by Amy Andrews
A few years ago their friend Jamilla had been screwed over by a first officer and Tiffany had to be restrained from putting a cockroach in his dinner.
“No. Jesus, Tiff, take a breath.”
“You’re sleeping with someone, Kels. I know you. You’re a lousy liar. You’re slinking back to your cabin at daybreak and blushing like a virgin.”
Kelsey blushed again and those eyebrows rose in an I-told-you-so expression. Tiffany plonked herself down on the bed and patted the empty mattress beside her. “Spill woman. You know you want to.”
She did. Kelsey wanted desperately to confide in her best friend. She wanted to tell Tiffany about Ari, about this crazy hot attraction that flared like a torch every time she saw him.
Every time she thought about him.
Even now, her body awash with satisfaction from their night together, she craved his touch. Maybe talking about this insanity would give her the push she needed to exorcise him from her system.
Kelsey sank onto the bed beside Tiffany. “It’s not an officer or one of the dancers. It’s...a passenger.”
Tiffany blinked momentarily speechless. But she was never silenced for long. “Fuckin’ hell, Kels. Since when do you screw the passengers? I mean, me...sure. Been there, done that. Hell, I reckon half of us have at one stage or other but you’ve never gone there.”
“It’s only been twice. And it’s not happening again.” Saying it out loud was like the kind of finality she needed. Even if it did feel like a punch to her gut.
Tiffany grinned wickedly and clapped her hands like a kid on Christmas morning. “Oh my god, tell me everything. Who is he? What does he do? Does he have an enormous dong?”
Kelsey almost choked on her laughter. “You are incorrigible. And a terrible influence. You should be lecturing me about the perils of such a liaison. Hell, Tiff, you should be reporting me!”
“Oh fuck that lovie. I’m on team Kelsey and life’s too damn short not to get naked and horizontal at every opportunity.”
“I could get fired.”
“Only if you’re not discreet. Now...please tell me he’s exceptionally good at giving head.”
Another laugh threatened to strangulate mid throat. “His name is Ari. He’s Greek but he actually sounds very English. He was educated there and lived in London for a decade. He’s an accountant and has an inner cabin on deck seven. And yes –” Kelsey paused for dramatic effect. “The man eats pussy like a freaking ninja.”
Tiffany laughed and hugged her. “Go you! You’re practically glowing. How did it start?”
Kelsey gave the abridged version considering she had to get ready for work. About Andy and the wallet and the stolen money. “It’s been crazy, Tiff. And the sex...”
Kelsey didn’t know if there was a word in the entire English or Greek language adequate enough to describe the sex so she didn’t bother.
“And he’s interesting and kind.” The fact he got so riled up about Sameel treating passengers differently spoke volumes about Ari’s character. “And he’s so... tactile. Playing with my hair or stroking my skin.”
Kelsey had been surprised to find she liked being petted. It was crazy to think in a few days she’d let a guy she barely knew closer than any man had been in years.
“Well, good for you.” Tiffany squeezed Kelsey’s hand.
“We’re not doing it again. It’s too risky.” How anyone risked it, Kelsey had no idea. She was not cut out for this kind of subterfuge.
“I don’t care,” Tiffany said. “I’m still stalking his ass. You’re going to have to point him out to me. How old is he?”
“I...don’t know.” Kelsey laughed slightly mortified that she had no clue. It wasn’t like they hadn’t talked about deeply personal stuff. “He’d have to be early thirties I suppose. He went to uni and lived in London for a decade. He and his wife were in a car crash three years ago and she was thirty at the time so...”
“His wife? Divorced?”
Kelsey shook her head. “Widower.”
“Oh god.” Tiffany’s expressive eyebrows knitted close, her palm flattened over her chest. “That’s awful.”
“Yes.” Kelsey had been ten when her dad had died and that had taken a piece of her heart she’d never get back. “I’m the first one, Tiff. The first woman he’s been with since his wife.”
