Michele Bravo and the Dangerous Moonlight, Ch 4

September 2, 1990

Before leaving the cabin, she checked her face. She was only eighteen, and she needed to look like she was in her mid-twenties, or even older. “Alice Bravo” might have a reputation among the travel-writing cognoscenti, but when you mixed with the rich and the famous you had to have an air of sophistication about yourself as well. And youth and sophistication didn’t really mix.

So Alice had explained to her.

Michele had never paid much attention to makeup – she’d never needed it. Her eyebrows were perfect arcs already, her nose was long and straight, her cheekbones high. As a mountain biker she had a natural tan, and no need for blusher. She’d worn a bit of lipstick and that had been enough.

“But not for this cruise,” her sister had pointed out, and then spent three hours teaching her how to do her face. For looking mature in daylight, and for looking all dolled up and ready to party in the evenings.

After applying a bit of eye shadow to bring out the intense blue of her eyes, a bit of lipstick, and a bit of blusher, Michele sallied forth once more.

The promenade deck that morning was well populated with strolling singles and couples, power-walkers, and even joggers.

Michele plucked out her sister’s voice-activated digital recorder from her pocket, turned it on, and began to describe what she was seeing.

“This cruise ship has several decks, each with a different name. Right now I’m walking on the promenade deck. The center line of the deck is taken up with various public access rooms, a lounge, a bar, a lounge and a bar, a couple of restaurants, an art gallery, a movie theater, and a stage theater – where the musical acts are going to perform tonight. And there are bathrooms, of course.

The actual promenade, is about twenty feet wide, made of some kind of wood….oak? Looks quite pretty actually. It runs all the way around the ship, so that joggers and people who want exercise can go around in circles as many times as they want. Alice – the ship is 3 football fields in length. I’ll leave it to you to figure out how many miles once around it is!

But the deck isn’t just for joggers. There are deck chairs everywhere, and they are already filled to capacity with sunbathers, and every once in a while, someone reading a book.

It’s ten a.m., and lots of people are out here getting their exercises. Some are in shorts and shirts like me, others are in swim suits. Oh, and we’re protected from falling overboard by a waist high railing. …I don’t see any of the actors….”

“Alice”, said Patrick.

Patrick Ardmore, her partner from last night, was suddenly at her side.

He also was dressed in mufti – plaid shorts and a white t-shirt.

“Good morning, Patrick,” said Michele, smiling. “Out for your morning constitutional?”

“That was my plan, but jeez, this ship is as long as a city block. My dogs…”

“Are killing you,” Michele finished for him.

“You got that right. You’d think they’d provide people with roller blades or something….”

“Well, I’ve promised myself I’m going to walk around the entire ship, so…”

“Sure – I’m going to grab that deck chair before someone else gets it. Care to have lunch with me today?”

“Sure. When and where?”

“How about noon straight up, in the Charing Cross Lounge?”

“I’ll be there.”

Patrick nodded and staked his claim to the deck chair, while Michele continued on her walk.

Patrick stared after her. She had a long, athletic stride. Too bad her shorts were so long, extending almost to her knee. He’d’ve liked to have seen a lot more skin…most girls these days wore their shorts right up to their buttcheeks, and she had a sweet ass…

Over lunch, Patrick said “I enjoyed last night. A memorable party to start the cruise.”

“Yes, it was fun.”

“They’re having a dance tonight in the main ballroom. I’d love to escort you to it.”

Michele smiled. Flattering…but if she were to meet Robert Wade there, she didn’t want to have an escort. On the other hand, even if she did meet Robert Wade, would she have the nerve to go up to him? Although she was 18, Michele had no fear of chatting with CEOs, politicians, or people of that ilk. After all, she’d helped her mother and sister entertain at parties that her father had given for the Airforce brass on occasion. But for some reason she was nervous meeting an actor….

“I don’t know how to dance,” she said. It was true – she didn’t. Not the type of dancing that required two people working together as a team, like the Charleston or a Tango or something of that nature.

“No problem. They’re holding classes in the Terpsichore Lounge.”

“That’s right,” agreed Michele, “I’d forgotten. All cruise long.”

“Classes every hour,” Patrick expanded. “So there’s one starting in a few minutes. I’ll be your partner.”

Michele smiled again. Nice as Patrick was, she didn’t want to be stuck with him all cruise long. Even if there was no Robert Wade….she wanted her privacy, her independence. She wanted to be able to go where she wanted when she wanted, and she was getting the impression that he wanted to be by her side every minute.

Alice had warned her about that. “Shipboard romances are very popular on cruises, Michele. The atmosphere is so heady…you’re in a world of your own for six days, seven days….”

She hadn’t expected the atmosphere to get to her….and it wasn’t going to, as far as Patrick was concerned. But Robert Wade the actor….

But how to put this diplomatically to Ardmore? She didn’t have the experience in letting men down firmly but subtly that her sister probably had, after five years of mingling with the rich and the famous, (as well as the poor and unknown too, of course). And then how humiliating it would be if she was totally wrong about Patrick’s interest her, and he was only desirous of her as a dance partner and for no other reason. Was she just being a hopeful virgin?

“What’s so funny?” asked Patrick as a chuckle escaped her.

“Sorry, I was thinking of something else. Sure, let’s go dancing.”