“Peyton,” Vic answered.
The next person in the circle, a thirtyish Hispanic male, stepped back and waved toward the person after him. “Oh, I’m not crew.”
Vic stepped forward, all stiff professionalism. “Hi, you all know me. Victoria–and this is my husband Brett Grant. And this person trying to avoid introductions is Mick. He’s actually a reporter, who has total access throughout the ship. Mick is a freelance writer, whose articles about this cruise will probably appear in travel magazines, adult publications, and perhaps even some Sunday papers. He’ll be reporting accurately”–she cast him her most winning smile– “though we hope favorably, on every aspect of the cruise. And he wanted me to make it clear that he’s abstaining for the duration of the cruise. Something about losing his objectivity.” Her brows rose, as if to say she didn’t buy it for minute.
Vic’s crowd laughed, and several women eyed Mick, clearly opposed to his celibacy.
“In light of all the anonymity we’ve enforced, by making everyone hand over all cellphones and communication devices, it might seem odd to have invited a reporter. However, I trust Mick implicitly, and you can be assured none of his writing will be released until approved by my legal department, after the cruise ends. So please, if you see Mick around–and he’ll be posing as just another passenger–go about your business just like you would if you didn’t know his identity. I’ve got to duck out now, but I hope you all enjoy the launch! Bon voyage!”
Amidst resounding applause, he and Vic left the pool area and headed toward the Aloha Deck.
“Victoria!” Mick the reporter rushed up behind them. “I wonder if I might get a quick precruise interview? And I’d like to shoot some photos of your suite. I got a photo record of the rest of the ship before the temp crew arrived, but as you know, your quarters were off limits.”
“Photos of our suite?” Brett didn’t like that idea one bit. “Isn’t that a tad invasive?”
Vic shook her head. “You know if we don’t let him, somebody down the road is going to find a way to get in and take pictures. I doubt anything in there will be of much interest to travelers who can’t access it. How about some shots of the outside deck? The infinity pool and hot tub?”
Mick shrugged. “Whatever. It’s your deal. Can we do the interview there, though? I see the actual crew coming, and they’re supposed to start intensive training on these temps in a few minutes.”
Dear Vic put on her happy face. “Sure. Let’s go. I could use a drink, anyway.”
Inside their suite, thick carpeting and upholstery muted any sounds of the outdoor world. Brett mixed drinks and handed them around, while Mick proceeded to ogle his wife and plead with her to let him write her biography.
“I really don’t think I’m biography material,” Vic protested. “At this point, I try to keep a low profile.” Her gaze met Brett’s, begging for rescue.
“The ship, and shipboard activities,” Brett said firmly. “Our personal life will remain just that–personal. As stated in your contract, you’ll include nothing private in your assessments.”
Mick relaxed back in his seat and took a deep drink. “I’m going to be honest. I definitely want to write the articles for the cruise. But I’d like to write the bio as a separate project. You fascinate me.” His eyes glittered, and he clutched his drink. “Both of you fascinate me. How you maintain your relationship with all the sex around you–how you keep yourselves separate. If you do, that is. I’d love to shadow you and learn all the intricacies.”
The reporter crossed his legs. Bloody hell, did he have a hard-on? This fucking guy wanted Vic!
Silence in the room as Vic swallowed, and raised her eyes to Brett again. Did she want Mick? He was certainly fit enough, and as other men went, attractive.
Perhaps he’d be the person they were looking for.
“Why don’t we, er…get back to you on that count, Mick?” Brett stood, indicating Mick should do the same. “Today is a big day, and we’ve got plenty on our agenda. Not the least of which is going out to greet our celebrity guests in about ten minutes.”
Chapter 4
“Well. Now that the beautiful people have all been coddled…” Victoria heaved a sigh. “Except Carmyn and Mark. And they won’t be here until it’s almost time to shove off.”
“Shall we go watch the normal shmucks arrive, then?” Britt asked.
“Yes, let’s. But from the Alto deck, over by the bridge. I’d rather not talk to anybody else for a few minutes.” They’d have a great view of passengers crossing the gangway below.