Page 28 of Love Overboard
A deafening crescendo jolted Emily from her musings. The MC dashed from behind the curtain and bellowed into his microphone.
“We hope you’re enjoying the entertainment, ladies and gentlemen. You’re going to love this next guy, a new addition to our Monarch family. We imported him straight from Ireland for your entertainment pleasure. Please put your hands together for Seamus O’Riley.”
A man in his late sixties dressed in an old-fashioned tuxedo with pointy tails, white silk vest, and matching bow tie strutted onstage carrying a small magician’s table with a black velvet cloth covering the top. Streaks of silver ran through his Celtic red hair.
“Saints preserve us, we have a beautiful crowd tonight.” He wore a face mic and gestured at the auditorium with both hands.
Gerry squirmed. “Is that accent for real?”
“Shhhh.” Daisy smacked her well-manicured fingers on her friend’s arm.
“Are you ready to be amazed?” The magician walked to the edge of the stage and cupped his hand to his ear.
Cheers and whistles answered.
“Let’s heat things up.” He clapped above his head, and a fireball shot from his fingers.
“Oh, mercy!” Althea jumped, clutching the front of her shirt.
Seamus looked at the row of Shippers. His focus swept the four ladies, resting a few seconds longer on Gerry, who sat with her arms crossed over her chest. He reached behind his back, and a full-size top hat appeared. Seamus placed the chapeau at a jaunty angle on his head and patted the crown.
“Let me ask you,” he said. “What does a magician always require?”
“A rabbit,” someone called.
“Can’t stand the furry beasts.” Seamus shook his head. “No. I was referring to a beautiful assistant.” He plucked a microphone from under the cloth on his table, shielded his vision against the bright spotlights, and studied the audience. “Is there anyone willing to volunteer?”
Althea raised her hand and pumped it up and down. “Ooooh. Right here!”
His gaze lowered to the row in front of him. “Wait. I found the perfect lady.” He hopped off the stage, stood in the aisle, and held the microphone out to Gerry.
The woman drew herself taut with the austerity of fifty years in the public library system. “I did not volunteer.”
“Maybe you were volun-told.” Seamus’s green eyes sparkled, and the audience laughed and cheered.
“Do it, baby.” Althea pushed her off her seat and into the aisle.
Gerry’s lips pinched together, but she took the mic and followed the magician, ignoring the hand he offered her at the steps. They reached center stage and stood side by side. She topped him by a full head.
He grinned up at her. “I always did fancy someone taller.”
“Me too,” Gerry droned into the microphone.
The crowd roared.
Seamus made a dramatic show of wiping his brow. “I think I’ll need all the fairies in Ireland to help me with this one.”
Emily chuckled at her friend’s embarrassing predicament, but her attention wandered as she scanned the room again. Gilded Corinthian columns rose from the ground floor to the balcony. Every seat was full. Staff in white uniforms walked the aisles, serving trays of refreshments to the passengers, but still no sign of Lacey. Was she avoiding them? Emily’s conscience prickled. If the girl detested the idea of a relationship that much, perhaps they should leave her alone.
No. Lacey deserved to be happy, whether she wanted to be or not. Emily wasn’t sure what had locked the poor girl up tighter than a fortress, but Jon might be the man who could scale the unbreachable walls of her heart.
“Don’t act so pained, my darlin’.” Seamus beamed at Gerry as he waved to a stagehand behind the curtain. “One trick to go.”
Two crew members wheeled out a tall black box with a window cut out of the front.
Gerry glared at the massive prop. “You don’t expect to lock me in that thing, do you?”
“Only if I can climb in with you.” He elbowed her. “Two’s company.”
