9

A Dinner Invitation

When Shy returned to his towel stand, he apologized to the small group of people that had gathered there. He ducked under the counter, handed out a few fresh towels, a dart set, a pack of cards, a Game Boy. He had everyone sign the checkout sheet on his clipboard with their cabin number.

He looked up as the last person in line stepped forward—one of the girls he’d just seen checking out the oilman’s ring. “We need stuff for Ping-Pong,” she said, pointing over her shoulder. Standing a few yards behind her was the other high-school-aged girl and the man with gray hair.

“Let’s get you guys set up,” Shy said, reaching into one of the drawers in front of him. He grabbed three paddles and a pack of Ping-Pong balls, handed them to her over his stand. “Best paddles we got right here. Just took them out of the package yesterday.”

She didn’t even look at them, just gave a bored expression and said: “Do I have to, like, sign my name or something?”

Shy pointed at the sign-in sheet, watched her pick up the pen and write her name. Addison Miller.

She was even prettier up close. Straight blond hair down past her shoulders. Light-green eyes. A few scattered sun freckles on the bridge of her nose and along her cheeks. Strange how a pretty girl’s face could instantly put Shy in a better mood.

“So, you any good?” he asked, motioning toward the paddles.

She frowned like his question was the lamest thing she’d ever heard. “We’re only playing because my dad’s making us.”

Before Shy had a chance to respond, a floppy-haired kid stormed up to the stand, saying: “Hey, asshole!”

Shy looked down at him. “Excuse me?”

“What, are you deaf?” he said in his squeaky little voice. “I called you an asshole. I just came over to get stuff and you weren’t here.”

The kid was maybe ten years old and rail thin. Hair hanging over his eyes. He looked like a damn Muppet.

Shy forced a smile even though he wanted to toss the kid into the pool. “Sorry ’bout that, little man. But I’m here now. So, what can I do for—?”

“Don’t call me ‘little man’ either,” the kid snapped. “Just because I’m young doesn’t mean you can disrespect me.”

Shy was speechless.

The gray-haired man suddenly appeared, saying: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What seems to be the trouble over here?”

The kid pointed a finger at Shy and barked: “This asshole’s not doing his job.”

Shy no longer wanted to toss the kid in the pool, he wanted to pin his little Muppet head against the towel stand.

The gray-haired man smiled at Shy. “This one’s got a mouth on him, doesn’t he? What do you think”—he glanced at Shy’s name tag—“Shy. Do we push him overboard?”

The blond girl rolled her eyes at her dad.

“Maybe we do, sir,” Shy said, trying to play along.

The kid cursed under his breath again, then said: “Just give me a stupid golf club and a ball.”

The other girl was there now, too, looking entertained as she ran her fingers through her long black hair.

Shy turned to open the closet behind him, saying: “Let’s see what we can do for you, money. Ah, here we go.” He handed over a slightly bent club and the most nicked-up golf ball he could find. “This should be perfect for you.”

The kid inspected the ball with a disgusted look on his face, but he didn’t say anything. Just turned and started up the stairs behind him, toward the Recreation Deck, where the miniature golf course was.

Soon as the kid was out of sight, the gray-haired man held out his hand to Shy, said: “Jim Miller.”

Shy shook hands with him. “Shy Espinoza. Thanks for stepping in with that kid.”

“Somebody had to,” he said. “You’ve already met my daughter Addison. And this is her friend Cassandra.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Shy said, giving them a proper Paradise smile.

Cassandra flipped her hair from one shoulder to the other and popped her gum. Addison rolled her eyes again. Shy could tell neither of them wanted any part of this conversation.

“So?” Addison said, tilting her head at her dad. “Are we going?”

But her dad was still grinning and staring at Shy.

Addison grabbed her dad’s arm and started pulling him away, saying: “You’re the one who wanted to play this stupid game in the first place.”

“Wait, I have an idea,” the man said, turning to the girls. “You guys keep complaining that there’s no one your age on the ship, right? Well, Shy is.”

The girls looked at each other with exaggerated frowns. “Uh, he works here,” Cassandra said, like the thought of hanging out with anyone on the crew was absurd.

“What does that matter?” the man said. “Tell you what, I think we should invite the young man to dinner with us.”

“Ew, Dad,” Addison said. “You’re being really creepy.”

“It’s okay, sir,” Shy interjected—because he didn’t want any part of this either. “I actually don’t think we’re allowed to—”

“I insist,” the man said. “You’ll join the three of us for dinner. A couple nights from tonight, soon as I get back from the island. If you’re scheduled to work I’ll speak to the captain myself, get everything squared away.”

Shy just stood there, grinning. What island? he wondered. Hawaii? Weren’t they all going there together?

The girls were now shooting dirty looks at the man. They didn’t want to eat with Shy, and Shy didn’t want to eat with them. The math seemed simple enough. But this guy was strangely persistent.

“I’ll have someone notify you where to be,” the man said.

“God, Dad,” the blonde said, “you’re totally embarrassing yourself.” She finally managed to pull him away from Shy’s towel stand, and the three of them started toward the Ping-Pong room on the other side of the pool.

Shy watched them go, trying to figure out what had just happened. There was no way he was going to dinner with passengers. Didn’t matter how good-looking the girls were, it would be torture. Plus, it wasn’t even allowed. And where was this guy going in the middle of a cruise? Then again, Shy reminded himself, passengers could pretty much do anything they wanted if they had enough money. And the gray-haired guy made it sound like he was all buddy-buddy with the captain.

Shy glanced down at his sign-in sheet, studied the girl’s information. Addison Miller. Even her name sounded stuck-up. That’s one of the things he liked best about Carmen. Hottest female on the ship, crew or otherwise, and she acted like she didn’t have a clue.

Shy looked up at the sky where dark gray clouds were rolling in. If they eventually blocked out the sun, it would mean more people working out during his gym shift, which would mean more work for him. He scanned the pool crowd again, readying himself to do one final towel pass before he went on break. He was surprised to find Rodney lumbering down the length of the Lido Deck.

“Shy!” he called out as he rounded the Jacuzzi.

A few passengers turned to look at him.

When the guy finally made it to Shy’s towel stand he stuck a meaty forearm up on the counter and leaned over to catch his breath.

“What the hell, Rod?” Shy said.

Rodney pulled in a couple deep breaths, then stood up straight and looked Shy right in the eyes. “You need to come with me. Right now, bro.”

“Why? What happened?”

“We’ve been robbed!”