DOUBLE KNOT Read Online Free PDF Page B

She’s trying to distance herself.”
    Mother and her defense mechanism stared at us. We squirmed under the scrutiny. My
     Caribbean cruise was off to a choppy start. First Jessica, now Mother, what next?

THREE

      
    Probability Stateroom 704, all three thousand and eight hundred square feet of it, had one owner’s
     and two grand suites. In addition, there were crew quarters somewhere: one for the
     butler, one for the stateroom attendant, and one for the chef. The owner’s suite was
     (Bianca’s) mine. Fantasy and Mother were in the grand suites on the opposite end,
     a good jog away. Between all the suiteness were luxuriously appointed living spaces,
     including a totally private veranda that ran the length of 704 on the starboard side
     of the ship. The balconies were staggered from deck to deck, so we were the only ones
     with access to ours and no other passengers could see us. In the middle of the veranda,
     a pool. Behind the pool, a private sundeck. Each of the fifty suites on Probability were just as secluded as ours and had private pools. In spite of things not going
     quite swimmingly just yet, we had everything we could ever need or want for a fabulous
     vacation.
    Let the fabulous part begin.
    “How long have you been here?” I asked Mother and Fantasy.
    “Not long,” Mother said.
    “A while,” Fantasy said.
    “Have you looked around?” I asked.
    “I unpacked,” Mother said. “Then I pressed my blouses with my travel iron. They were
     creased from my Samsonite.”
    “I snooped,” Fantasy said.
    “What’d you find?” I asked.
    “I just poked my nose in the doors,” she said. “I didn’t dig through anyone’s luggage.”
    “Well, I should hope not,” Mother said. “That’s rude.”
    “Which way is my room?” I asked.
    Fantasy pointed. “It’s gorgeous. And I would’ve snooped through your luggage but you
     have too much.”
    “Davis.” Mother said. “It took those men an hour to bring in your luggage. Ten minutes
     for everyone else’s and an hour for yours.”
    “It’s for the photography, Mother.”
    “Well, it’s ridiculous.”
    “Fantasy, when you were snooping, did you find anything to drink?” I asked.
    “Fantastic idea.” Fantasy stood and crossed the room to a fully stocked sidebar. “What’s
     your poison, ladies?”
    “Surprise us,” I said.
    “This will surprise you.” Fantasy pushed a button somewhere near the sidebar and with
     a swoosh, the wraparound glass wall slid into the ceiling. Now we really were inside
     and outside.
    Probability Suite 704 was magnificent.
    We stepped all the way out with our drinks and settled around an iron bistro table
     in a chocolate finish, sinking into thick cushioned chairs under a canvas umbrella.
     In the distance, I could see the Bellissimo—my husband, my home, my work—and it looked
     so far away.
    “This is delicious.” Mother knocked back half of hers in one long pull. “What is it?”
    “It’s a cranberry sparkler,” Fantasy said. “Cranberry juice and champagne. Davis,
     yours is sparkling with ginger ale.”
    “Cranberry juice and champagne,” Mother said. “This would be nice at Christmastime.”
    I picked up the pitcher and topped off Mother’s sparkler.
    “Nice weather.”
    “Very nice.”
    “Perfect.”
    “Not too hot.”
    “No.”
    “Just right.”
    “Not too cool.”
    “No.”
    “A beautiful afternoon.”
    Fantasy crossed and uncrossed her long legs three times, Mother nervously twisted
     the gold anchor buttons on her jacket, and I petted Anderson in long smooth strokes,
     waiting for the ice to crack. Before it could, the table vibrated. Even Anderson felt
     it; her ears stood up. It was V2, letting us know the front door had opened. V2 said
     Jessica DeLuna and Andrew Burnsworth had entered Suite 704.
    I wasn’t in the mood for any more Jess.
    “Who is Andrew Burnsworth?” Fantasy stared at her V2.
    “He’s our butler,” I said.
    “Which means?”
    “I’m not sure.