Love on the High Seas. Yasmin Y. Sullivan
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Chapter 1
Angelina Lewis fidgeted on the gangway, stuck in line with the horde of other passengers boarding the Palace of the Seas, one of the largest cruise ships on the Atlantic. It was an hour before departure, when the throng had arrived, but the line was moving along quickly.
She might even have found a way to enjoy the short wait if she wasn’t sure that at least one more person would measure her against the passport she carried. Instead, the suspense of potential exposure was unnerving her. She couldn’t believe that she’d let her sister talk her into this.
Safire had shown up with a suitcase, a ticket and her usual chipper mood, and before Angelina knew what was what, they were in her room packing.
Safire’s calm, elliptical eyes followed Angelina as she flew back and forth across the room. Her sister still wore her usual blazer and matching miniskirt—her work attire. She tugged down the skirt as she adjusted herself on the bed, letting her long curls fall across the pillow. Safire’s plump cheeks puckered from her smile—one caused by mere amusement or by some thought that was more salacious. Angelina couldn’t tell.
“I can’t do this.” Angelina tore through her closet furiously. “I have work to do. Who’ll look after Philly?”
“You have to, or it’ll go to waste. I told you. One of my bosses went into labor early, so I can’t take off now. You can bring your work with you.” Safire sprawled over Angelina’s bed observing her distraught search. “Alex and I can take care of Philly and Rose. It’s all paid for. Live a little. Please.”
Safire flipped open the suitcase she had placed on the bed. “Look, you don’t even have to pack. I was all ready to go. It has everything you need, except some shoes, some undies and your toiletries.”
“There’s barely anything in there.”
“You won’t need a lot, especially not if you find a sexy man.”
Safire winked at her, and Angelina gaped.
“I can’t be like you, running around in skimpy nothings.” Angelina knew her sister well and could imagine what she’d packed. “No, no. I can’t do this. It’s a singles cruise. What am I going to do there?”
“Mingle. Get a life. Get you some. Or just lounge, swim in the pool, see the sights. You don’t have to do the singles events. It’s a regular cruise.”
“Okay, let’s say I do this. I have to get to the bank, pack my work, pack the suitcase, situate Philly, call the neighbors—”
“It doesn’t leave until four o’clock tomorrow. All of that is doable,” Safire said. “Here. Take my passport. Put it with the ticket and the cruise information.”
“I can’t take your passport. We’ll just change the passenger information.”
“I checked. It’s too late to do that. Just use my passport. You’re my sister.”
“No,” said Angelina. “I can’t get away with being you.”
“Of course you can. Here. Now no more about it.”
Angelina shook her head. She’d be calling the cruise line herself in the morning. There would be a fee, but she would just pay it. Her sister had gotten everything else, so she could pay for that.
Now she stood on board the ship just inside the boarding ramp. One of the crew members looked toward her, and she began to hand over the passport once more. It had been too late to change the passenger manifest, so she was Safire Lewis for the next nine days.
“No, ma’am, I don’t need your passport. I wanted to give you directions. Do you have your stateroom key?”
“Yes,” Angelina answered, “but I wanted to go on deck first to see the departure. Can I do that?”
“Of course. Just follow the left line to the elevators. Six floors up you’ll find the least crowded deck right now.”
“Thank you.”
Angelina shifted her purse and her laptop carry-on from one shoulder to the other and kept step with the line. She looked ahead of her in the line to see how much farther she had to go and found a pair of simmering brown eyes peering back at her. They belonged to a handsome chestnut-brown face that was wearing an intense expression of interest—so intense that she felt naked under the sly perusal.
Angelina flushed, and her cheeks grew hot. Her hand sprang to the buttons lining the front of her dress, checking in case one had come undone. She wasn’t sure how long she held his gaze; it seemed an hour but couldn’t have been for more than a minute.
A woman behind her bumped against her, and Angelina was startled out of her reverie. She turned briefly to the woman, and by the time she turned back, the man had gone around a corner.
She could have just imagined it. He could have been looking beyond her, or he could have simply seen that she was one of the few other African-Americans there. But perhaps that also made it clear that she was alone. She might need to be a bit more careful, more aware of her surroundings.
“You need to have some fun for a change,” Safire had said.
“A singles mixer isn’t my idea of fun right now. I have a semester starting soon. I have an article I haven’t finished. I have—”
“You have to get a life is what,” Safire said and then laughed. “When was the last time you had nookie?”
“Now, listen here. I might need to talk to you about—”
“Oh, no. Don’t start in on me. I have a life. And I enjoy it just fine. This is about you. Relax a little. Meet some people. See some places.”
Angelina could tell that her younger sister was treading gently to spare her sensibilities, and it was just as well. Her sister had a mouth on her that could make a sailor blush. She envied her sister’s freedom, but for Angelina herself, a bit of reading next to the ocean would be a wonderful break. And with the passport fiasco, laying low seemed like a good idea.
When she stepped off the elevator six stories up, the line was gone. People were relaxing in lounge chairs and looking over the railing at the Port of Miami. She found a spot on the banister for the departure,