Welcoming Seas
A Rowan Gray Mystery Book One
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Contents
Copyright
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
20. Twenty
21. Twenty-One
22. Twenty-Two
23. Twenty-Three
Mail List
Acknowledgments
Books by Lily Harper Hart
Copyright © 2016 by Lily Harper Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
1
One
“A storm is coming.”
Rowan Gray slipped a strand of her brown hair behind her ear and forced a smile. The woman standing in front of her was perky. There was no other way to describe her. Rowan wasn’t a pessimist by nature, but she didn’t do perky – especially so early in the morning.
“It looks sunny to me,” Rowan said, casting a pointed glance at the cloudless sky and gripping her suitcase handle tighter. “When is the storm supposed to arrive?”
The woman, her blond hair clearly from a bottle, graced Rowan with a welcoming smile. “That’s just a saying on the ship,” she explained. “The ship is called the Bounding Storm. The saying started as a joke, but now everyone says it.”
“Ah.” Rowan wasn’t sure how to respond to that tidbit. “I … um … will try to get used to that.”
“Uh-huh.” The woman didn’t look convinced as she looked Rowan up and down. “I’m Julie Callaway. I’m the cruise director on the Bounding Storm.”
“Seriously?” Rowan couldn’t stop herself from barking out a laugh. “You’re the cruise director and your name is Julie? I’ll bet you were a huge fan of The Love Boat.”
Julie pursed her lips. “Not really,” she replied dryly. “My grandmother’s name was Julie and I merely happened to decide I wanted to be a cruise director. It wasn’t some big plan. No one plotted it out or anything.”
Rowan clearly read the stiff set of Julie’s shoulders and couldn’t help but internally chastise herself. What a great way to make a first impression. She’s going to hate me forever now.
“I’m really sorry,” Rowan offered lamely. “You probably get that all of the time, don’t you?”
“Oh, that doesn’t bother me,” Julie said. “What bothers me is when people think they’re the first ones to think of the joke.”
“Oh, I … .” Rowan broke off, chewing her lip. “My name is Rowan Gray. I’m the new ship photographer. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go. The email they sent to me at the hotel last night just said that someone would be waiting for me when I arrived.”
“You’re the new photographer?” Julie’s eyes shifted from annoyed to intrigued as she looked Rowan up and down. “You don’t look like a photographer.”
Rowan had no idea what that was supposed to mean. “What does a photographer look like?”
Julie shrugged. “Middle-aged men with beer guts.”
Now it was Rowan’s turn to hide her annoyance. She hoped she did a better job of it than Julie. “I guess we all have preconceptions to overcome, huh?”
“I guess so,” Julie said stiffly. “I believe you’re supposed to get the tour from Sally Jenkins. The restaurant isn’t busy today because we don’t set sail until tomorrow. I’m pretty sure I heard she was the one assigned to you.”
Rowan could only hope that Sally was easier to get along with than Julie. If that wasn’t the case, Rowan had a feeling this was going to be a very long first trip. “Great,” she said, mustering as much enthusiasm as possible. “Where would I find Sally?”
“Right here.”
Rowan swiveled and found herself face-to-face with another woman, this one boasting bright purple streaks in her long blond hair and a sarcastic look on her face. She was clad in an ankle-length bohemian skirt, a good four inches of her wrist area taken up by bangle bracelets, and she had a genuine smile on her face. Given Julie’s forced expressions, Sally’s reaction was a welcome change.
“You’re Sally?” Rowan asked hopefully.
Sally nodded. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I had to head off a minor meltdown down in the kitchen,” she explained. “We’re out of crab legs and we need to make sure we get a full delivery before we head out tomorrow. I made a call and calmed the kitchen staff, though, so I’m all yours for the next hour or so.”
“What’s a cruise without crab legs?” Julie challenged, locking gazes with Sally. “People come on these cruises because they love seafood.”
“And that’s exactly why I made a few calls and the crab legs will be delivered in two hours,” Sally shot back, narrowing her eyes as something unsaid passed between the two women.
“Well, just make sure you do,” Julie said stiffly, smoothing the front of her crisp white shirt. “I’m the one who has to field the complaints when you screw up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sally said, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm before shifting her attention to the newcomer. “You must be Rowan Gray, right? I love your name. It’s very cool.”
Rowan shifted from one foot to the other. “Oh, well, thank you. Rowan is an old family name. My mother found it on the family tree right before I was born and said it just clicked.”
“Well, it’s definitely cool,” Sally said, gesturing with her hand. “I know you’ve been made generally aware of your duties, but I figured you’d want a tour first so you can get the lay of the land.”
“That would be great,” Rowan said, tugging her suitcase so it rolled behind her as Julie led her toward a set of wide double-doors. “I was here when I interviewed, but it felt a little overwhelming that day.”
“Is this your first time working a cruise ship?” Sally asked.