The frown on her best friend’s face deepened. “You’re his first? Since his wife died?”
Kelsey’s scalp prickled at the thread of alarm in her friend’s voice. “Yes.”
“Oh no.” Tiffany shook her head. “No, no, no Kels.” She stood and started pacing the cabin. “That’s a bad idea.”
“Yeah. I already know that. Against the rules, remember. That’s why we’re not doing it again.”
“No, I mean –” Tiffany stopped pacing and faced Kelsey. “You’re transition woman.”
Kelsey’s frown deepened. “What?”
“Men don’t fall for transition woman, Kels.” Tiffany folded her arms impatiently. “You’re...practise.”
“Tiff...you’re not listening. It’s just sex. And it’s not happening again.”
Her eyebrows almost hit her hairline this time. “Bullshit its just sex. You’re glowing, babe. You’re talking about how kind and interesting and touchy he is when usually you’re counting down the minutes until you can leave. Face it, babe, you’re...smitten.”
Kelsey almost choked. “Smitten?” That was preposterous. “Did I fall down a rabbit hole and land in the nineteenth century?”
Tiffany pursed her lips. “It’s the perfect word.”
“I’m not.” Kelsey shook her head vigorously. “It’s sex. Great sex, admittedly, but that’s it. And we’re done.”
“Oh god.” Tiffany gave her a hard hug. “You’re going to get your heart squashed.”
Kelsey laughed at the drama. “I’m not falling in love with him. We had sex, now we’re done. I’m going to be fine.”
She would be fine, damn it.
Breaking out of her friend’s boa constrictor like embrace, Kelsey said, “I need a shower and you - ” She poked Tiff’s chest. “You need a sleep. You’re clearly overtired.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Duly noted. Now go.”
The door clicked shut behind Tiffany and Kelsey breathed a sigh of relief. Transition woman? Tiffany always did have a flare for the dramatic.
Ari didn’t know how he felt as he left his cabin at nine for breakfast. He’d woken alone but feeling good, feeling happy and he couldn’t think why for a beat or two until the scent of Kelsey rose from his sheets and the taste of her lingered on his lips and he remembered drifting to sleep with her by his side.
How long she’d stayed in his bed he didn’t know, but her body had been limp and heavy against his and he was sure she’d drifted off, too. Two nights ago he’d been tense about her falling asleep and last night, it hadn’t even crossed his mind as his sated body had slipped into slumber.
He’d slept with another woman. And woken up with a smile on his face.
Which was confusing as fuck.
It wasn’t that he woke up crushingly sad and weighed down by helplessness any more. Even the boiling rage he’d felt in every cell of his body had passed. It was the absence of feeling that had haunted him for the last couple of years.
The numbness.
No joy or happiness. No excitement. No lightness or colour. No sadness or anger, either. Just him, flatlining his way through life. And then a girl – a woman – on a ship had put a cocktail umbrella in his whiskey and he’d come alive.
Ari couldn’t deny it despite how much his heart demanded he do so. He’d actually laughed when he’d seen that pink umbrella sitting on his vanity unit this morning. Laughed. It’d been a long time since he’d laughed in the morning.
A vice clamped tight around his chest at the thought of things changing after so long. It made him edgy and jittery and Ari shook his head and forced himse
lf to concentrate on the day ahead. On why he was here. He had a full schedule and letting himself be distracted by things he had no answers for wasn’t productive.
Today was a sea day as they steamed towards Santorini which meant he had a full day on board to poke around the ship. First port of call was a visit to the ship hospital with a bogus gastro-intestinal complaint to see if quarantine protocols were being followed.
Ari assumed they weren’t being rigidly adhered to what with the recent outbreaks of noro virus on several of their cruises. Given how fast the virus spread and the elder demographic of their passengers, it was not an area where cruise ship companies could be lax.
