Page 27 of The Second Chance in the Mediterranean
Cat stuck out her tongue at Roy. “We’ll see you soon, Marcella.” She disappeared out of the room.
“Go ahead. I can finish up the last bit,” Roy said, taking the dish towel I was using to dry cookware.
“You sure?”
He rolled his eyes. “I did just say that it takes me a half hour to get ready. Not that you need a lot more time,” he quickly clarified. “But you should go have fun.”
“Thanks.” I dried my hands off on my apron. “See you on deck!”
I gathered a few things from my room and carried them into the master cabin. The female half of the crew was spread out, girls standing at the mirrors in the his-and-hers heads, putting on makeup. Bottles of wine—I counted four empty ones already—littered the desk, which had been turned into a makeshift bar. And clothes were draped over the backs of chairs and along the bed.
“Yay, Marcella’s here!” Harper squealed.
I laughed, surprised by her excitement. “Uh, thanks?” I opened a wardrobe and tucked my three dress options on the rod next to fluffy bathrobes.
“She’s happy because we get to pepper you, the newbie, with questions now,” Cat explained. She held up two bottles. “Red or white?”
“Red please. Questions?”
“Yes.” Harper took a swig of wine. “Like, marry, boff, kill.”
“Marry, boff, kill?” I repeated. I took a seat on one of the beanbags that had been pulled into the room next to Cat’s chair.
“Yep, who of the crew, present company excluded, would you marry, boff, or kill? If you have to choose one.”
“I’ll go first, take the pressure off Marcella.” Bok wrinkled her nose in thought. “Marry: Dom. Boff: Xavier. And kill...” She tapped her chin and named the second steward. “Paul. Because then one of us would get a promotion, probably.”
“Oh, it’s on, girl.” Caroline, another stew, made a finger gun and aimed at Bok. “I’d fight you for it.”
“So bloodthirsty.” Bok giggled. “You next.”
Seb’s name was mentioned a lot in the marry or boff, and I fidgeted anytime someone brought him up, nervous that someone would betray their real feelings for him or cause drama. But mostly the marry and boff was ignored; instead everyone cackled over the kill and its ridiculous reasons.
“Toby, because once he told me he preferred Miller Lite beer.”
“Gio. I am so goddamn tired of all the football talk.”
“Will, who can honestly not fold a napkin for the life of him. Seriously, don’t ever let him fold napkins for the guests.”
“What about you, Marcella?” Cat turned the attention of the room to me, and it seemed to get a little quieter.
“Ah well,I guess Roy and I get along pretty well.”
Harper bit her lip. “Um, but,he’s gay.”
Cat snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s what is keeping us from marrying these guys.”
“Maybe I want to change my answer,” Bok announced. “Dom is a great father, but Roy’s fun. I think that’s a good idea, Marce. Who would you boff?”
I hedged for a moment, trying to land on a safe answer. “Probably Dom?”
Cat held my gaze while she sipped her wine. “He’s kind of a safe choice, isn’t he? More mature, probably better than most of the younger guys.”
My knowledge of Seb’s skills flashed into my memory, and I looked away. “Kill...oh, Mrs. Granger!”
Harper shot wine out her nose and the whole room erupted.
“Oh, I change my answer!” Caroline called.