Rowan nodded as she followed Sally into the boutique section of the ship. It featured expansive hallways with marble floors, an impressive chandelier, and so many storefronts Rowan momentarily thought she’d wandered into a suburban mall rather than the heart of a cruise ship.
“I used to be a photographer for one of the bigger Detroit daily newspapers,” Rowan explained. “Newspapers aren’t what they once were, though, and I was laid off about six months ago. Most newspapers don’t keep photographers on staff any longer – and freelance isn’t a secure way to plot a future – so I was looking into going back to school before I came across the ad for the ship photographer job. It sounded intriguing, so I thought I would give it a shot.”
“Are you still planning on going back to school?” Sally asked.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Rowan replied, opting for honesty. “I signed a contract for this job, so no matter what the next year is set in stone. I figured if I didn’t like it, then I only had to make it through a year. If I do like it, though, perhaps I’ve found a new career.”
“That’s probably a good way of looking at it,” Sally said, swiping a keycard that led to a small hallway at the end of t
he boutique row. “This is the employee hallway. You can always tell because they have specific keycards. Your keycard is waiting in your room. I figured we’d start there and then work our way around the ship.”
“That sounds great,” Rowan said, letting out a shaky breath. So far she liked Sally a great deal more than she liked Julie. Perhaps this wouldn’t be half bad after all. “I’ve always heard horror stories about cruise ship rooms. Is it as bad as they say?”
“Yes and no,” Sally answered. “Your room isn’t big. It’s a bedroom with a small table and a bathroom. However, the ship is big enough to spread out on, and when we’re not running cruises and are traveling between launch points – which is about two or three days every week – you can spread out and no one cares how you do it.”
“I figured the room would be small,” Rowan said. “That’s why I only brought one suitcase.”
“It’s small, but it’s not unbearable,” Sally said. “Still … you’re not claustrophobic, are you?”
Rowan shook her head. “Why?”
“Let’s just say that living on a cruise ship takes some getting used to,” Sally said. “Our first stop is your room. After that, well, we’ll spread out. Something tells me you’re going to be a good fit … er, well, once you get used to your new reality, that is.”
Rowan kept her face blank even as her stomach rolled. What is that supposed to mean?
“IS IT better or worse than you thought?”
Sally’s face was unreadable as she stood, arms crossed over her chest, and watched Rowan survey her new digs.
Rowan, unsure how to answer, merely shrugged. “It’s pretty much exactly what I expected,” she replied, rolling her suitcase to the end of the bed and swiveling so she could better absorb her surroundings.
The room was small. There was no getting around that. The bed was a double – and on the smallish side at that – and it took up almost half of the room. A small table and chairs rested against one wall and an armoire cabinet boasted a television and drawers for clothing storage on the wall opposite of the bed. A small closet was located off another wall and a small bathroom completed the setting. The room’s biggest saving grace was a private balcony, though. Rowan could picture herself out there taking photographs of impressive sunsets. That made the room tip from tolerable to homey, in her opinion.
“I’m glad you like it,” Sally said. “A lot of people can’t take these small rooms and they’re the ones who wash out. Living on a cruise ship sounds exotic and fun to a lot of people – and it is, don’t get me wrong – but it’s a life that’s not without certain difficulties.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Rowan said, smiling. “I’m an only child so I grew up needing private time. As long as I can get away from others for several hours a day, I’m pretty sure I’ll survive.”
“That’s good,” Sally said. “I saw your file when I was talking to Quinn and Michael and they seemed impressed with your credentials. They’re keen for this relationship to work out because they think it will be a great benefit for every concerned party. I like when we get some new blood on this ship because talking to the same faces day in and day out can get old.”
“Who are Quinn and Michael?”
“Michael Griffin is the captain,” Sally replied. “He’s a nice guy … fairly gregarious … but he has wandering hands when he’s had a few drinks, so be on the lookout for that. He loves young women in bikinis.”
“I’m not much of a bikini person,” Rowan admitted, glancing ruefully at her pale skin. “In fact, I’m probably the only person on this ship who is not looking for a tan. I tend to freckle instead of tan.”
Sally snorted. “You’re going to get some sun, but if you need sunscreen we keep it on hand for the employees and you don’t have to buy it. Don’t worry about that.”
“And who is Quinn?” Rowan pressed. “You said Quinn and Michael were looking at my file.”
“Oh, Quinn is another new recruit like you,” Sally explained. “He’s been here for about four months so we’re still getting to know him. He’s the most popular guy on the ship … whether he likes it or not.”
“And why would he be interested in my file?”
“Quinn is our new head of security,” Sally said. “He’s the hot topic of conversation wherever you end up these days. I’m warning you now that we’re a gossipy bunch.”
“And why is that? I mean, why is he the hot topic of conversation? I understand about gossip. It’s like that at every job.”
