First Class Dinner

The tinkle of silverware on fine china and the murmur of laughter filled Carrie’s ears as she sat comfortably in her new seat in the First Class dining lounge. While her view of the ocean was partially blocked now, due to a column in the way, she preferred this seating arrangement to the one she’d endured the evening before.
Jonathan introduced the two of them to the three other couples sitting at the table. Everyone smiled politely, the couple to their left stating that they were the Gordon family from London. They seemed a bit more reserved than the other people at the table.
“Tell us about yourselves,” a woman just a few years older than Carrie, by the looks of her, insisted, raising her glass of wine before she took a sip. Her short brown hair was cut fashionably, with a small curl that framed her face, and her blue gown was elegantly decorated with tiny gems that might’ve been real sapphires. “Are you a couple?”
Jonathan, who’d been taking a bite of his chicken, nearly choked. As he coughed, Carrie patted him on the back and answered for them. “No, no. Just good friends.”
“Ooh.” The woman waggled her eyebrows at them in a way that implied that she believed they were sneaking around together for some reason. Carrie probably should’ve been offended, but there was something about this woman that made it all seem like it was in jest.
“You’ll have to excuse my wife,” the man next to her said, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair as he smiled over at her. “Maude has a way of being quite cheeky when she wants to be. It’s all in good fun, though.”
“Oh, Lloyd, allow a woman a little bit of scandal in her life, won’t you?” Maude said back, tapping him on the chest with the back of her hand.
“We share an employer,” Jonathan finally managed to get out. Knowing how important it was to him to keep up the charade of being interested in women, Carrie didn’t dare to say more about his particular situation. “Carrie and I are traveling together on business.”
“Shame,” Maude said, taking a long sip of her wine. “My version is much better.”
The older gentleman sitting on the other side of Lloyd chuckled under his breath. “I’m Richard Shaw, and this is my wife Wilma.” He gestured at the woman on his other side who gave Carrie a curt smile. “Where were the two of you seated last night?” His tone was congenial, full of curiosity.
“We were seated over there,” Jonathan explained, gesturing in the general direction of their former table.
“And why did you ask to be moved?” Wilma wanted to know.
Carrie opened her mouth to answer, but before she could get any words out, Maude spoke up. “Were you seated by Victor Anderson?”
Unsure of how to respond, Carrie raised an eyebrow, mulling over her words.
“Because,” Maude continued, “I know first-hand what a jackass he can be.”
“Language, dear.” Lloyd shook his head slightly and picked up his glass. Carrie assumed by his tone that he didn’t really mind if she swore but felt obligated to attempt to rein her in.
“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” She leaned over closer to Carrie. “He can’t seem to keep it in his pants to save his life.”
Her eyes bulging, Carrie tried not to laugh. Maude was so different from most of the wealthy women she was used to seeing in places such as this. How lovely was it to think one could be so direct and open?
“Whatever she’s saying, pay her no mind.” Lloyd gave an exasperated sigh. “The two of them have known one another for years, and they simply don’t get along.”
“How could we? I found him coming on to my lady’s maid in the women’s lounge at a young girl’s birthday party one year. It was very inappropriate.” Maude shook her head.
“Seems she does know what the word inappropriate means.” The remark from Wilma was so quiet, Carrie almost wasn’t sure she heard her correctly until Maude scoffed. It seemed Jonathan and Carrie weren’t the only ones unenamored by their original tablemates.
“Mr. Anderson is a unique individual,” Jonathan said, trying to keep the conversation as tempered as possible. Carrie knew he would never say something bad about someone like Victor in public, not unless it was completely warranted.
“And what do you do for a living?” It was clear that Richard was trying to change the subject.
“We are in the employment of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Ashton,” Jonathan explained.
“Oh, lovely family.” Wilma finally approved of something.
As dinner went on, the conversation flowed freely amongst three of the couples while the fourth sat in near silence. Carrie assumed they simply didn’t want to partake in the chatter, which was fine with her. Though she often felt the heavy gaze of someone seated across the room from her, she refused to turn her head to look in the direction of Victor Anderson. If he wanted to continue to obsess over her, that was his choice, but she refused to play his games.
By the time they were finished eating, she was glad she’d gotten to know Maude and hoped they’d be seated by each other for the rest of the trip. She was an amusing, intriguing woman, someone Carrie wished she could be more like. Of course, she’d never have Maude’s wealth, but she thought she could get along just fine with only half her wit and charm.
