Jaine Austen 8 - Killer Cruise Read Online Free PDF

over to the Sinatra Lounge, a dimly lit mahogany-and-leather affair, where Cookie, decked out in a spangly floor-length evening gown, was singing with a three-piece combo. Meanwhile, out on the dance floor, a few gray-haired couples were showing off their Arthur Murray dance moves.
    The six of us grabbed seats near the action and gave our drink orders to a red-vested waiter. Emily, under the watchful eye of Ms. Nesbitt, ordered a Shirley Temple, as did the battle-axe herself. The rest of us opted for a wee drop of alcohol.
    “I love listening to the old standards,” Emily said when the waiter left, her feet tapping in time to the music. “They just don’t write songs like they used to. Remember the time we met Johnny Mathis on our Caribbean cruise? Such a nice man! I still have his autograph on a cocktail napkin. I’ll never forget what he wrote. To Emily. Best wishes, Johnny Mathis . Isn’t that just the sweetest thing?”
    “A real Pulitzer Prize winner,” Kyle muttered under his breath.
    “And Jaine, you’ll never guess who we met on our cruise through the Panama Canal.”
    But I didn’t get to hear who they met, because just then Cookie’s boyfriend, Graham, glided up to our table.
    “May I have the honor of this dance?” he asked Emily, in his velvety British accent.
    No wonder the cruise line hired him. He cut quite the dashing figure in his blue blazer and perfectly creased slacks.
    Emily looked up and flushed with pleasure.
    But before she could reply, Nesbitt butted in.
    “I don’t think so, dear,” she said, with a stern shake of her head. “Best let your dinner settle first.”
    “Oh, go ahead Aunt Emily,” Robbie grinned. “Have some fun.”
    Emily hesitated a beat, looking first at Nesbitt and then at the handsome Gentleman Escort. Then Graham shot her one of his dazzler smiles, and the deal was sealed.
    “I believe I would like to dance,” she said, taking Graham’s hand and beaming as he led her onto the dance floor.
    “Honestly, Robbie,” Nesbitt huffed, bristling with annoyance. “Your aunt shouldn’t be dancing so soon after dinner. It’s bad for her digestion. You know what a weak stomach she has.”
    “Her stomach’s fine, Leona. You’re turning her into an old lady before her time.”
    “I think it’s very sweet,” Maggie piped up as Graham led Emily in a courtly fox-trot.
    Kyle groaned in exasperation.
    “Don’t be ridiculous, Maggie. It’s not sweet. It’s obscene. The man is young enough to be her son.”
    “It’s just a dance, Kyle,” Robbie said. “Lighten up. Oh, wait, I forgot. You’re constitutionally incapable of that.”
    Then he turned to me and, gesturing to the dance floor, asked, “Shall we?”
    Once more, I warned myself not to get involved, and once more I caved like the marshmallow I am.
    Out on the dance floor, Cookie was belting out “Just in Time,” smiling indulgently as Graham twirled Emily around. She winked when she saw me with Robbie.
    My temperature scooched up a few notches as he took me in his arms. Up close he was even cuter than he’d been across the dinner table. And he smelled like baby powder. I don’t know about you, but I’m a sucker for a guy who smells like baby powder.
    “I’m a big fan of your work,” he said, his bad-boy grin back in action.
    “What do you mean?”
    “ In a Rush to Flush? Call Toiletmasters! I’ve seen it on bus stops all over town. I’m assuming you wrote that.”
    “Guilty as charged.”
    “No, really. It’s very catchy.”
    “If you’ve seen my ad, you must live in Los Angeles.”
    “In Santa Monica,” he nodded. “The others live out in Pasadena. I’m the rebel of the clan.”
    “I’ll bet you are.”
    “I never joined the family brokerage firm like Kyle. Instead, I moved out to the beach and got a job as a lifeguard. Now I make surfboards for a living.”
    Not exactly a captain of industry, but who cared? I’d long since given up trying to resist him. We finished that dance