Plan Overboard (Toronto Series #14)

by Wardell, Heather

  Plan Overboard

  Heather Wardell

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2014 Heather Wardell

  http://www.heatherwardell.com

  http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HeatherWardell

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and 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 person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should visit www.Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  Author's Note

  PLAN OVERBOARD

  Acknowledgements

  Thank You For Reading

  What's Coming Next?

  Also By Heather Wardell

  Book Description

  After a failed orchestra audition, clarinetist Corinne makes a life-altering decision. Months later, pregnant on her own, she meets playboy Austin on a cruise and a sizzling attraction sparks between them. But when the truth about her condition comes out, will Austin man up? Or will Corinne's hope for a future beyond a shipboard romance prove yet another PLAN OVERBOARD?

  Author's Note

  "Plan Overboard" is a direct sequel to my earlier book "All At Sea". You'll still understand the story here if you haven't read the previous book but you will definitely get spoilers, so if you plan to read "All At Sea" you might want to do that first.

  If you'd like to read all of my Toronto Series books in order, starting with my free novel "Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo", the "Also By Heather Wardell" link in the Table of Contents will give you the information you need.

  Whether you've read all of my books or are just finding me now, thank you so much!

  Heather

  PLAN OVERBOARD

  Prologue

  I am standing on the stage, glad my long skirt hides my shaking knees, awaiting the announcement. I can barely breathe. For the last two decades I have put everything I have into reaching this moment, and if I don't succeed I'll...

  As I realize that I have no idea what I'll do, or what I'll have in my life, if I don't win, the committee leader gets to her feet. "As you know, ladies and gentlemen," she says, looking around at her fellow orchestra members and the friends and family of the other finalists, "it's extremely rare for us to need a new clarinetist. In fact, this is the first time in the thirty-four years I've been principal clarinetist with the Toronto Philharmonic Orchestra that we have undergone this search. Before we announce the name of our newest member, I'd like to ask you to pause in memory of Doug Crosby, whose record of sixty years of orchestra service might never be equaled."

  I bow my head and try to look suitably serious, but all I feel is annoyance that she's dragging this out even further and gratitude to the man for passing away peacefully in his sleep and finally opening a clarinet vacancy in the orchestra. I know this is inappropriate but I can't help it. He had sixty years in the position I've been desperate to reach for twenty years, and now it's my turn.

  It has to be. The woman to my right, Tammy, told me tearfully backstage that she'd messed up on her sight reading exercises so was sure she wouldn't win, and the guy on my left, Barry, tore through the slow movement of the Weber concerto like his parking meter was about to expire. I didn't do any of that. I did it right. I worked so hard, I studied so many other people's performances, I made plans and followed them and missed out on so many other things in my life so I'd be perfect. And I was. I was note-perfect. I've been dreaming of playing clarinet in this particular orchestra since the day my dad took me to see them twenty years ago. I have to win. I just have to.

  Nora Drucker raises her head and continues to speak. "Doug was a great friend and I miss him tremendously. I know he'd be pleased, though, at who the committee has chosen. This person plays with amazing heart and elegance and will be a wonderful addition to the Toronto Philharmonic family. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present our new associate clarinetist..."

  My heart is going faster than Barry in the Weber and my lungs feel like I've played the entire Nutcracker Suite without taking a single breath. If I pass out, will they forget about me and go on to—

  "Barry Cavanaugh!"

  If she'd smacked me in the face with a tuba it would have hurt less. Fighting to hide my agony, I make myself smile and turn to Barry and shake his hand without digging my nails into it. "Congratulations," I say, trying to sound pleased for him but knowing I haven't come close to managing it. He's stolen my dream. I was perfect and he wasn't and somehow he won anyhow. And he's younger than me so waiting for him to die isn't much of a plan.

  "Thanks," he says, already looking past me. "And good luck in whatever you do next."

  I can't think of anything to say to this, and he's not waiting for a reply anyhow. He accepts his congratulations from Tammy, who looks as miserable as I feel, then goes to shake hands with Nora and her committee members and bow to the orchestra's conductor.

  Nobody's paying attention to me any more, so I stumble off-stage and gather my stuff and head for the door while biting the raw place on the inside of my lower lip where the clarinet presses my teeth against my flesh so I can't scream.

  That should have been me shaking hands and bowing. Back in grade four I saw the Philharmonic play "Peter and the Wolf" and fell hopelessly in love with the clarinet, and since then I've done nothing but work toward the moment when I would finally take my place in the orchestra.

  And now that moment has arrived, but for Barry. Not for me.

  Out on the street in the cool September air, I stand holding my clarinet case in one hand and the bag containing my audition-planning book in the other. I hate both of them right now. I've given them everything, scheduled my life full of practices and lessons and studying other people's performances, and for what? I am thirty years old. I have nothing in my life that doesn't revolve around clarinet. I have given the last two decades of my life to this one dream, and now I have nothing but calluses on my fingers and a bleeding lip.

  I have nothing.

  What the hell am I going to do now?

