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The woman taps on the keys, a frown on her face. “I’m not seeing your cabin assignment.”
I’m ready for this.
“I only just confirmed that I could come. I might not have been assigned with the others.” I turn my phone to her toshow her the pass that was sent to me a month ago, before the disaster.
She peers at it and keeps tapping.
“My sister was pregnant and due this week. I wanted to be there for her. But the baby came early, so I’m here!” This is all a total lie. I’m an only child.
“That’s lovely.” She moves her mouse around. “Okay, I see you on the original passenger list. I’m so glad you could make it. Did she have a boy or a girl?”
“A boy. Maxwell.” Maxwell is the name of my cat. I love him like I would a nephew. If I had one. Or a sister.
“How precious. I got you assigned a cabin.”
“Oh, good. Thank you so much.” First hurdle crossed.
She swipes a keycard and prints several tags for my luggage. “You can wait in Lounge A. Your bags will be waiting in your cabin.” She passes me the card.
“Oh, I can’t get on board?” I hear voices behind me. Someone else is early. I press my floppy sun hat lower on my head and resist the urge to put on the sunglasses tucked into the square neckline of my sundress.
“We will board you all together. The lounge has a breakfast buffet and a coffee bar all ready for you. Enjoy talking to your co-workers as you wait.”
She looks behind me to greet the approaching guests.
Oh, boy. I didn’t bank on having to stand around before we got on the yacht.
I beeline for the open double doors of Lounge A, then hesitate before entering, making sure no one is there. Only a woman in a chef hat and blue uniform is inside, stacking plates on a long table.
I move beyond the doors, stepping to one side before turning to peer out at the group behind me. I recognize Matthew fromaccounting. He was the one who handled my boss’s expense checks. The woman with him is probably his wife.
Another couple enters the lobby, Gina from HR and her husband. I definitely can’t let her see me. She did my exit interview, where I dropped more F-bombs than a pissed-off truck driver. I take a step back from the door. This is going to be trickier than I thought.
I survey the lounge. There’s a coffee bar with large brown carafes and perfect rows of gleaming white mugs. A long buffet is lined with silver chafing dishes.
My stomach growls. Too bad, morning belly, we have to hide.
There’s a ficus plant in one corner that might offer some protection, but not when the room gets busy. The chef heads through a side door, presumably to a kitchen. I don’t know how long I could hang out in there before someone ushered me out.
Otherwise, there’s only this door to the front desk.
I peer into the lobby. A second Blue Sapphire employee has arrived to help with check-in, so both Matthew and Gina are occupied with getting their bags tagged.
There’s a matching set of doors on the opposite side of the desk, presumably another lounge. But those are shut tight. They might be locked.
Another short hall leads to the bathrooms. Of course. That’s a safe place, and I better get there before anyone else arrives.
I pin my straw bag to my side with my elbow and angle my head so that my hat hides my face from my former co-workers. Then I race toward the women’s bathroom, push through the door, and quickly lock myself in the last stall.
I guess I’ll stay here as long as possible.
The toilet seat is up from being cleaned. I drop it down, perching delicately on the edge. I wish I’d asked how long it would be before we boarded the boat. I can’t believe we’re going in a group. This isn’t how I thought it would go at all!
And now if I get caught, my luggage is already in a cabin. I might never get it back!
I start to stomp my foot, but I slip into the toilet. I catch myself just before my butt hits the water.
“Get it together, Bailey,” I tell myself.
