“Before you go, join me for breakfast,” he says, wearing silk pajamas, causing me to chuckle. It’s so very British of him.
“Thanks for letting me use your sofa, but I should be heading out.”
“I’ve already called a car for you. It’ll be downstairs waiting, ready to take you wherever you need to go.”
“I am so late for work.” I adjust my dress, knowing I must be wrinkled from head to toe.
Byron waves a cup of coffee under my nose. “I ordered eggs and toast,” he says. “We had quite a bit of rum last night. This will help with the hangover.”
“I didn’t have any rum. You did,” I reply, not particularly keen on breakfast, but the coffee is tempting if he ordered enough milk and sugar. “You also had a few cups of homemade moonshine, which I warned you about.”
“Oh, yeah, the John Crow Batty.” He hands me the cup of coffee, and I take it. “It’s the strongest moonshine on the island.”
“I need a lot of cream and sugar,” I mention as I sit at the dining room table. The coffee is delicious, but the smell of breakfast awakens my hunger, and I indulge in the scrambled eggs, sausage, and pastries he had delivered to his suite.
We steer clear of discussing the rally during the meal. The only sign of yesterday’s turmoil is the return of that look in his eyes, the anger I saw in them the night before. “I’m sorry about what happened at the rally.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry if my idea shocked you. I was mad and went a little overboard. Thank you for caring enough to help me gain perspective,” he laughs, “though I have a bit of a hangover.”
“Me too.” I smile. “But we did have fun, right?”
“Yes, we did.”
I stare at my plate and lift a forkful of eggs to my lips. Looking up, I see Byron watching me.
“A car will take you to the hotel,” he says.
I take a last sip of my sugary coffee and stand up. “Then I should head out.” He nods and rises to his feet. Before I realize it, he’s holding the door open, blocking the way between me and the exit. I’m not afraid of what he might do. Instead, I fear what I want him to do.
This moment feels like a mutual decision. I sink into his embrace as our lips meet. We kiss softly, thoroughly exploring each other until his arms circle my waist, drawing me close to his chest. His mouth is tender and generous. When my knees begin to tremble, I take a step back.
“I believe it’s time for me to go now.”
“Thank you once more, Zinzi.”
CHAPTER 16
VIVIAN JEAN
The SSTalamancaat Sea, Day One
Tully and I spend the first few hours aboard the SSTalamancaunpacking, sending telegrams, and strolling from deck to deck as the ship sails into the ocean. When we run into Captain O’Flanagan, Tully keeps his promise to Othella by inquiring about her mysterious stranger.
The captain informs us that I was the one to make the final reservations—Tully, Othella, Robbie, and I were the last names added to the manifest. “No one on board is unaccounted for, Othella,” I explain when we meet her and Robbie on the Saloon Deck.
“Are you sure? Maybe, I imagined seeing him.” Her eyes seem less fearful than when I saw her in Brooklyn on Pier 3.
“Good girl. We can’t have you feeling out of sorts just as we sail for Jamaica.” Katherine wraps her arm around Othella’s shoulders. “This may be the easiest part of the journey, so let’s enjoy it.”
“Katherine’s correct,” I add. “We have much to get ready for. We’ll be in Jamaica in four days.”
“Five at most,” Katherine says with a smile.
Tully is eager to play shuffleboard and backgammon so he enlists Robbie Barnes as his partner. I don’t argue. He’s still not ready to talk and I want to enjoy my first hours at sea by taking in the sights and exploring the ship. If he makes it to the dining room, I ask him to bring me a sandwich because I’m skipping today’s meal. Besides, it would be much worse if we were in the dining hall, sitting at a table with strangers, and he had nothing to say to me. What better way to show everyone our marriage is on the rocks?
After leaving the deck, I go back to the cabin and decide to spend part of the afternoon sitting in the sunshine. I call a steward and send Katherine a note, inviting her to join me on the Promenade Deck. Then, I change into appropriate cruise attire. Earlier, Katherine suggested that for our first afternoon at sea, we should look fashionably smart. I put on a pleated navy skirt, a white blouse, stockings, and T-strap pumps. I feel overdressed, but Katherine had insisted.
When I reach the deck, my dream of watching a breathtaking sunset has to wait. The sky is overcast with dark clouds and has turned the sea black, with rolling waves crashing against the ship’s hull. I’m grateful I didn’t wear a cute hat to match my outfit. I would have lost it to the howling wind. Though I am disappointed, I find the weather fascinating. Chicago’s frigid winters and sweltering summers are notorious. The city’s spring and fall often bring a fair number of sunny days and pleasant temperatures, but a storm at sea stirs my soul.
