“It was sooo nice to meet all of you, I do hate to leave so soon,” Godiva gushed as she hugged, kissed, or shook hands with the other diners at the Captain’s table. “I hope you all have a lovely voyage,” she said, ignoring Dexter’s impatience as he tugged at her sleeve.
He put his mouth close to her ear and said in a stage whisper, “As soon as Chili comes back from the kitchen, we really must go. I did tell you I had a commitment.” He pointed toward the main lobby. “I’ll go get the car and wait at the pier for you.”
Godiva watched as he crossed the busy room. When he neared the lobby door, he bumped into one of the waiters and briefly engaged in a heated conversation with the tall uniformed man.
Hmmm! First he rushes out like his pants are on fire and then he takes time to argue with a waiter. Godiva pasted a practiced smile on her face and waited patiently for her niece to emerge from the kitchen. Walking around to the head of the table, she gave Red a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “Thanks for doing this for the old folks.”
She bent down and gave her mother a hug. “Have a wonderful cruise, Mom. And remember, don’t get into any trouble!”
Flossie leaned forward in her seat and glared at her daughter through her thick spectacles. “Trouble? Really Godiva, you have no faith in me. What kind of trouble could I possibly get into on a cruise ship?”
Chili hustled to her aunt’s side. She looked around the table. “Where’s Dexter?”
“Godiva’s high-falutin’ boyfriend was in such a hurry he went to get his car. Almost knocked a poor waiter down in the process.” She sniffed and gave her daughter a pointed look. “Caesar never would have done anything like that. You should teach that man some manners.”
Godiva decided not to discuss her love life in front of a table full of famous people. She sighed, kissed her mother on the cheek and gave her uncle an extra hug, maybe because he kept quiet and merely shrugged at Flossie’s remarks. Taking Chili’s elbow, she said, “Are you ready to go now, Sweetie? Dexter really does have an important client and I think he’s already late.”
***
Red personally filled snifters of Courvoisier brandy for Grant Slammer and Clayton Coleman. The others opted to top off the desert with coffee or tea. The tall lanky waiter who had exchanged words with Dexter now hovered awkwardly around their table. Captain Pepper put down his glass, narrowed his eyes and said in an official tone, “I’ve not seen you before, young man. What’s your name and when did you start?”
The waiter shifted from foot to foot. “Morton, Sir, my name is Louis Morton. I’ve, uh, I’ve just come aboard. This is my first sailing with you, Captain.”
“Well, Mr. Morton, please go tend to the other diners. Mr. Wellington always takes care of my table, and I don’t think he needs your help.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. Mr. Wellington?”
All the muscles in Red’s face tightened as he struggled to keep his redheaded temper in check. “Yes, surely you remember Mr. Maxwell Wellington—the head waiter. Your boss!” His icy blue eyes bored into the nervous server’s forehead.
The man’s mouth dropped open, but he could not produce an answer.
Red’s face softened slightly. “Look, young man, perhaps you weren’t paying attention when Mr. Wellington briefed you on your duties. Your job is to take care of the other tables. Now hop to it or your first sailing on the Aurora Borealis will be your last.”
As he remorsefully scanned the table, Louis Morton’s gaze focused briefly on the huge gem resting on Lola Lamore’s equally oversized bosom. Then he backed away.
Grant swirled the brandy in his snifter before taking a sip. “I guess it’s hard to keep everything running smoothly on a ship like this, eh Red? I only have to worry about slamming the ball over the net and hoping my opponent can’t return it. But you have to keep all these balls in the air, so to speak.”
“Yes, it’s quite a job, Grant. When you have so many people working in tight quarters, you need to have a sixth sense. For example, take that chap. I just don’t feel right about him.” Red stroked his magnificent mustache. “The passengers on a cruise ship carry a lot of valuables. When I see a new employee hanging around my most distinguished guests and fixating on something like Lola’s exquisite necklace—well, my antenna goes up.”
The aging sexpot chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on him, Captain. Maybe he was looking at something other than the necklace.” She threw back her shoulders and struck a sexy pose.
Red looked around at his guests and smiled. “The lovely lady makes a good point. Sorry, I’m usually not this grumpy. Let’s have another drink.”
“Oy, Red darling, maybe you need me to read the cards.” Flossie reached into her beautiful beaded bag and pulled out her Tarot deck. “I never leave home without them, you know.” She pushed her glasses up on her nose.
Sterling let out an audible sigh and threw up his hands. “For goodness sake, Old Girl, put those back in your purse. No one wants to be bothered with your stupid cards.”
“They are not stupid, Sterling. You’re just an old stick in the mud. Why they’re—”
“Oh, I think tarot cards are really interesting!” The woman from the reality show twittered like a little bird. “Did you use them in your magic act? Red said you two used to be on the stage. I love magic.”
“No way. We didn’t use them in the act,” Sterling said indignantly. “We performed real magic, no fortune telling hocus pocus. Why, one time when my late brother Harry—he was the famous Harry Silver, you know—made Flossie disappear, I tried to convince him not to bring her back.”
That got a laugh from everyone at the table—even Flossie. She grimaced and put the cards back in her purse.
The handsome male reality star said, “I guess I don’t blame that waiter for staring at your necklace, Lola. It’s some hunk of ice.”
Her lips curled into a smile, she batted her eyelashes and looked in the direction of her good-looking husband. “A gift from my sweetheart.”
A very proper Mr. Wellington approached the table with fresh coffee, filling the air with its aroma. “More coffee?”
As the head waiter poured, Red said, “Mr. Wellington, about your new man, Louis Morton, please train him not to hover around people. He made me very nervous.”
Wellington appeared to be confused. “Mr. Morton? Are you sure of the name, Captain? I don’t recall a new hire named Morton.”
“I’m quite sure. I specifically asked for his name. He’s right over—”
Captain Pepper turned in his seat and scanned the dining room. Morton was no longer there.