Replace Me

The warm sea breeze fluttered across Carrie’s creamy skin, mixing with the floral scent of the perfume she wore, leaving Robert in a dizzy state he wasn’t used to. Ordinarily, he had no trouble keeping his head on straight, but around this beautiful woman, he wasn’t quite himself.
“The ocean is so beautiful today.” Carrie held her hat tight in her hands. She’d intended to wear it, but even with the pins she’d placed, the wind was too much for it, so she’d taken it off a few moments ago and held it in her grasp. For a moment, Robert let himself think about what it would feel like to have those slender fingers wrapped tightly around his own hand. “Don’t you think?”
Realizing she’d been speaking to him, he looked up into her eyes for a moment, replaying what she might’ve said. Something about the ocean… “Oh, yes. I agree.” He hoped that made sense.
She let out a little giggle. “Are you all right, Robert?”
“I’m fine, thank you. Just… thinking about the situation with Victor.” It wasn’t the truth, but he could hardly tell her he was daydreaming about holding her hand.
“Were you able to collect your things from the cabin?” A concerned look slipped into place on her pretty face.
“Some of them.” He nodded. “But I didn’t take too long because I was afraid he’d come back from the smoking lounge and either start a fight or try to convince me, again, to continue to work for him.”
“I’m sure he’s a mess this morning.” Again, the tinkle of her laughter rang out. He liked the sound of it even more than he did the noise of the ocean wrestling around the ship. “He probably doesn’t even have his coat buttoned properly.”
“I think he’ll manage,” Robert admitted, though it would be nice to think of his previous employer walking around the boat looking a mess because of his poor choices. “At any rate, I won’t be going back to work for him now.”
“I should think not. I love the idea you have for improving motorcoach engines, and I think it’s wonderful that you’ve saved up some money. That’s very responsible of you. In all of my years of working for the Ashtons, they’ve paid me very well, but I’m afraid I've never been frugal enough to save up too much.”
“What do you prefer to do with your money?” Robert asked, doing his best not to sound judgmental. Not everyone was good at putting pennies back for a rainy day.
“Well, I do love to buy some of the nice clothing and shoes I see in the shops when I’m out with Mrs. Ashton,” Carrie admitted. “Though I never spend too much on any one item. Honestly, I’ve been sending money home to my folks, and since my parents have gotten a little older, I know they’ve slowed down a bit on the farm, so I’ve been sending a little more than I used to.” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and worked it between her teeth. Robert found himself leaning toward her, imagining how it would feel to have that same lip pressed against his. “I know my mother would rather I kept the money for myself, but I can’t bear to think of them not being able to take care of themselves.”
“That’s very noble of you,” Robert managed to say while still staring at her lip. He cleared his throat. “I think that’s a perfectly good way to spend your money. Besides, you’re perfectly happy with your employers, aren’t you? No reason to think you may need to find another place to work or anything of that nature?”
“Oh, I love them like they’re my own family,” Carrie replied. For a moment, she reached out and placed her hand on his arm for emphasis before pulling it away, her fingers curling as she pressed the same hand to her shoulder. She made a little noise in the back of her throat that made him think she was concerned that she might’ve overstepped. He wished she would’ve touched him longer. “I can’t imagine ever going anywhere else.” As she turned away from him to face the ocean she added in almost a whisper, “Unless I were to marry.”
Robert stood silently behind her for a moment contemplating that last remark. Why would she feel the need to be secretive about her wish to marry someday? Didn’t all women want the same thing? To find a man who treated her with kindness and wanted to make her his wife?
Not sure of her reasoning for implying it was a secret, he let it go for the moment and stepped up next to her.
“I don’t see any dolphins. Do you?” she asked as if they should be swimming around beside them like Lusitania’s personal guard.
“No, I don’t see any at the moment,” he confirmed. “Have you seen any on our voyage?”
“One or two. At least, I think I did. Hannah said she saw several, though I thought it might’ve just been the way the waves look when shadows linger on them. It is hard to tell, you know?” She giggled again, and he laughed along with her.
“I suppose sometimes it is difficult to tell what you’re looking at, but at other times, I think it can be crystal clear.” When Robert looked at Carrie, he saw a beautiful, intelligent, kind woman.
The kind of woman he could see spending the rest of his life with, if he was honest.
He was just about to ask her another question, something more intimate, when he heard familiar footsteps and braced himself. “There you are. My shirt is a wrinkled mess. I need you to go iron it right away.”
Victor approached them through the crowd of people walking along the promenade, straightening his cufflinks and carrying his jacket over one arm. Robert watched as his eyes bobbed to Carrie, and then returned to meet Robert’s gaze.