After he’d been to the hospital he’d check out the various activities run by the ship. There were several sessions of trivia and karaoke per day and a daily bingo game where some serious money could be won. There were a couple of lectures taking place in the theatre – one on the formation of the Greek islands by a geology lecturer and another about the gods and goddesses of Greek culture by a mythology professor. And a Martini making class was happening in one of the bars.
In short, he had a big day.
No time to be mooning over cocktail umbrellas, sexy Australian waitresses and psychoanalysing what the fuck was happening.
After breakfast, he headed straight to the medical clinic. The Hellenic Spirit was fitted with a state of the art mini hospital. Among other things there was an operating theatre, a fully equipped intensive care bed and a helipad on the top deck for medical evacs.
They should have been able to handle something as trivial – although just as potentially disastrous - as a gastro bug. Sadly, this was not the case as he reported his non-existent gastro symptoms right out of the noro virus hand book. Nausea, vomiting, stomach cramps, diahorrea.
It should have trigged the GE protocol Ari knew every ship had adopted. It didn’t.
Sure, the staff manning the clinic were brisk and efficient and professional but their recommendation that Ari rest in his cabin for the day, drink plenty of liquids and come back and see them tomorrow if he was still experiencing symptoms, were not stringent enough.
It should have been a medical order.
He should have been placed into immediate mandatory cabin quarantine with a member of the medical team ringing him to check in every two hours during the day and every four hours overnight. Both for his welfare and to ensure he was adhering to the quarantine protocols and not being his own one man Typhoid Mary band.
Much to Ari’s dismay, none of those things were insisted upon. Nor was he followed up during the day to ensure he’d been adhering to the recommendations. They had his phone number and had he not answered they should have gone to his cabin to confirm he was following the quarantine measures and check on his well being. Discovering him not there should have resulted in him being paged through the ships PA system.
He was not. And Ari was not pleased.
The activities impressed him, however and, by and large, most of what he saw throughout the day cheered him. The staff had bought their A game and all the passengers seemed in fine spirits. He made a point to chat to random people throughout the day, gently enquiring as to their experiences on the ship and they’d all been complimentary.
But that all ended at dinner. Once again he’d been placed at an entirely different table from the previous night. This one was nowhere in line of sight of Kelsey’s section - a very good thing for his concentration. The food was its usual high quality and the waiter on the table – Prishna - restored Ari’s faith in the Hermes training manual.
He appeared to be about the same age as Sameel but was polite, generous and efficient whilst treating everyone the same. There was no preferential treatment for the one American couple at the table – he treated all his customers as if they were kings and queens.
Ari made a note to add Prishna’s name to the list of staff members he was going to single out for praise.
Sadly the same could not be said for Jean Paul the suave, silver-fox maitre’d. He’d been scurrying around all night being generally smooth and charming, making the women giggle in faux outrage at his jokes and flattering male egos left, right and centre. But it was what Ari saw as he was leaving the restaurant that boiled his blood.
Distracted by the double whammy of pleasant memories and nagging guilt, as he’d been on numerous occasions today, he almost missed the incident and would have altogether had he not been forced to step around a group of people who’d decided to stop in the middle of the dining room for a chat. His diverted path took him close by the entrance to the kitchen which had been artfully disguised by a couple of large potted palms.
Because of Ari’s angle and proximity though, the plants did not mask Jean Paul just inside the kitchen door, pressing himself against one of the waitresses. The act was clearly unwelcome as she twisted her face away to avoid his lips and, when he groped her breast, she pushed at him, escaping his hold and scurrying out the kitchen through the door at the opposite end to where Ari was standing.
It took a few seconds for what Ari had seen to compute. To realise he had actually just witnessed a senior male staff member of great power and esteem assaulting a junior female member of staff.
At work.
With a restaurant full of people surrounding him.
A nerve ticked in Ari’s eye and a blood vessel throbbed in his temple. Gamoto. The arrogance of the man that he would do something so awful and so openly was stunning.
