He seems attentive enough—at first, but when we enter the captain’s dining room, where a pre-dinner cocktail party is going on, a professional mask morphs over his face and his attention turns to the movers and shakers and their perfectly coiffed partners.
I sink into obscurity just like my stiletto heels into the plush carpet. The string quartet playing classical music, the faint clinking of glasses, the sedate murmuring of polite conversation, and the flash of jewelry and dropping of names reminds me of the phony cocktail parties I attended as pure arm candy.
Smile when spoken to.
Don’t ever venture an opinion.
Look gracious when introduced.
Stand straight and tall.
Always bestow an admiring gaze at my escort as if he were the center of the universe.
I glance at Sven and realize for the first time how tall he is and what a big presence he makes.
He knows everyone. From the retired senator to an elderly duchess to a woman who starred in several B, C, or D movies, to a former Olympic decathlon gold medalist.
Sven doesn’t much refer to me, other than as the beautiful girl he picked up at the bar. Now that I think about it, does he even know my name?
I must be tasty arm candy, because once we reach the table, I’m seated next to the captain, a silver-haired man with bright-blue eyes. We’re introduced to the other people at the table, the usual socialite crowd of self-important people, the masters of the universe type with social justice hobbies and causes.
“So, Miss Davison, what do you do?” the captain asks as champagne is being served.
“I’m a voice-over artist.”
“Oh, really,” the captain’s partner stares over her long nose at me. “Tell me which movies you’ve done.”
“I narrate audiobooks, but I’ve done a few commercials,” I admit. “I’ve tried out for several animated films.”
“What kind of audiobooks?” the captain asks. “Do you do self-help or motivational ones?”
“She does the naughty ones,” a deep voice sounding almost familiar vibrates from behind me.
For a moment there, I thought it was someone else, a world-renowned voice artist, but my common sense tells me it’s Jordan Reed, and that my imagination is running wild.
“Erotic romance is her specialty. I have all her recordings,” the mellifluous voice announces to the nervous laughter around the table.
Jordan’s a fan of little ol’ me? Should I be pleased or upset?
My head jerks around, and who should be coming around the table, but my nemesis with his date, Dr. Alice Lin.
“Ah, Dr. Lin,” the captain says. “So good to have you with us. I’m looking forward to your lecture on the Apollo space program. Will you be talking about the moon landing?”
“Actually, Apollo 13 is more dramatic,” Alice replies. “I’ll go into detail about the unstable orbit code I wrote for the lunar module thrusters. As you know, it turned out to be key in returning the astronauts to safety.”
Everyone at the table pretends to hem and haw their agreement at how important the lunar module was to this ancient space mission which happened well before my birth.
After taking their seats, Alice introduces Jordan as her hot date, not her grandson, as several of the snooty socialites assumed.
I laugh inside at how well Jordan plays his role. He nods and smiles, and otherwise stays out of the limelight. Several times, I glance at him, but he doesn’t give away that he even knows me.
As bad luck would have it, Jordan is directly across the table from me, so keeping my gaze away from him the rest of the evening would be an exercise in futility. I hate to admit it, but he dresses up well. I was always partial to the dark, brunette James Bond actors, despite telling Jordan I’m into light blonds.
Too bad he’s such a jerk, setting me up with Sven, the very image of a superhero who should have his own Marvel comic series.
The Swede’s booming voice bombards my eardrums nonstop throughout the meal, and I can’t help noticing how everything revolves around himself. That man must love the sound of his own voice.
I can’t decide whether Jordan set me up with Sven as a blessing or a curse. On the surface, he’s gallant, a sports hero, stunning in looks and very well liked. I should be proud to be seen with him, especially since I was so unceremoniously dumped by my politician in training fiancé.
Meanwhile, Jordan and Dr. Lin tell nerd jokes which get everyone laughing, and if you can ignore the huge age difference, it looks like he’s having fun.
She’s taught him manners in less than the time it took for him to dress up, and he’s attentive and charming, making eye contact with her and smiling at her jokes.
If he’s acting, he’s a darn good at it.
I catch his glance and he smirks in a self-satisfied way, then places his hand on Dr. Lin’s shoulder, leans in and asks her a question.
It isn’t until dessert time and the servers are passing out coffee before I realize she hasn’t snickered once since joining Jordan at the captain’s table.
