Page 35 of Companion Required

Chapter Fifteen

Kennedy

Kennedy woke late the next morning to an empty bed. After using the bathroom, he descended the stairs into the main living area. Only then did he notice the curtain billowing softly into the room. Out on the sun-drenched terrace, Kieran sat at a beautifully arranged breakfast table complete with pristine white tablecloth and laden with a mouth-watering assortment of breakfast victuals—a basket of Danish pastries and croissants, a jug of fresh orange juice, a fruit bowl, a rack of golden toast and two plates covered by silver domes. In sunglasses and white bathrobe, his feet crossed at the ankles up on the chair seat, a knee on either armrest, Kieran sat texting on his smartphone.

“Morning, dear,” he said, looking up and grinning. “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. Hope you don’t mind I’ve started breakfast without you. Simeon brought you a double espresso—just now, so it’s still hot—said to ring if you needed anything else. And I mean, anything Mr Grey needs.”

As he moved around the table to take a seat opposite, Kennedy tried hard not to smile at Kieran’s impression of Simeon.

“What’s my laptop doing here?” he asked, noticing his computer sitting on his placemat.

“I put it there,” said Kieran. “Is that okay? I noticed how you always checked emails first thing in the morning at breakfast at your parents’ place. So I saved you the effort of fetching it.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t need to.”

Kieran shrugged nonchalantly before reaching for his coffee cup. To be honest, Kennedy appreciated the gesture, liking the fact that Kieran had noticed his habit of keeping abreast of news and work first thing in the morning.

“Steph’s managed to blag a member of the cruise staff to let you two use one of the nightclubs this afternoon to practice your routine. Between two and three. They don’t open to the rest of the passengers until four-thirty, so they can let you use the space for an hour. Shall I tell her yay or nay?”

“You’re texting Steph?”

“We set up a chat group last night. Pete, Steph, Laurie and me. Shall I add you?”

“No, thank you.”

“And how about this afternoon?”

Kennedy’s mood hadn’t improved overnight, but he needed to lighten up around his friends, otherwise he was going to bring them all down.

“What the hell. Tell her yes.”

“Excellent. This I cannot wait to see.”

“You’re not going to be there.”

“The hell I’m not. I want to see everything you’ve got, Kennedy Grey.”

“We’re sharing a bed now. I’d be careful how you phrase things like that around me.”

This time Kieran tilted his head back and laughed into the morning. Kennedy chuckled along with him. Pouring coffee for himself, he realised how lucky he was to have chosen Kieran. His mood had already improved.

“Can I say,” said Kieran, grinning playfully, “and please don’t take this the wrong way—but, at a stretch, I could imagine you having interests outside work. Squash, chess, tennis, swimming, art collecting—big game hunting, even. But ballroom dancing?”

Once again, Kennedy found himself smiling. Kieran had correctly nailed him as being someone who enjoyed individual as opposed to team sports. Steph, who had also grown to love ballroom dancing as a kid, had been astonished to find out he could dance when they’d first met up at university.

“Mum and Dad. Every Saturday morning for two years, my sister and I were dragged off to dance lessons. I think he thought I’d follow in his footsteps later in life, you know, diplomacy. And because he—they—had to attend a number of formal occasions and social functions throughout the year, being able to do the basics, like the waltz, quickstep, foxtrot and tango, went with the territory. At first I hated it—I’d have been eight at the time, stuck in a hall with a bunch of prissy girls—but there’s a discipline to dancing, a strategy to the moves, and even within that strict control, there’s a feeling of freedom, of letting go.”

Kennedy had been staring out to sea, the rim of the coffee cup held against his lip. When he turned his head, Kieran had an odd look on his face, something Kennedy hadn’t seen before.

“Hidden depths?” asked Kieran.

“Hey, I’m not saying I’m any good. But Steph and I usually move well together, and if things go wrong, we’re pretty good at faking it.”

“Shit,” said Kieran, his face dropping. “Talking of faking it, I need to confess to something. Yesterday, when I spoke to Joey, Patrick’s boyfriend, I was probably a little more candid about myself than I ought to have been. And you know the old expression ‘small world’? Turns out it is. I know his sister, who also knows Jennifer, my ex-girlfriend.”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“If he talks to her about me, he’ll find out I’m not really gay.”

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