He obviously knew he could get away with it.
Rapidly prioritising his actions, Ari hurried to check on Jean Paul’s victim first. He spotted her darting out the main door. “Miss,” he called after her. When she didn’t respond Ari put on a burst of speed and called, “Miss,” again, as he grabbed her arm to stall her flight.
She turned, her big brown eyes large in her face. She was slight with a skinny arm and barely looked twenty. “Luzviminda,” Ari said reading her nametag, hoping he was pronouncing it correctly. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but her arm trembled and she reminded Ari of a scared little bird. “I saw what happened...back there, at the restaurant. That’s not okay.”
“Is fine,” she said her voice small as she forced a smile on her face that looked both miserable and petrified. “Nothing happen. I want no trouble.”
Ari eased his hand away in case he was scaring her more. “I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “I’m not trying to scare you. My name is Ari. Ari George, I’m a passenger and I saw what he did to you. You need to report it.”
Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Oh no.” She shook her head vehemently. “I just need break.”
“He’s not allowed to do that to you. I will report him if you don’t.”
Ari just couldn’t let this go, no matter how much poor Luzviminda wanted him to.
“Oh no, please...is ok.” Her eyes swam with tears as she appealed to Ari. “I can’t lose job. My family...they need money.”
And Ari would bet his last cent Jean Paul knew it, too. The blood vessel in his temple moved dangerously close to popping.
“Has he done this before?”
She shook her head again. “Please...I okay.” Then she whirled away walking as fast as she could from Ari and the dining room without drawing any attention to herself.
Ari’s fists clenched by his sides as his blood pulsed at his temples. That...bastard. That slimy, detestable sonofabitch. How could he do that to someone he owned a duty of care?
He wanted to storm into the kitchen and plant his fist right in that smug, silver fox face. And kick him in the balls while he was down. Give Jean Paul a full demonstration of how it is to feel weak and vulnerable and powerless. How it is to have someone touch you in private places without your permission.
But he knew if he went in there now and sacked him on the spot, threw his weight around, he’d blow his cover. Not to mention give that sleazy bastard a reason to launch legal action for assault if the urge to hit
him got the better of Ari.
So he did the next best thing. Luzviminda might not feel that she had a voice but he certainly did and Jean Paul’s days were up. Ari withdrew his phone from his jacket pocket and dialled Theo’s number.
The staff were abuzz the next morning with the news of Jean Paul’s sacking. Of course, the HR team didn’t say exactly why, only that the long time maitre’d had been let go after a passenger complaint of misconduct. He’d been dismissed forthwith and would be leaving the ship at Santorini.
The second in charge, a Venezuelan guy called Ramon, who was efficient, well liked and not sleazy, had been promoted effective immediately.
Kelsey glanced out the nearest porthole as she trekked to a table who had requested more coffee. The majestic spine of Santorini rose out of the deep blue volcanic cauldron in which it sat. The white washed houses dazzled in the sun, their iconic blue roofs like sirens to cashed up tourists.
The iron tracks of the cable car glinted in the sunshine and, at the bottom of the cobblestone road that zigzagged up to the village of Fira, donkeys and their masters waited patiently for the passengers that forked out for this unique mode of transport. It would be a good day with two other cruise ships also anchored nearby, waiting to discharge their passengers.
But Kelsey barely registered the vista. All she could think about was the stunning turn of events initiated by Ari. It was all anyone could think about really. Certainly all they could talk about between themselves as they went about their work.
Luzviminda had insisted it was Ari – Ari George she’d said over and over as her friends had hugged her tight earlier - who had been her advocate. Given how upset he’d been about the disparity of treatment a few nights ago, Kelsey wasn’t surprised that Ari would do something like this but still...who’d have thought one of the more rusted on members of the ships staff could be out on his ear so damn quickly?
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Tiffany said as they ate lunch together in the staff dining room.