I cock my head, not getting his coded message. “Do you mean your feelings for me?”
“Yes, deep feelings. You’ve made me feel like I’m a part of you. Wanted. Desired. Accepted.”
“I’m so glad.” I reach up and stroke his cheek, loving the way we can speak so openly.
His eyes dilate, wide open and intense. “Remember us like this. What I feel for you is real. Don’t ever doubt it.”
“I won’t doubt you,” I say in a swooning voice, my heart bursting with happiness.
He steps back when I expect him to kiss me. Then as the helicopter whirs closer, and the whop-whop-whop of the blades drown out my voice, Jordan takes a packet from his pocket and hands it to me.
It’s an oblong box wrapped with Christmas paper.
“Your gift,” he says. “Open it.”
I rip the paper and open the box. It’s the silky Van Gogh Starry Night scarf I was admiring at the ship’s gift shop.
“I love it!” I extract the scarf and hold it up to admire the curls and swirls of color depicting the surreal night sky.
Jordan smiles, close-mouthed, and dots a kiss on my cheek. “I hope you’ll always remember me this way. Wild, crazy, unpredictable, and different.”
“You speak as if you’re going somewhere.”
“Nowhere but in your heart.” He glances at the pilot who is waiting for us. “We’d better get back to port.”
This isn’t exactly as romantic as I envisioned, but he’s right. We have a timetable to keep if we don’t want to be left behind.
“Wait. Let’s do something unexpected. What if we run off together and ditch the ship? Let’s fly away and do something fun and daring.”
“We could.” Jordan gathers the picnic basket and slings the blanket over his shoulder. “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be a vagabond like you. Explore the world together.”
“Let’s do it.” Jordan tilts his head toward the waiting chopper, and we walk toward it. “You pick and let me know.”
* * *
My mind is brimming with ideas. By the time the helicopter lands near the harbor, I’ve designed an around-the-world itinerary.
Of course, travel requires funds, which means I have to figure out how I can work and travel at the same time.
“How long do you usually stay at each place?” I ask Jordan as we approach the ship.
“Varies. A week, a month. Depends on the situation.”
“You mean, depends on the woman you’re entertaining. Do you really live off them? Because if we’re going to be together, we’ll have to share costs. I have to work.”
“I was kidding about the women. I actually have a real job, but I can figure out something.”
My heart swells with relief that he’s not really a gigolo. “Okay, then let’s do it. We’ll make it up as we go.”
“Sounds great.” He beckons toward the gangway where cruisers are returning from their excursions. “Shall we get on or did you want to leave?”
“Since we’re here, we might as well pick up our luggage. We still have another hour at port, don’t we?”
“Yes, we do.” He steers me up the gangway with his hand on the small of my back.
I’m so excited I chitter-chatter the entire time while we wait in line to embark. I’ve never done anything spur of the moment, but for the first time in my life, I feel truly free. I don’t even care about impressing Stephen or showing that I’m over him, because I no longer care to get revenge by living well.