Amusement bubbled up inside of him as he took a look at his former employer. Victor was wearing the same shirt he had on the day before, and while it was likely not as wrinkled as the shirt he’d planned to wear that day, it didn’t look polished at all. And Victor Anderson always wanted to look polished.
Well, he was just going to have to figure out how to iron for himself.
“Excuse me?” Robert said, doing his best haughty impression. He’d heard quite a few men who were full of themselves over the years of working for Victor. “I should say not.”
Victor’s eyes bulged as he glanced from Robert to Carrie and then back again, as if he thought Carrie might take up for him. “What’s that now? Robert Crawford, now you listen to me. You work for me, if you haven’t forgotten.”
“I do believe our employment arrangement was terminated last night.” Robert stood tall. “And I don’t intend to change that any time soon.”
Huffing, Victor tapped his foot on the promenade. “Robert, listen. I need your help. I can’t go mucking about like some sort of uncivilized… barbarian.”
Robert opened his mouth to respond but found himself laughing, not at Victor’s statement so much as the cute little snort and giggle Carrie let out as she covered her mouth with one hand and tried to disguise her amusement.
“It’s not funny!” Victor shouted at Robert. “Come back to the room, and let us discuss this properly. You’ve left a good deal of your belongings behind. I figured, as soon as you were done with your… visit with Miss Boxhall, you’d come back to your duties.”
All sense of amusement vanished from Robert’s mind as he took in what Victor was implying. “I’ll have you know I slept on the couch in Mr. Jonathan Lane’s room last night, thank you very much, Mr. Anderson. And Ms. Boxhall didn’t even know I was there.”
Victor made a face, squeezing his lips together to one side of his mouth, as if he didn’t buy it, which made Robert want to thump him into the ground even more. “Very well then, I apologize.” In all the years that Robert had known him, he couldn’t remember once ever hearing Victor say he was sorry for anything. “Now, please, just come with me.”
“Give me a moment.” Running a hand through his hair, Robert turned to Carrie, trying to determine what he should do.
“Perhaps you should hear him out?” She shrugged, and it was clear to him that she didn’t mean the words at all. She’d thought so highly of him venturing out on his own. He hated to disappoint her now.
Besides, he agreed that he should start working for himself. The confidence it gave him when he spoke about his new invention, the way that Carrie and Jonathan both looked at him as if he had the capability of being someone important, the independence he found in that whisper of a dream–all of it was enough for him to know before he even excused himself from Carrie and followed Victor toward his First Class stateroom that he wouldn’t be accepting his prior position back–no matter what.
Victor muttered under his breath as they headed down the narrow hallways. Every time they passed someone he knew, he was polite, and as soon as they were gone, he’d complain about his appearance. “I look like I’m the one who slept on a deck chair.”
Clearing his throat, Robert bit his tongue. He hadn’t slept on a deck chair, thanks to the good people he now counted as friends. He’d been lucky in that regard.
When they reached the room, Victor burst through the door and immediately started giving orders. “Iron that shirt first, and for the love of God, get that scuff off my shoes. I can’t be seen wearing those at dinner tonight with that ridiculous mark all down the side.”
Robert stared at him for a moment, watching as his former employer walked over to the table and poured himself a brandy–before lunch. Rather than obliging him with his orders, he began to gather up the belongings he’d left in the room. It wasn’t much as most of his things were in his own sleeping area, and he’d gathered that the night before, but there were a few things lying about, like the brush he used to polish Victor’s shoes. That had once belonged to his father.
He also found a telegraph from his mother he’d accidentally set aside the day before. She’d wished him a pleasant journey. Well, he’d have a lot to tell her when he returned home. He shoved that in his pocket and began to walk toward the door.
Looking up from the newspaper he was now reading, Victor asked, “Where are you going?”
“Away from you.” Robert shrugged, not knowing how else to put it. “I already told you I don’t want to work for you anymore.”
“What? You have to.” Victor slammed the paper down. “Who else will do all of the things I don’t want to do?”
Chuckling under his breath, Robert said, “I don’t give a damn.”
“But–I won’t be able to replace you until we reach shore. Maybe not even then. I’ll pay you twice your salary.”
That offer might’ve been tempting if Victor paid what he could afford in the first place–but he didn’t. Opening the door, Robert stepped out into the hallway. “Good luck to you, Mr. Anderson.”
As he closed the door and headed back toward Mr. Lane’s room, he heard Victor shouting after him, calling him every name in the book. With a smile on his face, Robert just kept right on walking.