I could’ve repeated the incidents that led up to our impending doom, but he wasn’t worth the extra breath. “Never again, Dick.”
Dirk placed his hands on his waist and lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. “You know, Bash, when we first talked about this musical, it seemed like the dream partnership, with you behind the music and me behind the desk.”
“You mean you thought I could make all the magic while you pulled all the strings and made all the decisions.” I raised my hands and slapped them against my thighs. “Look how far that got us. We’re about to get on some boat to perform for strangers who give just as many fucks about Broadway as they do about their fancy dinners.”
“Oh, what do you know about Broadway? You had a four-month stint and think you’re the expert? If you had any appreciation for the stage, you would have stayed in your own lane, Bash. You’ll never be allowed on a New York stage again, with all that you pulled.”
I barked out a laugh. “You are brilliant, man, just brilliant. Try taking some responsibility for a change.” I took a step forward so that I was less than an inch from his face. “You ruined my fucking life,” I growled before placing a palm to his chest and pushing. When he stumbled backward, I matched his distance with a step of my own. “I cannot wait for the day that this contract ends, to finally go our separate ways.”
Dirk’s jaw twitched. “You can always sign the show over to me, and we can do that now.”
I shook my head. “And give you everything I’ve worked towards for the past seven years? Not happening, Dick. Besides, you know my name was all over that marketing campaign that led to selling out the cruise season. You tell them I’m no longer in the actual show, and you risk being the reason for every single cancellation. Explain that one to the cruise line.” I waved a hand in the air. “We’re not arguing about this again. One run on this damn ship, and then our time together is over.”
“For someone who wants to get back to Broadway so badly, you sure as hell don’t show it.”
“You aren’t my only way back.”
Dirk laughed. “Okay, Bash. Whatever you say. Are we done here now? I’ve got an audition to finish up.”
He wouldn’t listen to me. He’d have his audition, but he’d have a hell of a time keeping anyone when they found out they’d never have a chance to play on that stage.
I pushed through the door and walked back out to where everyone was waiting and smiled at the kid behind the piano as I crossed, tapping it with my palm. “Make sure to read the small print, kid. You get the part, you’ll only play if the lead is absent. And mark my words—I will never miss a show.” I threw my glare over my shoulder, pinning a flustered Dirk with it. “Never again.”
Chapter 13
Kai
My ribs didn’t stand a chance against the drumming of my heart. It was beating so fast, so hard, it felt like it was going to burst through skin and bone just to escape my mix of emotions at stepping onto the monstrosity in front of me.
White and standing more than fifty feet above the water was the biggest vessel I’d ever seen. I’d seen cruise ships before. Living in LA made them impossible to ignore, with tourists frequenting the harbor and downtown shops in San Pedro like a freaking parade was coming through the city. But this was the first time I ever saw one up close, looming majestically over the shore.
The exhilaration I felt in its presence was something unexpected—something strangely… refreshing. And despite my darkest memories and fears, I couldn’t help feeling a little excitement at what I was about to do. This was a luxury cruise ship on its maiden voyage, for heaven’s sake, and I was going to get to dance the lead to guaranteed full houses every single night.
Confidence blasted through me as each step brought me closer to the entrance ramp of the ship. But all it took was a seagull squawking overhead to make my insides scream back with resistance. I froze again and turned to Wayne.
“I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” I shook my head, my thick brown hair tossing around my face, sticking to my lips and the sweat seeping from my pores. I was a hot mess, literally, and ready to hop on the next bus out of town if Wayne refused to take me away. “Maybe I shouldn’t have lied on that application.” My panicked eyes flitted to my best friend’s. “Maybe I should have told them how anxious I am.”
He tilted his head, signaling his disagreement. “I don’t know, Kai. They probably would have never let you take the job. And then what?”
My eyes lit up with my last-ditch effort. “Then I’d live with you.”
Wayne sighed. “Stop. You’ll be docked for a whole month before you set sail. You can come on and off the ship as you please. Think about it. This is the perfect transition from land to sea. There’s nothing to freak out about.”
My eyes were wide as I turned toward him. “There’s nothing to freak out about? Tell that to my corpse after I keel over from a heart attack.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Or how about you take that prescription the doctor gave you for your anxiety and get yourself through this? At least until you get used to being on board.”
I sighed, wondering how I’d forgotten all about that. “I should probably take that. But it won’t help me forget what happened to him, Wayne. Nothing will.”
“Of course not. But there is a way to compartmentalize the pain of it and get back out on the water.” Wayne clutched my hand. “No one is saying it will be easy, but I think you owe it to yourself to try this. I think he’d want you to. Don’t you?”
I nodded, wishing I could physically remove the heaviness on my heart. I need to do this. For me. For my father. “I know. You’re right.”
He pushed out a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be with you all day. You’ll be okay. I promise.”
I wished my friend’s promise was enough to make me truly feel okay. At the same time, I believed what he was saying. Once I stepped onto the Monster of the Seas or whatever the ship was called, I’d start to get over the crippling memories.
I might not ever pull that “king of the world” bullshit like Jack in Titanic, but I’d done enough research over the past month to know that cruising was nothing like sailing a forty-two-foot yacht. For instance, the risk factor was greatly lessened. In fact, cruising was one of the safest forms of recreation and travel. With the odds of dying being roughly one in 6.25 million, cruising seemed safer than crossing a busy street.
Stats wouldn’t be enough to cure me, but they definitely calmed me some. So I took a deep breath, repeated words of affirmation to myself, and let Wayne guide me up the short ramp that reached the first deck of the Royal Athena.
A security guard stood at the open doorway between the ramp and the wide-open door of the ship. I handed him my staff cruise card, which he inserted into a tall rectangular machine, and once it gave him the green light, he handed it back with a smile.
“Welcome aboard, Miss Ashley.”
“Thank you.”
He gestured for me to step inside while he took Wayne’s guest card. Then he went through the same procedure before handing the card back and nodding. “Welcome aboard, sir.”