  Chapter One

  Six months after leaving behind the dream I'd been chasing for twenty years, I'm on a cruise ship hoping the seasickness band on my wrist will keep me from proving morning sickness can happen any time of day. My nausea has settled down in the last week but I'm not positive it's gone, and throwing up on my brother's sandals is not how I want to tell him I'm pregnant.

  Galen nudges me. "Doing okay, sis? I know, the ship's movement feels kind of funny when you're not used to it."

  I nod, and his friend Arabella smiles at me. "You'll be fine once we start doing excursions and stuff."

  Her friend Shari starts chattering with her about excursion ideas and all the gorgeous men they hope to meet, while Galen and his buddy Glenn roll their eyes, and I smile and hope it hides my doubts about the wisdom of this group vacation. I did want a break from everything, and the Caribbean cruise sounded perfect when Galen invited me to take the cabin of a couple who had to back out, but now I don't know if I have the energy to race around with everyone.

  Well, I don't need to. The only task in my planning book for the week is to relax before I start my new job with Galen's accounting firm's client Travis, and I can do that on my own. I brought several books I've been meaning to read, baby-related and otherwise, plus the six-DVD set of "Sex and the City", so if I'm tired I'll let the others go off on their own and entertain myself. I never had time to watch Ca
rrie Bradshaw and her friends when the clarinet filled my life, and when I saw the set on sale yesterday I couldn't resist. It'll be fun living vicariously through them.

  "Let Corinne plan at least a few things, okay?" Galen says, nudging Arabella. "Trust me, it'll work out. My sister's a planning queen."

  He doesn't know the half of it.

  After failing at my orchestra audition six months ago, I locked myself away in a hotel room for a week to figure out who I wanted to be, eventually emerging with my next three years planned to a level of detail the Canadian Space Agency would envy. I knew exactly which fertility clinic to go to for the child I'd realized I wanted, how I'd manage to raise him or her on my own, and how much money I'd need to save and how to get it. I knew at which online college I'd take an administrative assistant course to give me some valuable work skills, and where I'd apply to work a simple job for money while I studied, and which apartment building I'd move to after breaking up with my boyfriend. I planned out every step I needed to take, and I've been taking those steps every day. I'll make it all work out according to my plan.

  In three years I'll need more plans for how to keep living my life, but I already know one thing: they won't involve music. That life is over. It was obviously never meant to be mine.

  I sold two of my three clarinets because I wouldn't need them any more, and used that money along with some of my savings to get pregnant, but the coffee shop job I got turned out to be a mistake. On the first day, I realized that I hate serving coffee even more than I hate the taste of the stuff. Which is a lot.

  I stayed with the job because it fit the plan and gave me time for my studies but I've detested every second of it. Travis's former assistant stealing from his law office was bad for him but his job offer is amazing for me. No more serving coffee to strangers. I suppose I might have to make it for him but that won't be nearly as bad.

  Arabella starts to ask me what excursions I want to do, but before I can tell her what I learned in my research I'm cut off by the beginning of the muster drill for which we've gathered. "Good afternoon, everyone," a white-uniformed ship officer says in a booming voice. "Welcome to the cruise and to our safety demonstration!"

  Everyone on the crowded deck claps, and he smiles and says, "Look around and say hello to your new friends."

  Looking around as instructed, I see a tall blond guy, exactly my type, with strong cheekbones and a perfect sexy stubble. When my eyes meet his green ones something I've never felt before, far deeper and more electric than just recognizing a hot guy, snaps through me. I feel like everything inside me's been shaken up and has landed all wrong, but somehow it feels great.

  His eyebrows go up and he mouths, "Hello."

  Feeling my cheeks warming at what I think is admiration in his eyes, I return the silent greeting then make myself return my attention to the officer. The blond guy makes my stomach lurch in a far more pleasant way than I've been feeling lately, but a man is not in my plan no matter how he makes me feel. I had to change everything in my life to give up the clarinet, and breaking up with Clay was the most difficult part of that. I'm not ready for someone new. Plus, how could I start up with a new guy when I'm pregnant?

  For probably the thousandth time it hits me how weird it is that only the doctors and nurses at the fertility clinic know about my baby. Nobody else knew I had decided during that week in the hotel that I wanted and needed to have a child, so nobody else knew when it worked and nobody was with me when I sat at home alone overflowing with a mix of delight and sheer terror at what I'd done. A few days after the cruise I'll be three months along and ready to tell, but for now it's my secret.

  Assuming I don't barf at an inappropriate time and give it away.

  The officer finishes up his safety procedures explanation, to which I should probably have been listening although I did read it all on the website, and says, "You're free to go, folks. Enjoy your cruise."

  I can't resist looking over at the blond guy, but he's gone. Feeling disappointed though I know I shouldn't, I turn to leave too and barely manage to bite back a squeak of surprise.

  "Hello again," the guy says, holding out his hand. "I'm Austin, and you just arrived today."

  I take his hand. His skin is warm and it feels so good against mine. "Corinne. And you're right, but how did you know?"

