5. Grace

Chapter 5

Grace

L ater that evening, I decided to be brave and eat at one of the fancier restaurants on board—Polaris. Rafe was working, but Sebastian said he'd be able to meet me there. Because of all the earlier drama, he'd assigned a bodyguard to me, in addition to asking Kazi to stay with me. I'd thanked him gratefully. Maybe that was how other sirens handled their lures on others; they hired bodyguards.

My bodyguard was female, which made me more comfortable, and she seemed pretty cool from the little I'd been able to glean from her. Her name was Micaela, and she was a cat shifter. (I almost squealed at the news, but somehow managed to contain my excitement without scaring the poor woman.)

Micaela did multiple things on the ship. She worked as a lifeguard (cats love the sun, so that checked out), but she also worked as security whenever the need came up on board, like now. She was deadly with—she told me this with a completely expressionless face—five different kinds of weapons, including her hands. And the only time I ever saw her stutter was when I asked if she and Rafe had met.

She had scoffed, looking suddenly uncomfortable, even while she managed to eat a whole cheese platter by herself while I was getting ready for dinner. "Of course he and I have met. He's my boss."

Hmmm. So, because I'm me, I pried a little. After all, Zane and Tessa needed a happy ending in my book.

I had my eyes wide open in that ridiculous look that all women everywhere got when they put on mascara and somehow managed to ask my question without moving any muscles in my face. "And what's your impression of him?"

She scowled and cuddled the cheese platter closer to her chest, as though she was suddenly afraid some random person was going to come by and yoink it out of her hands. "He's... okay, I guess." She shrugged. "He's my boss. I don't have much to say about him."

"Uh-huh."

She glared at me and pointed. "What's that tone you've got going?"

I shrugged, got mascara on my eyelid, and sighed as I reached for the remover. "I just mean it sounds like there are some feelings there."

She shoved a cheeseball into her mouth. "You know he's an avian shifter, right?"

"So."

She scoffed. "So! Avian shifters and cat shifters do not mix well."

"You know what else doesn't mix well?"

"What?"

"Fruit on a pizza, and yet my favorite pizza is pineapple and ham, and they taste delicious together ."

She scoffed again, nibbling on a cracker. "Yeah, well, there's nothing delicious about Rafe and I."

I finished my makeup and stood in front of her. "Wanna test it?"

For the first time since I'd met her, she looked hesitant. "I don't know. I'd like to keep my job. And I don't want to make things weird between us."

"Are you at least interested in knowing if there might be something there?"

She pointed an accusing finger at me. "You're scary." And then she grinned. "I'm in. What should I do?"

I held a finger up and grabbed my walkie, tuning it to channel two. "Rafe?"

"Yes, love? Are you perishing without me by your side?"

I chuckled. "Umm, yes?"

"You do not sound convinced. Too bad I have to work, or I would try to convince you further over dinner."

"You don't like me that way, Rafe," I said with assurity.

He sighed over the walkie. "I hate to break your heart, but I do not."

I rolled my eyes. Men. "I'm actually contacting you because I found you a date for dinner, if you can break away from your duties to eat. You know, proper nutrition is important," I reminded him.

The walkie went quiet for a full minute. And then his sigh came over the channel again. "What are you getting me into, love?"

"What do you think about dinner with Micaela?"

Micaela was shoving cheeseballs into her mouth right and left, looking extremely nervous, and extremely chipmunk-faced. Her eyes were glued to me as she listened to my conversation.

"I see what you're doing," Rafe said.

"Yeah?" I asked, all innocence.

"There's only one Micaela on board, and she's a cat shifter."

"She's a very pretty cat shifter."

The walkie went quiet again. And then he came back on hesitantly. "I've kinda... noticed Micaela before."

I waggled my eyebrows at Micaela, who looked like she was suddenly going to be sick. Must have been the fifteen cheeseballs she'd shoved into her mouth in the last minute.

"Yeah? Like, noticed how?"

His chuckle warmed my heart. It told me I was overstepping, but he didn't mind so much. Whew. Crisis averted.

His tone became suddenly accusing. "Is she there with you!"

Umm, backpedal, backpedal! "Rafe, yes or no. It's a simple question." I could avoid outright accusations like nobody's business. Distract! Deflect!

He groaned. "She's beautiful," he said with a sigh. "I've wanted to ask her out for forever now. That's why I was extra prickly about your dumb book."

"My books are not dumb!" I said indignantly.

"Sorry, love. You know what I meant."

"Does that mean you'll pick us up at my suite in a few minutes?"

"Us?" he squawked, then cursed. "Do you mean to tell me that Micaela is sitting right there, listening to our conversation?" he asked with a growl.

I looked at Micaela, who was staring at me wide-eyed, her mouth gaping, looking like maybe I would need to treat her for shock soon. Was it raise the feet to heart level, or raise the feet above heart level? I could never remember.

"Umm... yes?" I cringed, waiting for him to curse at me. But he didn't.

He chuckled. "You're trouble, you know that?"

"Only the best kind, I swear!"

He chuckled again. "I'll pick you guys up in ten."

I set the walkie down on the nightstand and used a random magazine to fan Micaela. "Don't swoon on me, girl. You've got a date. You need to get ready."

She panicked and put the cheese platter down with a thump. "I don't have time to run to my room; what am I going to wear?"

I eyed her. "We look like we're close to the same size, except for our height difference. Let me see what I can find."

