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I lean against the wall, watching Anna from a distance. She and the blonde girl are still chatting, but now and then Anna’s big brown eyes flit my way, so quick that someone who wasn’t watching intently wouldn’t even notice. Here she is, in her pink sunhat and blowsy white cover-up, looking sweet and sexy and innocent all at once. And she’s done somethingnice. I grind my teeth. She’s getting in my head. But that’s how women like her work.
I turn my back to her and rest my arms on the edge of the pool while trying not to worry about losing my tail on her. Her boys will know how to find her. All around me, couples are cuddling and kissing, and beyond the music, the main thing I hear is laughter. It’s strange that Anna picked the Love at Sea cruise, dedicated to true romance, for all her debauchery.
“What is your problem with me?” I hear Anna’s words from behind me, and before I can turn around, she appears next to me at the edge of the pool, crossing her arms on the deck next to mine.
“I don’t have a problem.” She rolls her eyes at my obvious lie. My right arm warms as the heat of the sun radiates off her skin and onto mine. This close, I can see flecks of gold in her eyes. Beads of water balance on her long eyelashes. “Why are you helping that girl?” I blurt. She blinks, and her lips open, almost as if she’s surprised by my question. She has a tiny, unusual indentation at the center of her bottom lip, like someone perfectly designed her mouth to rest a straw.
“I knew you were eavesdropping.” Surprise gives way to annoyance on her face.
“I didn’t mean to listen in.”
“Right,” she rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen you eavesdrop multiple times already, and we met yesterday. You know it’s a bad habit, right?”
“How do you get up on such a high horse?” It’s as if she’s forgotten that stepping out on her husband is wrong.
“By being nice to strangers instead of rude and surly.” She cocks an eyebrow.
“Oh, so you’ve been nothing but polite to me?” Two can play this game. I turn towards her.
“I won’t lie. It’s hard to respect someone who likes cruises as much as you do.” A smile tugs at her lips.
“Cruises are hardcore. I don’t know what your issue is.” Am I flirting back? Mike is going to kill me.
“Cruises are the worst combination of every type of vacation.” She wrinkles her nose, but she’s smirking. “Breezing through port countries like you can see anything real in one day. Going on pre-packaged excursions that could not be less authentic. And signing up to be trapped in your floating hotel for days on end, with nothing to do but over-eat and over-drink? Just… why?”
“You’re looking at this all wrong. A cruise is all about variety.” Wait, did I just argue her case for cheating? “I mean, not variety. Newness.” Ugh, that’s not any better. “Well anyway, there’s a lot to do on board, and if you hadn’t gone to bed at sunset, you might know that.”
“Were you at the club with the guys last night?” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Yeah, that’s where I met Colin.” Something clouds her face.
“I knew it. You’re here to prey on the desperate, horny singles who sprang for the Love at Sea package. No wonder you like cruises.” She shakes her head.
“I’ve liked them since I was a kid.” I don’t need to defend myself to her, I know. And yet… “I have a lot of wonderful memories from those trips.”
She rotates her whole body to face me with something akin to delight.
“So that’s your excuse?” she asks. “Your childhood trips?” My heart rate kicks up, her megawatt smile blinding me. We’re face-to-face now, only a couple of feet between me and the tiny pink bikini covering even less than her dress last night. Anna’s hands are swirling around her in the pool, making the water tickle my skin whenever her fingers spin close. “I guess your parents raised you all wrong.” Dimples pop in her cheeks.
My face must show some truth of my childhood, because her smile dims. She says nothing, but her face has softened. She’s waiting for an honest answer.
“I was raised by my grandparents,” I say a little stiffly. “They took me in when my parents ran off with other people. It’s my grandparents who love cruises.” I’m spilling my guts to a client’s cheating wife. This whole situation is getting beyond me.
“My parents split when I was little too,” she says. “It sucks.” She winces, and there’s something painful in her expression. “Did yours ever remarry?”
“Interesting you ask.” Is she thinking about her own future? “Mom’s on number four. Dad’s on three. Can’t say I support their choices.”
“My mom’s had two divorces,” Anna says, sounding forlorn. Shit. Mike hadn’t shared this tidbit with me. It went somewhat beyond the scope of my case. I shouldn’t know this. I should end this conversation.
“What happened?” I say. Jesus-effing-Christ. What’s wrong with me today?
“My parents said their flame died out,” she said. “Which seems like the stupidest excuse to me. They were still friends. We still had a nice childhood - me and my sister. We shuttled between their houses and took family vacations and everything. But why not work at it, you know?”
Unreal, coming from her, but okay.
“And the second time?” I can’t help myself.
“The second time, my mom married an asshole.” Her tone has shifted, colder now. She’s moved further from me in the pool. “What about your parents?” Her voice is still flat.