“Come along, Carrie,” Jonathan said as they left the table. “I’ll walk you back to your room.” He offered his arm like a true gentleman.
“Oh, no, Jonathan. You need to go spend some time in the lounge. Lloyd and Richard both said they were headed there. You should go continue your discussion.” The gentlemen had been discussing some sort of improvement to one of the machines they all used in their factories, and while Carrie wasn’t interested enough to pay too much attention, she knew it was important to Jonathan. It was information he could pass along to Mr. Ashton.
Jonathan’s eyes scanned the room. Carrie could tell he was looking for Victor. She looked around, too, but Mr. Anderson was nowhere to be seen. She found herself letting go a sigh of relief. Not having to worry about the penetrating stare of the billionaire who simply wouldn’t leave her alone filled her with relief.
“I’ll walk you back to the room and then go to the smoking lounge,” Jonathan insisted, patting her hand where it rested on his arm. “That way, I won’t have to worry about you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me now,” she insisted. “There will be plenty of people out strolling this evening, just like there were last night after dinner. Besides, Mr. Anderson is likely already in the smoking lounge. He will want to take advantage of the opportunity to force everyone else to listen to how intelligent he is.”
Chuckling, Jonathan said, “While that’s likely true, I’d feel better if you let me escort you.”
Just then, one of Jonathan’s acquaintances Carrie recognized from New York called out to him to come with them to the lounge. “There, you see? You have to go. I’ll be fine.” They were nearly at the promenade now, and she didn’t want to keep him any longer. The sun had gone down over the horizon, but a golden band radiated across the surface of the ocean in the distance. It didn’t even seem like night yet. Nothing at all seemed unsafe about walking back to her room alone. She could even hear chatter and laughter from other people walking along the deck.
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, arching an eyebrow, before he finally said, “Fine. I’ll go. But if Victor isn’t there, and he doesn’t materialize quickly, I’ll be following you.”
“Deal.” Carrie patted him on the shoulder and turned away from him, giggling as she went. Jonathan was always so protective. It was one of the things she liked most about him.
She took her time walking along next to the railing, looking out over the inky sea. Her mind began to wander to the possibilities that lie out there, beyond the horizon. What if she didn’t go back to New York City? What if she hopped on another boat in Britain and headed off on a new adventure?
“Well, I guess you weren’t too fond of the company at our mutual table last night?”
Victor’s voice startled her. Carrie turned to find him standing in the shadows, leaning on the side of the ship, a cigarette hanging from between his lips. As he strolled over toward her, he dropped it on the deck and mashed it out.
Something about the look in his eyes was frightening to her. She spun around, looking for someone nearby who could potentially help her, but the crowd from before was gone. Either they had headed off to their rooms already or strolled right past her to a different part of the ship. The sky grew darker by the moment, and she was all alone–with Victor Anderson.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson,” she began, trying to step around him.
“Call me Victor.” His hand clamped down on her elbow. “We’re about to get to know each other quite well, Miss Carrie. No reason for formality.
Carrie attempted to yank her arm free of his grasp, but his fingers sank into her skin. Pain radiated up her arm. “Let go of me,” she insisted. “You’re hurting me.”
A maniacal laugh seeped from between his lips. “Oh, come on. Girl like you? I bet you like it rough.”
Offended and terrified, Carrie tried to get away again, wondering where Jonathan was. Surely, he’d come and check on her soon since Victor obviously wasn’t in the lounge. She tried to look over his shoulder, back the way she’d come, but he moved to block her view. Had she walked too far when she was lost in her thoughts?
“Come on. Let’s go back to my room, and I’ll show you how a real man feels when he’s deep inside of you.” Victor took a few steps backward, tugging on her arm. “I know you feel like you have to keep up the facade of not wanting me, but there’s no one around. You can drop the act.”
“I’m not acting. Let me go!” Carrie pulled back with her arm as hard as she could and brought the heel of her shoe down on his toe. Victor groaned and let go of her momentarily, giving her enough time to take a few hurried steps away from him, but he recovered quickly, his hand darting out to snatch her by the arm again.
“You little–” Victor began, but he was quickly cut off by a deep voice resounding from the shadows.
“I believe she said no.”
Carrie’s breath caught in her throat as she peered into the darkness. Who was this man who’d come to rescue her? It wasn’t Jonathan. He was too tall to be her friend. With her heart racing in her chest, she prayed he was there to help and not another man who thought he could take advantage of her simply because she was alone.