I opened my closet and looked through my cocktail dresses. My black lace dress hit below my knees. It might work for Micaela. I pulled it out and hurried to her. "Wear this one. It should fit. Use my makeup and hair products." When Micaela just sat there, not moving, I grabbed her by the shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "I should have checked. Are you okay with this?"

She nodded, still wide-eyed.

"Then move, woman! Go get ready!"

She jumped up like someone had rammed her with a cattle prod, then dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Kazi growl-roared, and she shrieked, then opened the door to let the cat out. He'd been asleep in the bathtub. Kazi prowled toward me and licked my bare leg, then he made a face and sneezed. I laughed at him. "It's lotion. I bet it tastes awful!"

Micaela came out, trying to pull the hem of the dress down. "Holy—Micaela, you look hot!"

She scowled at how much leg was showing. The dress only hit her mid-thigh, as she was quite a bit taller than I was, but it fit everywhere else perfectly, showcasing her curvy figure.

"What size shoe are you? I have big feet, so I doubt we wear the same size."

She gave up on the hemline and looked down at her bare feet. "I'm a ten."

"Yeah you are, girl! Just keep that in mind."

She made a face at me, and I chuckled. I thought sometimes that being a writer had made me quirky over the years, and it had also had given me an odd sense of humor, which had only gotten worse as I'd aged.

"You're in luck. That's what I wear. Let me dig out my black heels for you."

When we were appropriately gussied up, Rafe knocked on our door. Kazi opened it, and Rafe gave him a friendly pat before he looked up. He saw Micaela and stopped . He stopped moving, and he even looked like he'd stopped breathing. I wanted to remind him he had to breathe, but didn't want to break the magic that was happening right before my eyes. Oh my gosh! I was an awesome matchmaker!

My cynical side warned me to wait a while and let their relationship progress before I started slapping myself on the back, but I chose not to listen. Who needed cynicism anyway?

I used a black fabric belt from another dress to tie a bowtie on Kazi. He huffed, but allowed it. And then, we were all ready!

We entered Polaris on level five, and I looked around me in awe. Everything was shiny in here. From the glass walls looking out over the ocean to the glass tabletops. The color scheme was a pretty pastel green with light accents of gold. Micaela and Rafe were ahead of me, deep in conversation as they followed the host to our table. I tried to follow them, but when I picked up my left foot, I realized I had somehow lost my shoe. I bent down to free it from where it had wedged between a metal rivet and the floor. How on earth had I managed to do that? I yanked, but I couldn't... quite... get it.

Kazi tried to help, but he only got my hand slobbery and give my shoe some nice puncture marks. I gently pushed him away, grabbed the shoe, and yanked. It released suddenly, the force nearly knocking me to my butt. I watched wide-eyed as it flew across the dining room and landed splat in someone's parmesan ravioli. Sauce erupted from the plate, spraying all directions. The women at the table shrieked; the men bellowed, and everyone stood and shoved their chairs back, knocking them over, then stared at their table and the ceiling like it was suddenly going to start raining shoes at any moment.

I covered my mouth in horror, while trying very hard not to laugh, and that's when a sexy voice said something from behind me.

"Are you causing havoc in one of my dining areas, Grace Liora?"

I looked up at him, still frozen in horror in my free the shoe crouch, and saw that he was holding down a hand to help me up. I stood, hovering with one foot off the floor. I mean, the floor looked clean, but hundreds of feet had trampled over this very spot, probably. Who knew what germs there were on the floor!

"It was an accident?" I bit my lip, continuing to watch as one woman from the table shrieked and yelled at a harried busboy. I felt awful. Who knew that my shoes could be used as deadly weapons? I turned to Sebastian. "I'm so sorry. You see, my shoe was stuck in the metal rivet on the floor, and I couldn't get it out."

Sebastian held out a hand, forestalling more words pouring out of my mouth. "I see. It was an accident, Grace." He brushed a thumb against my cheek and I shivered. "Micaela here will help hold you steady. Let me get your shoe and help with the situation."

Micaela held out an arm, and I held onto it. "I left you alone for five seconds," she said, out of the corner of her mouth. "Does this happen often to you?"

I grimaced. "Umm, no? My problems usually come in the more human variety. Guys stalking me, that kind of thing."

She looked thoughtful. "I have one thought and one question. The question first. Have any women ever stalked you? And two, it's possible you've been going through life on high alert until now. Which could mean new facets of your personality will come out now that you're more relaxed."

I blinked at my bodyguard. "Micaela, that was profound."

She dipped her head in acknowledgement, a wry expression on her face.

"As for women stalking me? Yes, a few. The only requirement seems to be that they find me attractive and can't resist my lure."

"And they aren't already madly in love with someone, or else have a strong mind. And I disagree with you about can't resist. I think they choose not to."

I pursed my lips in thought. Huh. She might be right. "Anyway, yes, those seem to be the triggers. It's been mostly men, though."

She eyed me. "Bear or man?"

I laughed, instantly knowing what she meant. "Don't hate, but man. I think I have a better-than-average chance of getting out alive. Sebastian said that there's something mesmerizing about my musical voice, so I can just sing to them. I'm not sure that works on bears. It's an unfair question, really. There are a lot of wonderful guys out there, and probably a lot of great bears, too." I mean, I was stretching on that last one. I thought bears were just bears.

"Huh."

Sebastian came back with my cleaned-up shoe and I slipped it on. He held onto my arm as we moved toward the table that Rafe and Micaela had already claimed like I was a feeble old woman, and I had to chuckle.

I wasn't sure I could handle this level of excitement in my life.

We writers usually limited our excitement to on the page.