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"You heard her," Jerry yells, his voice carrying across the room. "She can't talk to me that way. On top of that, she physically attacked me during dinner. And now—right now—sheverbally assaulted me. You saw her. You heard it. She's a threat, and I want her kicked off the ship."
"Sir, I understand you're upset, but you need to calm down." Dane holds his hands up, motioning Jerry to back off. "Nobody got attacked, and I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding. It's been a stressful evening, so let's just calm down. Okay? Let me get you your drink, and we can put this all aside."
"You're in cahoots with her. I know it. I want to speak to your supervisor right now."
A gentleman sitting on the couch across from Jerry reaches over and grabs his shoulder. "Listen, Jerry. You need to back off. That woman did not attack you. She didn't do it here or at the restaurant. If anything, what I heard her do a moment ago was defend herself and this gentleman from you."
"That's rubbish." Jerry shoves the man's hand from his shoulder. "That woman has attacked me twice now. And this man has defended her and refused to serve me." Jerry spots Mitre coming through the door and jumps up from his seat. "You there! Are you a supervisor?"
"N…no," Mitre stammers, instantly aware of Jerry's rage. "Do you need one?"
"No, he doesn't need one," the man sitting with Jerry says.
Jerry glares at him. "Mind your own business, Pete. I know what I need. You don't."
The man rolls his eyes and gives an exasperated shake of his head. He motions to the woman sitting with him that they need to leave and scowls at Jerry before hastily guiding the woman toward the door. Seconds later, they're gone.
"Well, where is your supervisor?" Jerry snaps, eyeing Mitre.
"I'm right here. How can I help you, sir?" Luis walks over to the growing fray, having come into the lounge through the door at the far end by the dining area. He glances at Dane, then turns back to Jerry.
"The woman here a few minutes ago attacked me for the second time this evening, and your bartender is in league with her. Plus, I was ignored. Your bartender wouldn't serve me. I had to go out of my way to get his attention." Jerry throws a smug look at Dane.
Dane snorts at Jerry's wild accusations. He was already having a bad night; this guy is the topper. Dane leans against the bar, shaking his head at Luis. There's always at least one pain-in-the-ass passenger on every cruise, and on this cruise, it's Jerry, although he's far worse than most. The smug look he gave Dane said it all. The man has no problem lying through his teeth to get Dane in trouble. That's fine. Dane can take care of himself, and there's a room full of people who heard their exchange. It's Brittany he's more concerned about. Although he doesn't know her well—other than sexually—he's pretty sure she wouldn't have attacked Jerry, or anyone else, for that matter, while at the restaurant. So as far as Dane is concerned, the asshole had no justifiable cause to go after her. Brittany was simply defending herself—and him—a few moments ago.
"What's going on here?" the cruise manager, Beckett Edwards, says as he comes through the door and joins the group. His mouth forms into a tight line when he spots Jerry.
Dane tries and fails to hide his grin as he catches the look of irritation on Beckett's face before the man hides it behind a stoic countenance.
Luis nods toward Jerry. "It seems this gentleman here has several complaints." Luis's voice is calm, although his facial tic indicates otherwise.
"And what seems to be the issue, Mr. Epstein?" There's the barest hint of annoyance in Beckett's voice.
"The woman that attacked me at the wine tavern did it again. This time verbally, and your bartender egged her on. And on topof that, he isn't doing his job. He ignored me when I wanted a drink."
Beckett turns toward the bar, rolling his eyes when he sees Dane shake his head in disagreement with Jerry's story. He turns back to Jerry. "Mr. Epstein, I'm sure you remember we've already had this discussion. It was an accident during dinner. The young lady that fell on you didn't do it on purpose. And Dane, the gentleman behind the bar, is an excellent employee. He's conscientious and professional, and I assure you he would not intentionally ignore you. I apologize if you feel slighted in any way."
"But what about the woman? She verbally attacked me when I asked for a drink."
"Excuse me," the man sitting on the other side of the bar calls out. "You can go back and forth with this guy all night if you want, but my wife and I have been sitting here the whole time and saw what happened. The guy complaining is the one who started it. He confronted Dane and the lady sitting at the bar without any justification. The lady simply called him out, defending not only herself but Dane. If you want, we can ask everyone here what happened, but they'll tell you the same thing. This guy likes to make up stories and complain. We've all heard him do it."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate your input," Beckett says to the gentleman at the bar. He swivels toward Jerry. "Mr. Epstein, at this point, it's best if you return to your cabin so everyone can settle down. All right?"
"Me? Why do I have to go to my cabin? I'm the victim."
"Mr. Epstein. I'm asking you to go to your cabin. If you choose not to do so, I will, in fact, survey the guests in the lounge. And if I hear what I believe I'll hear, you will be escorted to your cabin. I hope I make myself clear."
"Fine, but you're not listening to me." Jerry glares at Dane and the man sitting at the bar. Then he marches away, his wife scurrying off behind him.
"Christ, that guy is a pain," Beckett says under his breath. He turns to Luis. "Let the staff know they'll need to treat him with kid gloves; otherwise, we'll have an endless string of complaints on our hands."
"You got it. I'll let everyone know," Luis says.
Beckett sighs and walks toward the door, stopping for a second as he pats the bar's counter with his hand. "Good job, Dane. Keep it up. I know it wasn't you." He gives Dane a reassuring thumbs-up and leaves the lounge.
"What on earth was that all about?" Luis says, coming over to stand at the bar. He arches a brow at Dane.
Dane grabs a towel and wipes a spot on the counter. "The guy just likes to complain. It's as simple as that, and none of it was valid."
