For a few seconds I stood there speechless. Jackie was an odd duck even if a pretty one. Her dark brown eyes and matching hair, even shoved up in a mess, emphasized her European features. If she were male, I’d call her swarthy, but since she wasn’t, I had to go with exotic.
“Oh, yeah. I’ll be sure to read the manual by then.” I sat on her bed and shoved off my shoes. “There is one thing that will be very different for me, I’m sure.”
“Hmm?”
“Well, I’m not used to dealing with the patients-”
“Passengers,” she corrected without so much as a glance. Her right foot was up on my bed now, and she was gingerly painting the little toe with more care than she had acknowledged toward our conversation.
“Oh, yeah.” I laughed. “I can’t get used to calling them passengers. Anyway, I’m not used to charging them or having anything to do with that end of the care either. Billing is not my thing.”
Her hand stopped. The nail-polish brush slipped. A bronze streak marked her upper foot. Suddenly I felt as if we’d docked in Paris. Jackie went on and on in French. The only words I understood were diabolique and enfer-both of which I guessed had something to do with hell. Either way, Jackie did not seem like a happy camper.
She had to be my ticket to solving this case and finding out who was taking all the money from overcharging passengers for medical care. Well, at least she could be a start. How convenient that she was rooming with me and-gulp-how scary.
Jackie swabbed off the nail polish from her skin. For a second, I thought I should just leave her alone. But then again, where better to start my questioning?
“So,” I said, “We really don’t need to deal with who gets charged how much?”
She seemed to have calmed herself as she pitched the bronze-covered swab into the trash. “Oui.”
We what? I waited until it dawned on me that Jackie had slipped back into French. Hmm. Seems as if when she became upset, she would speak in her mother tongue. Speaking of mothers, I wish I had mine’s ability to get the truth out of someone with just a look. “That’s good. I’m not good with numbers.” I laughed. So her story wasn’t really any different from Betty’s.
“Did I tell you that my family is on this cruise too?” I hoped that didn’t sound as out of place and stupid as I felt saying it. I’d only had a minute amount of conversation with Jackie earlier, but there was a method to my madness.
“Family?”
“Yep. Parents and one uncle. Two friends too. Great friends. They’re my roommates back home in Connecticut.”
She didn’t even look up.
“Whereabouts are you from, Jackie?”
She finished her toes, leaned back in the chair and let her feet stay on my bed until, I was guessing, her nails dried. “Paree.”
Made me crave a croissant dripping in real butter and a black coffee-even though I’d prefer tea or decaf loaded with half and half. “Paris.”
“I was born in New York City but raised in Paris since a baby.”
So Jackie really was an American citizen. Actually she had dual citizenship. How cool. “Raised in Paris. Wow. Very glamorous.”
“Do not let the world fool you.” She gently took the cotton out from between her toes and then got up. When she stopped at the bathroom door and turned, she said, “Do not let anyone fool you. It could cost you.”
My mouth dropped down to my knees, the usual sign that something had shocked the dickens out of me. Jagger very often was the cause, but Jackie’s words added a bit more emotion, a new sensation stronger than anything Jagger had ever caused: fear.
The exotic woman with bronze toenails knew something.
That was all I could think about as I changed into a pair of silky black slacks and a silver-and-black sparkly sleeveless top and brushed my hair until it shone. Thank goodness Goldie had forced me to go shopping in the short time I’d had between receiving my assignment and sailing. There was no better personal shopper than my Gold. Even Miles would acknowledge that.
I took out my Estee Lauder perfume and sprayed my neck and wrists.
Jackie indeed was a piece of work to study, but right now I had to get ready for my “date” with Hunter. Date? Maybe I was being presumptuous. He probably didn’t mean for it to be a date. Maybe he was just trying to welcome a new crewmember onboard.
When the knock sounded on my room’s door, I stuck my feet into my black spike heels and gave myself one last look in the mirror before shoving the sink back up against the wall.
Hmm. Not bad.
Jackie had left sometime before supper, after telling me where and when to go eat with the crew. I had a nice turkey meal (not buffet) in the crewmembers’ dining hall on deck two with Betty and the crew’s purser, Claude Bernard, who now dated Jackie. Hmm. He told me that he handled all the crew paperwork and assisted in all crew matters. I already knew all that but didn’t interrupt. I wondered how much he knew about me. I was anxious to meet the main medical receptionist, but never did, since I had to get back to my room to change.
Knock. Knock.
“Oops. Coming in a second!” One last look in the mirror, and then I hurried and opened the door.
“Good evening.”
Hunter Knight gave new meaning to the term “white knight in shining armor.” He looked delicious. For a second I felt as if I’d traveled back in time to the Love Boat and he was the guest star of the show.
“Hey. Was I supposed to wear my uniform?”
He chuckled. “You look wonderful. When it is your time off, Pauline, you can wear whatever you like…or not.”
The twinkle in his eye would be classified as X-rated.
And the thoughts on my mind would be too.
Hey, a girl needed a reprieve from fear/fraud/ and friends every once in a while.
Since it was my time off and Hunter’s job involved planning fun for the passengers, we were allowed in the Bottlenose Lounge tonight. The chairs, a deep aquamarine, were shaped like half barrels with nautical designs of anchors on them.
On the walls were a series of golden dolphins that appeared to be swimming and jumping through waves. In the center of the place was a gigantic column-shaped tank of water-with three live dolphins swimming in it! At least they looked real. Less than four feet long, they must have been some kind of miniature, but it was really neat.
The column had to run two floors up, to the top deck, where they could go for air.
A band was set up on the stage, which was a few feet above the wooden dance floor. Tables of passengers filled the room and amid the chatter, the music played softly.
Hunter took my elbow and eased me toward the front of the room, where a bar, its glass top filled with colorful tiny fish, wrapped around the stage. He pointed to a stool shaped like a dolphin at the end. On the bar was a little gold “reserved” sign.
“Just for you, Pauline. Tonight is the welcome dance.” He leaned near and whispered, “Welcome.”
My toes curled in my pointy pumps.
The bartender came over. She nodded at Hunter and smiled at me. Hunter introduced her as Edie Edwards. She reminded me of Adele Girard, Fabio’s receptionist and another of my friends, although dressed in her nice white crew’s uniform, I was guessing that Edie wasn’t an ex-con. Adele, however, was. “Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Likewise, honey.” Edie had a Southern accent similar to Goldie’s. I wondered if she was from Louisiana too. Hunter excused himself to go talk to some passengers while Edie offered to get me a drink on Hunter’s tab.
“Beer. Any kind,” I said, liking her already. It was nice to see a woman as the bartender. She probably was better at listening and being sympathetic than any guy could be. Well, except maybe a gay one.
Edie laughed and poured me a mug from the tap. “So, you’re the new nurse.”