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And that’s on Bailey.
The dailies will tell me more. Every requisition, every payment. I’ve asked accounting for an audit, but I’d like to review the books myself as well. With my schedule cleared of meetings, this cruise is the perfect time.
I heave a sigh when I’m back in my room, but it’s short-lived. Gloria’s highlighted reminder warns me about the welcome speech I have to deliver. Only half an hour until that.
Normally Bailey would have written a few words for me, but it’s fine that I’m doing it myself. I liked her style, and it was nice to hand that task to someone who did it well, but I don’t mind speeches.
I open my bag to extract a pair of swim trunks. I will look the part, even if I don’t participate any more than necessary. Viola was right. I need to at least give the appearance of being involved in the fun.
If I had my way, if I could be the person I want to be on this trip and not the boss, I would be the first in the pool, the last to shut down the bar. I’d get incredibly inappropriate with a woman in the hot tub and locate a spot to get sunburned in all the wrong places with someone and lick sweat from her nipples.
Nobody would bring me dailies. I’d be the biggest slacker in the entire company. And I would lead the drinking songs by the pool until we all passed out on the deck.
I heave a sigh.
I can do none of that.
Instead, I change into conservative blue swim trunks and a white T-shirt.
Perhaps to make up for this, I’ll convince my brother Court to go on a singles cruise with me. We’ll insist ontwentyfingerprints for our rooms and use each and every one.
I stop in the bathroom and muss my hair slightly. In this outfit, I look like myself. Rhett Amstrong, player, fun-lover, weekend beach bum.
But for the next four days, I’ll have to shove that part of me deep into a hole.
Time for the boss to write a speech.
Anddefinitelynot think about Bailey Johansson.
5
BAILEY
The room inspection was an idle threat. They never intended to barge in.
I wait long, excruciating minutes, then push the chair away from the desk. My legs are cramped from my tight position, and I flail across the floor in a chaos of pink sundress and screaming limbs.
I lie on the carpet, staring at the beautiful tin ceiling. Is this worth it?
It will be. I picture the sandy beach, the ocean water lapping over my ankles.
Yes. I will get there.
I drag myself to standing, desperately wishing I’d packed some snacks. The horizon remains an unbroken blue of water and sky.
By lunch, I am starving. The itinerary left on the desk says that after the champagne send-off and mustering, there is a poolside welcome by, of course, my nemesis Rhett Armstrong. I have to skip that.
Then a lunch buffet is set up from noon to two.
I figure everyone will dash there right away, so if I sneak down at, let’s say, one o’clock, it will be quiet.
The mirror assures me that my oversized sunglasses and floppy sun hat are a good disguise. My chestnut hair with its distinctive purple highlights is completely hidden.
My sundress is colorful, but otherwise loose and not something that makes you look twice. The flip-flops are generic. My poor Bernie Mevs. One is still much pinker than the other.
I’ve even glossed my nails with beige. I’m here to fly under the radar, eat free food, lounge in the pool, and see the sights. This trip is owed to me for my two years of service to the evil one. I’m going to savor every minute.
And not get caught until it’s too late for Rhett to do anything about it.
