other duties. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give our cruise director a round of applause as he leaves us.” I grabbed his elbow and pointed to the door.

  He gave a quick salute and strolled to the door. While his newest adoring fans followed his every move, I pulled myself together and prepared to conclude the meeting.

  “Now, folks, are there any last questions before I turn you loose?”

  “Where’s the best bar?” came a voice.

  The crowd laughed.

  “There are quite a few of them on several decks of the ship. Take your pick,” I said. “Just be responsible, even if you don’t have to drive!”

  Chapter Seven

  “Um, Keir? Who’s the dish? He wasn’t on the menu.” Alex laughed at her own pun.

  Juliet answered for me while I ostentatiously collected leftover extra papers in the meeting room.

  “THAT is the cruise director,” said Juliet.

  “I get THAT, Jules,” Alex patiently answered. “But WHO is he to our girl, here?”

  They both plopped down in chairs in the front row, crossed their legs and arms, and blinked up at me.

  “He’s no one,” I answered, not catching either of their eyes, hoping to sound calm.

  Alex looked to Juliet for more information, but Juliet just shrugged and rolled her eyes innocently.

  “Keir?” Alex continued impatiently.

  I knew if I didn’t answer her, she’d continue grilling me and never let us get to dinner. So I sighed and began:

  “He came looking for Damian. Somehow he knew he was part of this group, and since this group is under my name, he looked for me to point him toward Damian. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Alex said in a tone that I recognized from many years of our friendship.

  “That’s ALL, Ali. You heard him. He’s my ‘boss,’ apparently.” I flicked my hair back over my shoulders. We’ll see about that.

  Alex turned to Juliet as if to cut me out of the discussion. “Have you ever noticed that when the Princess flicks her blonde locks back like that, she’s planning to go in for the kill on someone?”

  “I know!” Juliet bobbed her head. “She’s definitely plotting something here.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Silence from the peanut gallery. I could stand it no more and jumped in: “What? WHAT?”

  Alex calmly flicked a piece of nonexistent lint from her shoulder.

  “Keira, Keira, Keira,” she affected the tone of a much more mature individual than we both knew she was. “Don’t try to kid us. Mr. Blue-Eyes back there doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, does he?”

  I jumped up to sit on the table.

  “It’s just that, this event could be my big break, you know?” I leaned back on both elbows. “I can’t stand the thought of all my work”—I caught Juliet’s eye—”our work getting credited to some pretty boy just because he swoops in and claims it.”

  “Hey, that won’t happen,” Juliet said, not unkindly. “This has been a Keira Graham Events production from the beginning. I don’t think anyone would be confused.”

  “Keir,” Alex added, “don’t you think he came here because he has to make sure that it gets the stamp of approval of the cruise line for legal purposes? Didn’t you sign some sort of paper to that effect?”

  I pondered.

  “Well, yes. But for him to come in and say he’s my BOSS.”

  “Ah. That’s really it more than anything, isn’t it?” Alex said wisely. “It isn’t necessarily that you have to coordinate your movements with the cruise line. You can’t stand the idea of reporting to anyone specific.”

  She had a point. Ever since I started my own business, I was proud of the fact that I answered to no one but myself.

  “Come on, Keira, couldn’t you see he was just trying to get at you because he was frosted by your icy-green stare?”

  I leaned forward and pointed at her. “That’s the other thing. How did he glom on to calling me regal? I thought that was just something that we— What?”

  Alex and Juliet were laughing and snorting.

  “Keir, did you think that the Ice Princess nickname fell out of the sky way back in college?” Alex asked finally. “We love you, but anyone who knows you for half a second reads that don’t-mess-with-me ‘tude.”

  “Well.” I jumped from the table and tucked in my blouse. “I shall take my ‘tude into the dining room to enjoy supper with the rest of the family, thank you very much. You two are of course welcome to join, if you wish.”

  With that I strode away purposefully, aware that my exit only proved them right.

  “Where are Alexandria and Juliet?” asked my mother as I reached the large table in the formal dining room and took the empty seat next to hers.

  “Oh, I’m sure they will be here from the day care center shortly,” I quipped.

  “What? Day care?” Russ asked from the seat on the other side of my mother as he motioned the waiter to bring me bread. He hadn’t been around us and was not used to the snarky shorthand we engaged in.

  “Keira,” interjected Mrs. D’Ag from across the table, “how elegant this all is! I feel so underdressed.”

  “It’s okay, Mama,” said Celia. “You can see that most of the guests are casual tonight because all of the luggage hasn’t been delivered to their staterooms. When you read the daily Lodestone newsletter that gets delivered to your stateroom, you’ll know what the dress code is for dinner each night and come in the right clothes.”

  Anthony kissed his wife on the cheek. “That’s what I love about this woman! Never been on a cruise before and knows the dress code for dinner on the first night!”

