Chapter 20
The ship’s hornwakes me the next morning. I yawn and stretch, then blink at the light coming in from the balcony window. Somehow, I forgot to pull the blinds last night.
Chills spread through my body. Someone could have been watching me, or whoever put the shell in my room opened the blinds for that purpose.
I left my phone charging on the nightstand and check the time. It’s almost noontime. I majorly overslept, but then, we’re out at sea, and there’s nothing to do but look at the ocean.
I look out the window. There’s no sign of the islands, not even in the distance. Nothing but blue water rising and falling, still calm, thankfully, but boring.
Then I slap myself. I’m supposed to have as much fun as I can before disembarking. There’s no way I’m going to mope around inside this room, hidden away, and curse myself for trusting the wrong people.
Stephen is the past. Done and gone.
Jordan is a mere whisper in the moment. Also gone.
My future is entirely my own.
I take a long shower and get dressed in my red dirt outfit. At least it’s not a flowery aloha gown like the other tourists are wearing.
Someone knocks on my door. “Room service.”
“Room service?” I ask. “I don’t think I ordered any.”
“J. Reed and Guest, right?” the man’s voice confirms.
“Guest, yes, but no J. Reed here,” I grumble and open the door.
A server wheels in a cart with several covered dishes and champagne in an ice bucket. I check him out to make sure he’s not anyone in disguise, but he doesn’t resemble anyone I know.
Besides, I’m not going to say anything while he’s in the room.
He uncovers the silver serving platters, and arranges a place setting for two, then pops the champagne and pours two flutes.
He sets a gorgeous centerpiece of Hawaiian flowers and foliage, with red, green, and orange colors, on the table, and then lights a scented candle.
I sign for the food and tip the server, then sit still after he leaves. I’m not expecting anyone to join me, but then, I wouldn’t put it past Jordan to jump out of a closet or roll out from under a bed—except there’s simply no space inside my cabin for such tricks.
Who eats oysters for breakfast?
And caviar?
At least the grilled cream cheese and jam sandwiches look tasty, and the coffee makes my mouth water.
No one pops through the door or descends through the ceiling tiles, so I decide to eat by myself. I shake out the napkin to put on my lap, and a piece of paper flutters to the ground, along with a shell necklace, the kind of lei they give you at luaus.
Okay, I get it.
Jordan isn’t showing himself, but he’s sneaking messages to me. I loop the necklace around my neck and read the note.
Leap before you look.
Seize tomorrow before it comes.
I’ll jump before you jump.
Sow the whirlwind and fly.
“Corny,” I say out loud, shaking my head. “But I’ll enjoy your breakfast. Looks like you screwed up. Leaped before looking, sowed the whirlwind and reaped catastrophe.”
