Page 1 of Dreamboat

CHAPTER ONE

Delia

“Would you care for a glass of champagne, Miss Hawthorne?”

I’m a lifelong New Yorker, so alarm bells start ringing in my head when I hear a stranger say my name.

It takes me no more than a millisecond to quiet that down because the passenger ID badge with my name and picture printed on the front of it is dangling between my breasts from a royal blue lanyard.

It wouldn’t be my first choice of an accessory for the red and white sundress I’m wearing, but it’s a necessary part of my ensemble for the ‘meet and greet’ portion of my evening.

“Sure,” I volley back with a slight smile.

When my younger brother handed me the information packet for this cruise along with a half-hearted “Happy Birthday, Delia,” I was stunned.

I’ve never told Callum that I wanted to go on a cruise to the Caribbean because I didn’t, but he saw fit to buy me a ticket complete with meals and drinks so I could spend five days on the ocean with several hundred people I’ve never met.

The server hands me a tall crystal flute filled with a blush pink bubbly liquid. “Here you go, Miss Hawthorne.”

“It’s Delia,” I tell him as I trade him the champagne for one of the five dollar bills I have tucked in the pocket of my dress.

During the flight from New York City to Miami, I looked up ship tipping etiquette online because the last thing I want to be is someone who doesn’t know the unspoken rules of the sea.

The results of that search were mixed.

Some cruisers on the forum I found wrote that it’s unnecessary to tip on an all-exclusive package, while others commented to tip to your heart’s content.

My heart is telling me that it can’t be all fun and games to handle overzealous passengers and everything that comes with that.

“Wow,” he mutters under his breath. “Thank you. I’m Clever, by the way.”

“Are you now?” I grin as I down half the champagne in one gulp.

“That’s my name,” he further explains to chase away my assumption that he’s clever in a smart kind of way.

“Your name is Clever?” I spit out before I raise the glass to my lips again.

His blue eyes are a perfect complement to his scruffy blond hair.

That online forum I scanned also had a section for anonymous cruise confessions. Let’s just say that it’s not unheard of for the staff to indulge in a little extra fun with the passengers.

It’s going to be a never for Clever and me, though.

I’m not looking for a hook up on this trip. I’m here to enjoy the sun and the two Caribbean ports that promise delicious treats and white sandy beaches that stretch on for miles.

This is the first time I’ve ever taken a vacation alone, and although I’m still reluctant to be here, carving five days out of my life for nothing but relaxation may be just what I need.

“It’s cool, right?” His perfectly straight white teeth gleam bright as he smiles. “My real name is Marvin, but I’m a magician in training. Clever sounds better on stage.”

“You’re a magician?” I ask before finishing the champagne. “How long have you been doing that?”

Without questioning me, he plucks the empty flute from my fingers and replaces it with a full one from the circular tray he’s been balancing on one palm.

I tried waiting tables once years ago. Carrying a tray with more than an empty plate and fork was beyond my skillset, so I was unceremoniously fired partway through my first shift.

“Two years.” He nods. “So I was nineteen when I started. I want my name to be lighting up the Vegas strip by the time I’m twenty-five.”

“You’ll do it,” I say to encourage him because who doesn’t occasionally need to hear that someone has blind faith in them?

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