“Because he’s ex-military,” Sally answered. “Most of the security people who take jobs on a cruise ship are either rent-a-cops or former military looking for something easy as they prepare for retirement. Quinn is quite different.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, he’s young,” Sally answered. “He’s thirty and has a body that makes most women – and some men – drool. He goes shirtless occasionally – only between trips, mind you – and he causes a flurry each and every time. I like to think I’m above those sort of things, but it is an impressive sight.”
Rowan couldn’t stop herself from chuckling. “That sounds entertaining,” she said after a beat. “I’m guessing he looks more like a model than a security guru, huh?”
“Um, not exactly.” Sally shook her head. “He’s got short hair … it’s cropped really close to his head … and he’s got one of those jaws that looks like it was carved out of marble. It’s all square and tough, if you know what I mean?” She waggled her eyebrows. “He’s also something of a loner. He’s not unfriendly or anything, but he’s not interested in the gossip and a cruise ship thrives on gossip.
“You have to remember this isn’t just a ship,” she continued. “This is like a floating city where everyone knows everyone. People don’t have secrets on the Bounding Storm. Everyone will find out your secrets sooner or later, and the reason Quinn is so popular is because he’s managed to keep his secrets.”
Rowan swallowed hard, her stomach flipping, and hoped Sally didn’t notice. “Secrets, huh? Well, I’m an open book. I don’t have any secrets. I guess that means I won’t be popular.”
Sally narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side as she looked over Rowan from head to toe. “Everyone has secrets, Rowan,” she said after a beat. “I have them. Quinn definitely has them. I’m sure you have them, too.”
“I think I’m fairly boring,” Rowan said, offering a nervous chuckle. “My biggest secret is that I prefer dipping pickles into tomato juice rather than eating chocolate or cookies as a snack.”
“And something tells me you’re selling yourself way short,” Sally said. “That’s neither here nor there, though. If you do have secrets, someone will eventually uncover them. Until then, I think you’re going to be a nice addition to the ship. Are you ready to meet everyone else?”
Rowan found Sally’s attitude odd but she found she really liked the woman so she didn’t want to risk alienating her by pushing an “I have no secrets” agenda. Sally was right, of course. Everyone had secrets. The only thing that varied was how big they were.
“Let’s do it,” Rowan said, grabbing her security keycard from the table. “I’m anxious to see my new home.”
“I don’t think you’re going to be disappointed,” Sally said. “Come on. I think you’re going to be the storm for the day – and, yes, everyone makes really annoying storm jokes at every turn. I can’t wait until everyone meets you. They’re going to lose their minds.”
Rowan stilled near the door, confused. What is that supposed to mean?
2
Two
“She’s cute.”
Quinn Davenport lifted an eyebrow as Demarcus Johnson shoved a mug of cold beer in his direction and settled with him at the antiqued driftwood table. Even though many members of the Bounding Storm’s crew found him to be standoffish and taciturn – which was by design – Demarcus refused to acknowledge Quinn’s cool demeanor and leave the man to mope by himself.
; Quinn couldn’t decide if that made him like or dislike Demarcus. It was certainly an interesting conundrum.
“Who is cute?” Quinn asked, leaving his iPad on the table as he focused on Demarcus. It was the last night before a five-day cruise and, per usual, the ship’s crew opted to party at a local haunt on the mainland rather than the ship. The Bounding Storm was right down the beach, though, so everyone could drink to his or her heart’s content and not worry about getting a ride back to the ship. It was close enough to walk.
“Her,” Demarcus said, inclining his head toward the bar. “She’s the new chick. The photographer.’
Quinn moved his eyes to the bar and watched as Sally and Rowan ordered drinks. They chatted amiably with one another, seemingly comfortable despite it being the introduction phase of their relationship.
“She’s okay,” Quinn said after a beat. His eyes roamed over Rowan’s lithe body, taking the opportunity to study her when she wasn’t looking. She was relatively tall for a woman – he would put her at around 5’7” – and she was physically fit with long legs and a narrow waist. She was dressed in simple cargo shorts and a tank top, and she smiled as Sally launched into some long tale that had the other crewmembers within hearing distance roaring with laughter. Rowan joined in with the other gigglers, although she looked unsure of herself.
“Okay?” Demarcus snorted, the setting sun bouncing off his mocha skin. “She’s got that naughty librarian thing going, man. She’s got those glasses that make her look nerdy and yet she’s clearly smoking hot. How can you say she’s only okay?”
Quinn shrugged as he forced his gaze from Rowan to the friendly head bartender. Demarcus got along with everyone and was never hurting for banter or conversation, which made his determination to forge friendly bonds with Quinn all the more baffling to the former military man. “She’s cute,” Quinn conceded. “There are a lot of cute women on the ship, though. I’m not sure why you’re fixating on the new photographer.”
Welcoming Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 1) Page 1