Jaine Austen 8 - Killer Cruise by Laura Levine Read Free Book Online Page B

the empty restaurant.
    But on the plus side, you’ll be happy to know that Amanda got a lot of work done on her argyle sweater.
    My only shining lights were the married couple, who attacked their assignments with gusto.
    At last, sixty painful minutes had come to an end. Not a nanosecond too soon.
    “That’s all the time we have for today,” I said, hoping they couldn’t hear the relief in my voice.
    Kenny’s hand shot up from the back.
    “If there’s homework, I’m not coming back tomorrow.”
    “There’s no homework, Kenny. Just bring in what you wrote today, and we’ll take turns reading aloud.
    “See you all tomorrow!” I said, smiling my most appealing smile. As motley a crew as they were, I couldn’t afford to lose a single one of them. “Any questions before we go?”
    My sweet, white-haired lady raised her hand.
    “Just one, Professor Heinmann,” she said. “When are you going to tell us about your Arctic explorations?”

Chapter 5

    T alk about your demoralizing experiences.
    I wanted nothing more than to trot over to the Tiki Lounge and bolster my sagging ego with a frosty margarita, but it was only 11 A.M. and I simply could not justify glugging down tequila at that hour of the morning.
    Besides, I needed to keep my brain cells perky for their upcoming bout with Samoa’s masterpiece.
    So I trudged back to my cabin, where I found Prozac clawing on a cashmere sweater she’d dragged from my closet. Several pieces of my underwear were also scattered gaily on the cabin floor.
    “I’m glad you’ve been having fun,” I snapped, picking up the mess. “I’ve been through utter hell.”
    She scampered to my side and sniffed my ankles, then looked up at me with big green eyes that could mean only one thing:
    So where are my snacks?
    “Oh, for crying out loud, Pro, you ate enough ham this morning to feed an NFL quarterback. I’ll bring you something later.”
    After scribbling a note to Samoa, asking him to pretty please bring me another pillow, I grabbed his manuscript and headed up to the pool deck. I found a spot in a secluded nook far from the frolicking crowds at the pool and settled down to do battle with Do Not Distub .
    The less said about Samoa’s opus the better. Let’s just put it this way: I’d read better plots in my DVD manual. I spent the next few hours gritting my teeth in frustration, trying to decipher his minuscule scrawl.
    All the while I could hear the happy shrieks of vacationers splashing in the pool.
    For a mad instant, I considered tossing the whole ghastly mess overboard. But sanity prevailed and I slogged on, breaking only for a late lunch at the buffet (a heavenly roast beef panini, with just the weensiest chocolate chip cookie or three for dessert).
    When at last my eyeballs were begging for mercy, I packed it in.
    I was heading past the pool en route to my cabin when I heard someone call my name.
    I turned and saw Emily Pritchard surrounded by her entourage: Kyle and his wife, Maggie; the formidable Ms. Nesbitt; and, of course, Adorable Robbie, who was looking particularly adorable in cutoffs and a sleeveless T-shirt.
    With a jaunty wave, Emily beckoned me to join them.
    As I made my way across the deck, I became aware of someone else in the Pritchard party. Cookie’s boyfriend, Graham, dashing as ever in his nautical blazer, was standing at Emily’s side. I hadn’t seen him at first, so engrossed had I been in Robbie’s cutoffs. But there he was, his hand resting most chummily on Emily’s elbow.
    How odd. I didn’t think the hired dancers were allowed to fraternize with the passengers off the dance floor.
    “Jaine, how lovely to see you.” Emily beamed as I approached.
    “Is that a manuscript you’re carrying?” Nesbitt asked, catching sight of Samoa’s masterwork in my arms.
    I nodded wearily. I preferred to think of it as recyclable waste, but I suppose technically it was a manuscript.
    “How marvelous!” Emily gushed. “We get to see your new book