Page 14 of Under the Radar
8
Mac kept tabs on her by tracking the usage on her Float & Go card. She’d kept quite a schedule for the first twenty-four hours of the cruise. She’d logged in at the ‘Adults Only’ gym, ran an impressive 5.4 miles on the treadmill, and spent time in the hot tub, twice. She’d played four games of group Bingo, attended a comedy hour, won $56.24 on the penny slot machines, and purchased makeup in the duty-free shops.
Mo didn’t need makeup as far as he was concerned. The thought of her all sun-drenched with no makeup made him hard in an instant.
Mac adjusted the tie on his crew uniform and attached his ID badge. He’d probably ditch this cruise and catch a ride back to Baltimore on a returning ship when they stopped in Miami. Her last purchase had made it quite clear that she was involved with somebody. She’d bought an extravagantly priced box of Bahamian cigars, and the woman didn’t smoke.
This morning at breakfast, Mac had watched from the kitchen as the guy from the sun deck joined Mo at a table. They weren’t there long, but the man had followed her to the crystal elevator. For all appearances, they seemed to have plans together for the day. Mac banged his closet door shut with more force than was necessary. Heat flushed his neck every time he thought about her with someone else. He scrolled the computer screen to see if she’d made any appointments for special services. Let’s see—she’d scheduled a mani-pedi at 2:00 pm, full-body seaweed scrub at 4:00 pm, and Brazilian wax at 5:45 pm.
Mac whimpered out loud. Call him weak, but he’d sell his soul to touch Mo Reardon after a Brazilian. He heaved an irritated growl and continued paging down the screen. What? A couples hot stone massage at 7:00 pm and dinner in the reservations-only, ship-top restaurant at 9:00 pm? So, she was with that guy?Mac swung his fist through the air like a boxer. Give me one good reason not to ram my elbow through your solar-plexus, dude. I just need one valid reason. He slid a pair of sunglasses on his face as the door to his suite slammed behind him.
* * *
Mo adjusted her leg. Her muscles melted like warm jelly under the sensual, not-quite-too-hot stones on her back and butt. “Hey, Emily? Thanks again for letting me borrow your phone yesterday to call my folks. I really appreciate the gesture, seeing as we’d just met.”
“Uh-huh. No problem. Thanks for agreeing to the couples massage today. It was a free sign-up for-the-cruise perk I could only use if I had someone with me. That’s hard to accomplish when cruising solo.” Emily held a hand in the air between their massage tables. “Give me five, new friend.”
Mo slapped her hand and grinned. “I haven’t felt this relaxed, ever.”
“Me either. I thought I’d lose my mind if I had to work in that old Social Security building one more day while summer rolled by outside. I love my job, but it was time for a couple weeks of sunshine and different scenery. Hey, how was your Brazilian?”
Mo groaned. “They’re always tough to take, but the results are worth it. I can wear any bathing suit I want now. Did you ever get one?
Emily’s head popped up. “Me? Hell, no. You get them often?”
Mo laughed. “Just once or twice a year when I wear a bikini. During the winter, I let the forest grow.”
“You’re a braver woman than I am, girl. I can’t tell the thatch from the trees year-round.” They both burst into a fit of cackling and one-liners.
Mo raised her head. “Stop making me laugh, Em. The stones are going to fall off my butt.”
“We’re both covered in coconut-lime oil. Everything’s gonna slide off our bodies,” Emily retorted. “Maybe I’ll order a huge burger today, and it’ll just slide off my butt without attaching itself. Speaking of food, do you still want to do dinner later?”
“Yes, absolutely. I already made the reservations. My treat. It’s my thank you to you for this massage. We’re eating at the rooftop restaurant. Darn, I shouldn’t have laughed so hard. A couple stones slipped in-between my legs.”
“Count your blessings, girl. At least you’ve got something warm between your thighs. You have a guy back at home?”
Mo sighed. “I thought I did, but now, not so much. It must’ve been a false positive.” Her voice drifted off as the familiar ache tightened in her chest where the hurt from Mac’s brush-off sat wound in a little ball. She still found it hard to believe that he’d ghosted her.
Emily turned her face toward Mo. “I’m sorry. Did he give you that shiner on your cheek?”
“What? Heavens, no. He would never hurt me, at least, not physically. I slipped in my kitchen the night before the cruise started.”
“You sure?” Whispered concern laced Emily’s voice. “About the falling part?”
Mo shifted her body to face her new friend. “Yes. I really slipped on water in the kitchen. My face landed on a little terra cotta planter that usually sits in my window, where I grow herbs for cooking. You’re not the only person who thinks that somebody hit me.”
“It’s the placement of the bruise. It’s in the perfect spot where a guy could’ve cold-cocked you. Does it hurt?”
“Yeah, and it’s getting more colorful by the hour. My room steward has been very helpful though, bringing me ice in the morning and evening to keep the swelling down. It’ll start to look better soon. I’ve been using tons of concealer hoping people won’t notice, but there’s no hiding it in here with my face on a sheet.”
The relaxing vibes drained from Mo’s thoughts in spite of the Zen atmosphere. Her face would heal, but how long would it take to repair the hot mess called her life?