Michele Bravo and the Dangerous Moonlight, Ch 6

Dangerous Moonlight Chapter 6: Dangerous Moonlight

September 3, 1990

After breakfast the next morning, Michele put on her swim-suit, a dark blue one-piece; a white terry cloth robe, and flip-flops. The Britannia had several swimming pools – four of them on the lido deck aimed at children and families, and a couple on a lower deck suitable for adults who wished to swim in relative quiet.

She had heard the term “lido deck” when she’d watched re-runs of that 1980s tv series, the Love Boat, but had never thought about what it meant. The literature with which she’d been provided explained it. “The term lido comes from the Lido di Venezia on the sandy barrier beach that encloses the Lagoon of Venice, where sea-bathing took place from the later nineteenth century.”

The passengers had not been asked to use 1920s swimsuits when they made use of the pools, so the men were bare-chested, and most of the women wore bikinis, some of the skimpiest variety possible. They also weren’t swimming, but rather relaxing on deck chairs getting a tan.

Three of the pools on the lido deck were devoted to children – one was two feet deep, one four feet deep, another very deep, with water slides for the kids, and adults.

The pools were all fresh water, and kept at a comfortable temperature.

After swimming for a while, Michele found a deckchair and relaxed, watching the little children frolicking in their baby pools, their faces filled with joy at the experience. Michele enjoyed their enjoyment, without feeling the least bit maternal about it. She liked kids, as long as they were other people’s kids.

After an hour, though, this palled. Time to leave this fun fest. Because she was a completionist, she decided she’d finish the pool project that very day. She’d go down to the pool reserved for adults only and dip her toes in that for a few minutes.

But she found the pool…and it was a beauty…deserted. It had been divided into 8 lanes – it was strictly for swimming laps.

Michele dove right in.

A few minutes later, as she performed a flip turn to start another lap, she saw that she had company. A man had entered the pool and begun doing laps as well. She had chosen to swim in the center lane…he had taken the far right lane.

Michele swam on and on, enjoying the exercise. These were her two sports – swimming and mountain biking.

After about 30 minutes, she came to the edge of the pool and levered herself out. She grabbed up her towel and started drying herself off, when her swimming partner ended his laps and levered himself out of the pool as well.

She recognized him immediately. It was Robert Wade.

Robert Wade…a couple of inches taller than she was, nice tan, well muscled with a well-defined six pack and a broad, hairless chest that showed his pectorals off nicely, and a smile on his face.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she squeaked back.

This was it, she thought. This was her chance. Say something clever!

She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. The old standby when talking to an actor was, “I really enjoy your work,” but since she’d never seen anything he’d been in, that might turn out awkward. She could say, “Nice body,” because that would be nothing less than the truth, but while guys could get away with saying that to a woman, a woman sure as hell couldn’t say that to a guy….unless she was a certain type of woman looking for a certain type of guy!

“The old double standard,” she murmured.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I meant, this is a nice pool. I’m surprised we’re the only two people here.”

“Well, I suppose most people like to be in the pool on the lido deck so they can enjoy the sunshine. It’s only serious swimmers like us who use this one.”

“Yes. I….do you swim this time every day….” (Oh, God, what a question to ask!)

He grinned. “Yes, I like to get my work out in early.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Sure.”

With a final wave of her towel, Michele walked into the women’s locker room, whereupon she proceeded to stuff her towel into her mouth and then scream around it.

After that, she felt better. After all, she hadn’t done too bad. She’d given herself another day to read upon him – thank heaven for the internet – and he had looked genuinely pleased that they’d see each other the next morning.

If he shows up, she thought darkly.

Then…. Of course he will! And I’ll be ready, next time.