  “Oh, Tonio,” Celia grinned, “I just looked it up on the Regal Cruise Line website before we came. We have two formal nights, three ‘smart’ nights, and one casual night.”

  “What’s a smart night?” asked Mr. D’Ag, scanning the menu.

  “Nothing Damian or Anthony is able to take part in!” Alex said as she sat down next to her husband.

  “You kids settle,” began Mr. D’Ag.

  “Or what, Pop?” said Damian. “You’ll turn this ship around?”

  We all laughed, and Mr. D’Ag shook his finger at Damian.

  “Look, Padre, you’re still my son.”

  “And he’s our priest,” interjected Mrs. D’Ag. “Damian, please lead us in the blessing.”

  Afterward, Mrs. D’Ag continued, “Damian, what’s this about you being the priest for the w
hole ship as well?”

  “Leave it to Ma to promote Damian practically to bishop,” whispered Alex across the table to me. I winked back. No matter what had happened in the meeting room, we were back to being comrades in minutes.

  Damian explained the circumstances to the table.

  “That’s marvelous!” said my mother. “I know I’ll be happy to attend Mass every day.”

  “One of the best things is that the crew will have the opportunity as well,” said Damian. “If there isn’t a priest on board, they can go for several weeks without the opportunity.”

  “Too bad Nonna isn’t here,” Cam said, referring to the late matriarch of the D’Agostino family and the namesake of the restaurant chain that he and Alex owned. “She’d love the fact that you’re able to do that.”

  “Oh great, that’s all we would need,” drawled Anthony. “One more reason for Nonna to prove that Damian is the favorite.”

  Heads at tables around us turned as we burst into shrieks of laughter and then into loving imitations of the late Nonna. I couldn’t help but notice that Russ was enjoying himself. I guess if he could hold up to a dinner with my adopted family, he couldn’t be that bad after all.

  Our table was nearly the last one to finish all of the courses, including double desserts for some of the guys. We conferred about plans for the next day, knowing that the next time we’d all be together would be at dinner that night.

  Juliet and I would be tied up with business the next day, but we listened and advised as the others discussed their plans for a day in Nassau.

  “Well, you kids can go snorkeling with dolphins or whales and such, but your mother and I are going to have a leisurely stroll around the city,” said Mr. D’Ag.

  “Pop! There aren’t any whales there and you know it!” Alex kissed the top of her father’s head.

  “Well, dolphins, whales, sharks, or guppies,” said my mother, “I’m with Marco. Russ, shall we join them and be leisurely tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely, Maeve.”

  “Pshaw,” said Anthony. “You oldsters take it slow, the rest of us are going for excitement. Ow! Celia!”

  He realized what he said after Celia kicked him in the shin, then said, “Sorry, Russ!”

  Now that was something we hadn’t counted on. If my mother continued seeing Russ, would he forever be too young to be with the “old crowd” and too old to be with the “young crowd”? I tried to peek at him from the corner of my eye.

  “No offense taken, Anthony,” he said with a grin. “I’m just not a dolphin man.”

  “Aaaanyway,” began Cam, always one to smooth out awkward situations. “It’s getting late, and if anyone is going to go a-wandering for any reason tomorrow, we need to get some rest.”

  We all headed in different directions, some going directly to their staterooms, some going for a late-night stroll on deck, and some stopping to listen to music in one of the theme bars.

  My plan was to head directly to my stateroom, but I was waylaid by two elderly women.

  “Excuse me,” said one, tugging at my sleeve, “they told us that you are the girl in charge of the cooking seminar.”

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s me, Keira Graham.” I smiled inwardly at the term girl. Well, I did probably seem like a teeny-bopper to these women who must have been in their late eighties. Both had neatly shorn white hair and were dressed in expensive resort wear. They reminded me of many of the doyennes at my mother’s country club.

  “Good,” nodded the one who had tugged my arm. She hooked her cane over her arm in a practiced move, opened her large tote bag, and pulled out a folder. “Well, Keira, my name is Elizabeth Grant and this is my sister, Rose. We registered for our classes, but Rose has a situation.”

  “Lizzie,” said Rose, “get to the point and don’t waste her time.”

  “I am getting to the point, Rosie. She needs to know the details.”

  This reminded me of so many conversations I’d had with Alex.

  Elizabeth turned back to me.

  “Rose has been put on a new diet and can’t eat a lot of sugar. Now, is it at all possible to change from these classes that are making desserts?” She looked doubtful.

  “Ms. Grant,” I began.

  “Oh, you can call us Elizabeth and Rose, dear.” Her smile was wreathed in the type of lines that a person only gets from a lifetime of smiles.

  “Elizabeth,” I continued, “we can certainly switch you around. Let me see here.”

