Delphine moved through the narrow corridor with a ballerina’s grace, shoulders loose, arms floating at her sides like a woman treading water, swanlike as she limbered up the lean muscles of her long frame. Her conversation with Tina was already forgotten; Delphine had much bigger things to occupy her mind than that decorative nincompoop. She wondered if she’d have time for a few yoga poses before dinner. It wouldn’t matter if she were a bit late to the party; she was a strange hybrid of guest and employee, only there to make sure everyone had a good time, maybe flirt a bit with the male guests. Get them talking about their jobs and accomplishments, and most men were putty in her hands. The problem was she rarely drank—she had an athlete’s fear of taking on anything that might affect her focus, form, and concentration—and that made the cocktail chatter a bit of a chore. Certainly she didn’t do drugs, either, although she couldn’t say the same for everyone on board. Some of her early upbringing had stuck with her and she knew that people who got sucked into using drugs were lost souls, sometimes lost for good, and she wasn’t about to join their ranks. If they were dumb enough to use, that was their lookout.
Now she lifted her arms over her head and twisted her upper torso from side to side, working off the tensions of the day. If the narrow passage had allowed for it she would have done a few sidekicks or spun like a whirling dervish—she had spent some time in Turkey two years before and had studied this form of active meditation. Oddly, she had come to believe the frenzied practice had something in common with the quieter discipline of yoga.
Delphine was a woman constantly in motion, never still; she loved stretching her long torso and limbs into poses that would defeat even some of the masters of the art. She was competitive by nature and saw no irony in wanting to be the best at yoga as she once had been the best in dance at her New Hampshire high school. She had grown too tall for the career in ballet she’d been aiming for, but with yoga there were no limits except the limits the mind imposed.
Delphine had been feeling lately that life really was good. This “cruise director” job aboard the Calypso Facto was more like a permanent holiday, and the minor irritants of putting up with people like Tina and Zaki were offset by the financial rewards. Besides, she had already decided she would not work with Zaki again; he would just have to go. She would figure out a way, but she had to be careful that Zaki not suspect she was behind his downfall. For Zaki was all about revenge. Such bad karma, that.
As for Tina, that was surely just a matter of waiting. She was yesterday’s news and too thick to notice her boredom with Romero was mutual.
When Romero had first offered Delphine the job she had thought it would be a matter of weeks, a temporary gig that allowed her to see a bit more of the world. But it had been many months now; she was in no rush to leave, and Romero seemed reluctant for her to go. She knew he had a hidden agenda in asking her aboard but she had soon put him straight on that score. She had told him her heart belonged to Dennis back home and as soon as she’d seen some of the world and built up her nest egg she would go home and marry him. A bit to her surprise, the famously temperamental Lothario had backed off and was now as tame as a housecat with her. He’d told her she reminded him of his daughter back in California, and he’d now adopted this sort of fatherly attitude toward her. She had quickly seen the advantages of the job and was set to exploit the situation to the full.
The sail up the French Atlantic coast had offered some of the most stunning views she’d ever seen in her life. The rocky coast of Brittany and the cliffs of Normandy had rendered her speechless. Her grandfather had taken part in the famous invasion, and while his war stories used to bore her silly, seeing those cliffs she’d felt a thrill of pride and kinship. Her grandfather had been brave, physically and mentally fearless. The mission had been crazy but he’d not backed down; he had not run away. He’d been reckless and bold, ignoring the risks. Just like his granddaughter. Later on, when he’d returned home … well, he might have taken a few shortcuts then, and he’d had one or two run-ins with the law, but risk-taking was just part of his nature. Go big or go home—for sure, that is what life was about. Her parents in contrast had been all about playing it safe. That was not Delphine’s style at all.
It was funny how people, once they knew you were into yoga, assumed you were all about world peace and mindfulness. But the sheer physicality of it is what she loved; the mindfulness part was a bonus. Another word for it was simply “focus,” and that she’d begun to perfect in ballet. That razor-sharp focus that did not allow for mistakes.
She turned the key in the lock of her cabin. The simplicity of life aboard ship also appealed to her: there was no room for excess baggage, physical or mental. She opened her closet and began sorting through the few dresses she had brought with her. She was dying to wear the new green sequined number, but it would be too much for tonight. Besides, she was saving that for the party to be held at the hotel where they would soon be docking—some sort of film premiere celebration. She took a basic black dress off its hanger instead, and took out the pearls and matching earrings that had been her grandmother’s. Dennis said the outfit made her look like the proverbial pint of Guinness—a tall blonde in a black dress.
Dennis was so sweet. But Delphine wasn’t sure Dennis was for the long term. She had made him sound more important in her life than he was: just a little white lie she’d told Romero, with a few embellishments.
Delphine was in complete control of her destiny, pulling all the strings. A free agent.
Talk about mindfulness. She could beat anyone at that game.