MAYBE THIS TIME | JENLISA

3

Lisa checked and double-checked her uniform. Since she was playing double duty as bartender extraordinaire and VIP attendant, she had to make sure the often sticky and dirty parts of the bar life didn't spill onto her VIP life. Literally.

Satisfied that she looked presentable, she jogged down I-95, the main corridor the crew used, toward the package room, but that was no small task. The I-95 was jammed with luggage still being sorted for the guest rooms, and there were dozens of crew members darting back and forth to and from the small stairways that led to the main floors. It was strict cruise ship policy that the crew goings-on were out of the public eye and behind closed, often hidden, doors.

"Slow down, Manoban," Captain Lynn Correia called out as Lisa had to leap to the left to avoid a falling suitcase.

"Captain, my Captain." Lisa gave her a broad smile. "What's good?"

Captain Correia gave her a look. "Not you if you end up in the infirmary with a broken ankle."

Lisa halted her progress to shimmy side to side before diving into a full-blown moonwalk. "I've got moves for days, Captain. Don't worry about my skills—they're impressive."

"If you say so," Correia replied. Correia was one of only a handful of female captains in the luxury cruise ship business. She'd been a decorated sailor in a past life and maintained the order and routine of her military career in the way she ran the cruise ship. But she had a pretty decent sense of humor and self-deprecation if you got to know her. She'd been Lisa's captain for going on five years now, and Lisa had been spending more and more time with her and the other officers now that she was working the VIP angle. Lisa had grown to consider the captain a friend and she knew the feeling was mutual.

Correia adjusted the cap on her long, perfectly braided silver-blond mane, of which, not a hair was out of place. Her uniform was blindingly white, and somehow all her medallions managed to glisten under the gross I-95 lighting. They really needed to spruce up the crew quarters—it was like a dungeon down here.

"Did you hear me, Manoban?"

"What?" Nope, she definitely did not. "No, I was just thinking that we could use some better lighting in here. Either that or your uniform shirt is looking a little dull."

Correia's eyes widened and she looked down. Lisa tried to hold back her laugh but failed, miserably.

"Manoban." Correia's mouth held the hint of a smile when she made eye contact with Lisa again.

"You mustn't take anything I say too seriously, Cap." Lisa gave her an exaggerated eye roll. "It's the first day of a new cruise and the last week of work before my vacation in Key West. I'm positively buzzing with excitement."

Correia laughed and shook her head. "How could I forget? It's your favorite cruise week."

Lisa looked left and right before adding quietly, "Yours, too, if I recall." Correia had been the driving force behind hosting a queer women's cruise week, something that had previously been balked at by the corporate offices. It was one of the reasons Lisa felt she and Correia got along so well. They shared a common interest. "Plan on meeting the lady of your dreams this week, Captain?"

Correia's eyes narrowed but her expression remained playful. "You know the rules, Manoban. No fraternizing with the guests. That's grounds for an immediate dismissal."

Though they were only joking, Lisa knew that rule was a non-negotiable one. Cruise ship employment contracts were for six months at a time, and aside from the basic safety and no-fighting rules, the cardinal rule here was not to get tangled in the sheets with a guest. Ever. Or else you'd find yourself at the next port with all your bags and walking papers in hand. The corporate suits didn't mess around about that. They wouldn't even fly your sorry ass home. They'd just drop you off. Lisa had seen many a colleague fall victim to lust. It wasn't worth it, not ever.