Emma almost chuckled. “Did he have to do it here? I can’t even come in here during the lunch hour for all of the sympathetic glances. It drives me crazy. The only good thing is that I don’t have to see them for a few days. They’re getting trained on the new system this week. I’m just following up, making sure everyone’s completed the course and I can do most of it by e-mail.”
“What happened to the personal touch? Everyone’s concerned because you’re hiding in your office.”
Emma shrugged.
“You’re making too big a deal out of this.”
“Am I?” She shook her head. “Why didn’t Brad just insist we have sex? I wanted sex, just not right away. I thought we should have a few dates to get to know each other before we jumped into a physical relationship.”
Tina humphed. “You didn’t have sex with Brad because there wasn’t any chemistry. A part of you recognized he was a loser.”
“Maybe.” Emma shrugged. “So I’m back to dating. And it sucks big-time. Either I hesitate and the guy turns out to be a great guy, or I jump in and the guy’s a loser. I always seem to get my heart broken or my pride stepped on. Why do we do this? It’s like a series of bad job interviews with sex.” She jiggled her leg again, “Maybe I should get my belly button pierced or a tattoo.”
Tina smirked. “You’re too practical for a navel ring. A little tattoo might be okay but you should get something like that to make a statement. It should mean something. I hate it when some guy just gets one because he’s under the influence of alcohol and a bunch of idiots convinced him to put his girlfriend’s name on his neck.”
Emma couldn’t help but grin. “Only you would think a tattoo was a rite of passage. And why do we bother with men anyway?”
Emma couldn’t admit to Tina she had always wanted a tattoo and hadn’t yet had the guts to get one.
“We bother with dating because men have better anatomical equipment than we can buy on the Internet.”
“That’s pretty crude, girlfriend.” Emma smirked.
“How long has it been since you’ve challenged yourself when it came to men? Really gone for it when it came to romance?”
“Since the word romance isn’t usually part of your vocabulary, let me guess what you really mean. This must be about the singles’ cruise to the Bahamas.”
Tina picked at the sprouts on her plate. “Darcy bugged out on me. I desperately need a roommate. I just put a huge down payment on my new condo, so I could really use the group discount they’re offering.”
“You’ve already talked some of the staff into going. And I don’t know about a singles’ cruise. It sounds kinda desperate.”
“Lighten up. It’ll be fun.”
“You can’t think you need to go on a singles’ cruise.”
“Just think of it as a love boat. I’m going because it’s a chance to relax and enjoy the company of single men. Dating takes too much time away from court.” She stretched out her arms. “I’m looking forward to hot summer nights and sultry summer days.”
Emma smiled. “You mean hot, sultry sex. But I’ve heard their cruises really do rock.”
“Come and find out for yourself.”
“You don’t need me.”
Tina took a sip of water. “Yes I do. There’s no one going that I’d want to share a bathroom with.”
“How can you have a fling, with me in your room? I might cramp your style.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll manage a fling with or without a roommate. I’ll show you how it’s done. Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Emma hesitated. “Having a fling on a cruise sounds so…dangerous.”
“Couldn’t get much worse than Brad.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Are you looking for something long-term? Do you think that’s safer? Have you looked at the divorce statistics? I know a couple of lawyers who specialize in divorce and they make a lot more money than I do.”
Emma pulled the corner of the candy-bar wrapper open. “Considering that my parents got divorced after twenty-five years of marriage, you have a valid point.”
“Go on the cruise with me, score a little romance, practice safe sex while you’re going for the gusto, and learn how to scuba or snorkel or Jet Ski even. It’ll be an adventure. Then, when you come back, everyone will be talking about you instead of your ex.” Tina winked.
Emma could imagine a little romance on a moonlit beach. It felt like a decade since she’d had sex. Could she leave the wussy behind and be a pussy-cat? She smiled at her own audacity. Tina would have been proud if Emma could have said it without blushing.
Why do I have to second-guess everything, anyway?
Even the thought of the cruise had her thinking differently. “Maybe if I were more spontaneous my life would be more interesting,” she said tentatively.
“Honey, when you run into the right man it’ll be more than interesting—it’ll be sizzling.”
“On the cruise I won’t have to look for anything further in a man than a nice tan and a great body—since I’m not taking him home or anything.” Emma pulled more of the wrapper off the candy and then she set it down again. “I wouldn’t even have to consider a future with a man I’m never going to see again. I could concentrate on living in the moment.”
“That’s my girl.”
She nodded decisively. “Let’s use the computer in my office to sign me up for the cruise. I think a moonlit beach and a gorgeous playboy might be just the thing. I could really go for it.”
“Just so long as it is covered with a condom.”
“I’m going to do anything and everything on this cruise.”
Tina laughed. “Down, girl. Be gentle.”
Emma smiled to herself as she got up to choose a rice bowl. She reached into the freezer looking for the chicken in spicy peanut sauce she’d grabbed by mistake in the grocery store. She ripped the wrapper before she could change her mind.
“You know,” she told Tina as she thrust the bowl into the microwave and then headed toward the table to scoop up the chocolate “I think I might have developed an appetite after all.” Emma bit into the delicious white chocolate with a smile of pure ecstasy. “I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for. From now on I’m going to be eating my dessert first.”
TONY ENDERLIN looked around the tiny stateroom with trepidation. “Why did I think this would be okay?” he asked himself aloud, fighting a severe case of claustrophobia. “I shouldn’t be here.”
In all fairness the cabin wasn’t tiny and the ceiling was high enough for his six-foot frame to clear with room to spare, but it was the illusion of smallness that had him breathing hard. The way the doors sealed made him feel as if there wasn’t enough air in the room.
Once, when he’d been six years old, he’d followed his cousin into one of those big, silver drainage pipes and then his cousin had hidden from him. In his hysteria Tony had actually run the wrong way, into a smaller pipe, where he’d tripped over the carcass of a long-dead animal and then slid into a puddle of rank water.
Small debris had fallen down on him every time he’d tried to get to his feet so he’d huddled in the dark with his imagination on Fast Forward while his body was firmly on Pause. That had been the longest twenty minutes of Tony’s life. He’d been unable to move, even when his cousin had finally located him. That panic always crept back to choke him in closed-in areas, despite