  I found the appropriate folder on my iPad and scanned the demonstrations. I quickly deleted their names from the lists for the dessert classes and added them to two other classes that I knew would not be so sugar intensive. Then I wrote two notes for them with the new classes and my signature indicating that I had approved the change.

  “Take these notes with you to the new classes. Before you get there, I’ll let the instructors know that you’ll be added.”

  “Just like that!” Rose exclaimed.

  “I knew it could be done,” nodded Elizabeth. “Thank you so much, my dear.”

  “It’s my pleasure, ma’am.” I made a note to myself on the tablet to contact the new instructors.

  “You are as efficient as you are lovely.” She turned to her sister. “Rosie, doesn’t she remind you of that actress? Kim Novak?”

  “I was thinking Tippi Hedren.”

  I wondered when these ladies had last been to the movies.

  “No! I have it!” Elizabeth snapped her fingers. “Grace Kelly. Doesn’t she just LOOK like a princess.”

  Oops. Definitely my cue to leave.

  “Ladies, I appreciate the compliment, but I need to let you get back to your evening. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.”

  I shook each of their hands and continued on my way.

  Princess Grace. I was just glad the family hadn’t been around to hear that because I would NEVER have heard the end of it!

  I left the sisters and headed to my stateroom to unpack my personal belongings and organize the other half of the room into a proper office area. If one of the bloggers or chefs came calling early in the morning, I wanted to represent myself professionally. When I arrived at the stateroom, I was pleased to see that my luggage had arrived, and I noticed a small envelope tucked behind the identifying number on the door. Thinking it was one of the daily notices from the cruise ship, I waited until I had organized my room before walking outside on my tiny balcony to sit and read it.

  Luckily our level was well above The Commons Deck so other guests couldn’t hear me exclaim, “You have got to be kidding me!”

  “Keir?”

  I heard my name but didn’t know where it was coming from.

  “Keir, look to your right.” It was Juliet, leaning over her own balcony in her pajamas and slippers. “What’s wrong?”

  Since she shared a room with my mother, and since I didn’t know who else from our entourage was sitting on their balconies, I motioned to her to come to my stateroom.

  “Look at THIS!”

  I shoved the small paper into her hand when she walked through my door. She sat back on my bed and scanned it while I paced the length of the tiny stateroom.

  “Well?” My expectant voice was on the brink of impatience.

  “Well what, Keir?”

  I grabbed the paper from her hand.

  “Juliet, do I need to read this out loud to you?”

  “No, Keira,” she shook her head. “I am capable of reading it. I just don’t get why you are so upset about it.”

  I took a breath and began.

  “Our BOSS expects me to meet with him every day and give him a status report on how the event is progressing!”

  “Keira, I get it.” Juliet gingerly pulled the paper from my hand. “But, look, it’s not out of line when you think about it. He just doesn’t want to be blindsided by any guests who might come to the ship’s office with comments. At the end of the day, they are the ones who have a reputation to uphold.�


  I plopped down on the bed and crossed my arms. She had a point. I didn’t know every single one of our cruise director’s duties, but I did know that no matter what happened, everyone looked to him to make sure that all the entertainment ran smoothly. That was everything from the nightly shows to the daily trivia games to bingo and any poolside activities. It was a version of my own event planner job in a microcosm on the ship.

  As far as this cruise was concerned, we were a major attraction. If any one of the cooking classes didn’t go according to plan, the students wouldn’t blame the instructor or Keira Graham Events; they’d blame the cruise line.

  “Fine, Juliet,” I concluded. “That makes sense. But why do I have to meet in person with him every night? Can’t I just fill out some kind of form?”

  “I don’t know, Keira. Maybe he’s just a type-A control freak. Know any of those?” she asked the question pointedly.

  “Hey, was that aimed at me?”

  Juliet grinned, stood up and flicked her hair back over her shoulders. In polished tones, she began imitating my voice: “Jules, did you color-coordinate the notes for the Bremerton wedding? Jules, don’t forget to have the Reception Hall measure to see that the knives are exactly as far from the spoons as they are from the plates. Jules—”

  I stopped her.

  “Is that really me?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Keira,” she sat back down and put her arms around me. “I may have exaggerated just a skosh, but you are a tad controlling sometimes, don’t you think?”

  “You say controlling, I say well-organized,” I sniffed. “Where would the world be without order?”

  Juliet said nothing and smiled at me.

  Oh. It hit me.

  Brennan wasn’t out to get me, this was just his own particular way of keeping order. Why on earth did I take it so personally?

  “Don’t take it so personally,” said Juliet, reading my mind. “Just do the little report, have this little status meeting, nod and smile, and go back every morning and do things your way. You know that nothing he says is going to change your own meticulous plans, don’t you?”

 

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