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I am only dimly aware of Sandy leaving the suite and Ashley shutting the door firmly behind him. I immediately jump up and start pacing the floor. All traces of fun I had been having have quickly dissipated.
“Hey, hey, whoa! What’s wrong?” Ashley catches my arms and holds me still in front of her.
Now is a really bad time to admit that I like the look of soft concern and tenderness in her eyes. It makes me feel as though she cares about me, for real and not just for appearances’ sake.
I shake my head vigorously. “This is a nightmare, an absolute nightmare! I’ve never been to a fancy dinner before and I have no idea what to do.”
I pull away from Ashley, bereft for a moment at our lack of contact before snapping back to reality.
“I have to figure out what to do. Oh god, how many forks are there going to be? I know you get a different fork for crab, but I’ve never eaten crab with a crab fork, and I don’t know if we’re going to be eating crab but we’re in the ocean, so it only makes sense!”
Ashley winces. “I’m going to need you to stop saying crab,” she suggests, amusement in her tone.
“It’s not funny!” I snap at her, whipping out my cell phone and quickly googling table layouts. I wonder if the Captains Table on a luxury cruise liner has its own specific table layout or if any general dinner party one will do.
I’m waiting for the page to load when I’m hit with another realization. “Oh god, I have nothing to wear! And look at my hair, it’s an absolute state!”
Ashley rolls her eyes and I shoot her a look of annoyance and despair.
“You have plenty of clothes, we bought them today. Here, put this on.” Ashley plucks a navy-blue gown from one of the bags and thrusts it at me.
I reluctantly take it into the bathroom to change, and stare at myself in the mirror when I’m done. I must admit that it does look good, but my hair still lets the look down and god only knows what I’m going to do if there’s more than three forks on the table.
When I exit the bathroom, Ashley is standing there, also changed. She looks stunning in a camel colored pantsuit, and skyscraper heels. My heart beats madly in my chest and I close my hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
Ashley notices my nerves and steps up in front of me. “You look wonderful. Here.”
She arranges a fresh flower in my hair and insists that no one will notice or care if I use the wrong fork at dinner. Then she pulls me out into the corridor and along the ship to the dining hall, depositing Alex at the kid’s club on the way. I try to swallow both my nerves and the fluttering of feelings in my chest whenever I look at Ashley.
As we take our seats at the table, the older woman sitting to my right turns to greet us. She looks stern, almost like a librarian, and I have to stop myself from apologizing to her for no reason.
“Harriet. Harriet Peterson,” she says, holding out a hand.
I take it and try to smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Peterson. I’m Emily, and this is my girlfriend…Robin.”
I have to pause so as not to let slip Ashley’s real name, and I gulp as Ms. Peterson’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at my near miss. Ashley swoops into my rescue and shakes Ms. Peterson’s hand enthusiastically.
I manage to claw the conversation back by discussing literature with the intimidating woman, in between bites of the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten. Ms. Peterson seems really interested in my ideas, and when I start to talk about the book I’ve been struggling with, her eyes light up. She asks me rapid fire questions and seems pleased at how quickly I can answer them.
I notice her glancing at Ashley a few times though, and it makes me nervous. I start trying to chat about our “life” together instead, but it only serves to encourage everyone at the table to start asking questions about my relationship with the famous Robin Carmichael.
I’m trying not to show how nervous I am, or stutter over any of my words. I freeze slightly when Ashley squeezes my hand under the table, but somehow it helps me relax more. I’m just launching into a story about how we met (in a planetarium, under Uranus) when the two glamor girls from the shop stalk in and sit directly opposite us.
They shake their hair in unison, and one of them smiles flirtatiously at Ashley. “So, we meet again then,” she simpers.
I’m more annoyed than I expected at their brazenness but tell myself that it’s just because we need to make our cover look realistic. I cough slightly and bring our joined hands up onto the table. The girl eyes our interlocked fingers and smirks slightly.
I decide I must pull out all the stops, if only to make them so jealous they can’t stand to be here anymore. I slide to the edge of my seat and wrap my arms around Ashley’s neck, draping my head across her shoulder. From the way she relaxes into my touch I know that the girls have been annoying her too.
“And do you remember when we went to Barbados at the start of this year, darling? It was
wonderful, gosh the hotel we stayed in was just terrific. And the sea absolutely shone, didn’t it babe?”
Ashley smirked and nodded. “Oh yeah, it was magnificent. Highly recommend it.”
“Oh, but I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I enjoyed the Caribbean. That was my all time favorite, nothing can compare to it.”
“Barbados is in the Caribbean.” Ashley stiffens and I turn to see a tall, thin man with dark eyes and a silver cane stride into the room behind me and sit at a chair across from Ashley. He holds out his hand.