  He smiles and gives me a half-handshake-half-squeeze before releasing me. "This is my second week on the cruise, and I don't remember seeing you last week." His tone is casual but I can hear "I know I'd remember you" in it and that makes me feel giddy and giggly.

  Galen steps forward. "Aren't there thousands of people on board?"

  Austin shoots him a glance. "Are you suggesting Corinne wouldn't be memorable?"

  I'm not sure I am memorable, particularly, but I love the idea that a guy like this thinks so. Galen fumbles for a response, and Austin turns back to me. "Where are you off to now?"

  "We were going to tour the ship," Galen says. Then he extends his hand to Austin. "I'm Galen. Corinne's big brother."

  They shake hands and Austin says, "Corinne's big muscular brother. I get it. I'll behave."

  A couple of about our age behind him laughs in unison, and he rolls his eyes. "I always get that reaction when I promise to behave. No idea why. This is my brother Nicky and his lovely wife, who definitely married beneath her, Mel."

  Mel, who looks familiar though I'm sure I've never met her, flips a wind-swept strand of her long brown hair out of her face and smiles at us. "It's Melissa, actually. And my husband prefers Nicholas. But Austin can't seem to remember any of that."

  He smiles at her, looking unconcerned, then turns back to me and says, "Why don't we all have a drink? We've been on this ship before and we'd be happy to give you a tour after if you'd like."

  Oh, I would like, no question. "Sure, why not?" I say before anyone else can answer, and Austin smiles and we all head off together.

  Out of the crowd and settled at the bar to which Austin brought us, seated beside him as I hoped would happen, I realize I'm going to have to find an excuse not to drink alcohol.

  Luckily, Melissa gives me one. She pats her stomach and says, "Just an orange juice for me, Austin."

  He winks. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten."

  "You're pregnant?" Arabella smiles at her. "Congrats."

  "Thanks. Fourteen weeks along."

  "Feeling okay?"

  She nods. "I was pretty sick at the beginning but I've been fine on the cruise."

  "Probably due to my soothing presence," Austin says. Ignoring Melissa pretending to throw up, he says, "So what can I get everyone?" and lets his eyes linger on me.

  "I'll have an orange juice too," I say. "I'm not much of a drinker so I'll stay sober with Melissa."

  He grins. "Nice of you. I am not so nice. What about the rest of you?"

  He collects everyone's drink orders, getting introductions done at the same time, then heads off to the bartender, and Melissa looks after him and shakes her head, smiling. "He's an idiot."

  Nicholas chuckles and slips his arm around her shoulders. "He sure is. Gotta say, you dodged a bullet there."

  She laughs and agrees with him, and Arabella looks back and forth between them. "I'm confused, but that's okay."

  Galen grins at her. "That's typical."

  Arabella smacks him on the shoulder, but not very hard.

  As I watch them, as always I wonder about them. They were friends for years, then somehow fell into a romantic relationship about a year ago. That only lasted a few months, though, before they broke up not long after my audition. I figured they'd never be able to recapture their original friendship, but to my surprise they've managed it. I can't imagine being that flexible; I've never even spoken to an ex after a breakup never mind tried to be buddies.

  Galen rubs his shoulder, and Melissa gives a mock sigh. "I'll tell you but you'll assume I'm making it up. People always do. So, Austin and Nicholas are half-brothers, and there's another one, Owen. They al
l have the same mom. Owen's the oldest, then Nicholas, and Austin is the baby of the family."

  "And loving every second of it," Austin says as he settles back into the seat next to me.

  Melissa rolls her eyes. "I was hoping to get this done before you got back."

  He laughs. "Of course you were. Let me, though. I'm a better storyteller than you are."

  Melissa and Nicholas both laugh at his joking rudeness and Nicholas says, "Who's got a top ten ranking on Amazon's horror list, you or her?"

  Austin flaps his hand at this and I say, "You do, Melissa?"

  She blushes and nods. "For my book 'The Smoke Monster'."

  I stare at her, feeling like I'm in the presence of royalty. "You're Melissa Berger? I love that book. I've got it in my cabin to read again. I'll have to get you to sign it later."

  She grins. "Really? You're my best friend ever."

  "Thought I was," Austin mutters.

  "Not even close." To me, she adds, "I'm Melissa Pressfield now, but I put the book out under my maiden name the day before we got married in October. I've got another one on the go and I'll do the same when that story's done."

  "Is anyone going to tell us this story?" Shari makes a pouty face. "I'm still confused."

  "Well, we can't have that." Austin winks at her, making her giggle, then says, "So Melissa here has had six boyfriends in her life, but three of them are irrelevant now."

  "Four," Melissa says with an innocent smile.

  Austin chuckles. "Be nice to Owen. Anyhow, it turns out that the last three were my charming self, Nicky, and Owen."

  Arabella and Shari make "ooh" noises, and I say, "Really? You dated all three brothers? And didn't know it?"

  Melissa laughs, nodding. "They've all got different last names so I had no clue. I actually came on this cruise last year as Owen's fiancée, ready to get married on the last day of the cruise, and when I went to meet his brothers, well, I found out I already knew them."