part of her job, but it didn’t stop me from liking her.
At the end, I led an enthusiastic round of applause, then turned back to Malcolm. We toasted with our white wines.
“Did I miss much at the orientation?”
“Yes and no. It was a chance to introduce yourself, which would have been helpful. You said you had an emergency?”
“My phobic, OCD partner decided to join us at the last minute.”
“He’s here?” Malcolm instantly seemed to understand. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“No, it’s not,” I said emphatically.
“Good.” He sipped at his wine, using the moment to glance around the lounge. “So, what do you think?”
“I thought this cruise was going to be all business,” I said, letting my disappointment show.
“I thought so, too. Apparently the organizers couldn’t fill the ship. Natalie, I’m sorry. The last time I did this, it was packed.”
“It’s still packed. Just not with the right people.”
“It’s going to be great.” He slipped his hand on my arm to reassure me. “I met some contacts already. One’s a top-notch defense lawyer. He’s dying to meet you.”
“You’ve been talking about me?” What a simpering thing to say! I could have kicked myself.
“And I hope you talk about me.” Malcolm hadn’t seemed to notice my simper. “That’s how networking works. It’s better to build someone else up. You can return the favor for me.”
“Right,” I said. “Good strategy.”
“I’ll be sitting at the lawyer’s table tonight. I’ll save you a seat.”
“That would be great,” I said and watched as he waved hello to a man across the floor in a gray, expensive haircut and a Tommy Bahama shirt.
“So I can count on you?” he added. “You have to start making connections right away.”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
A pair of toddlers, dressed identically in polka-dot skirts with bows, started playing a noisy game of tag in the space between us, and when I glanced up again to find Malcolm, he was gone. Just as well. I sipped my wine and pretended to mingle.
I have had my share of standing alone at cocktail parties. There are certain tricks you can do to make yourself look less pathetic, such as appearing to search the crowd for someone or standing near a conversation and pretending you’re taking part.
Captain Sheffield, still looking freshly pressed in his whites, was in one of these groups, and I absentmindedly drifted his way. A woman near his age, stylish and expensively dressed, was hanging off him, looking attentive. I don’t know how I knew this was his wife, but I did. Perhaps it was the proprietary death grip she was exerting on his arm.
“Hello,” said the captain as I made eye contact. It took him a second before remembering me. “Did your friend get his problem straightened out?’
“I’m sure he’s dealing with it,” I said, then took the opportunity to make my formal introduction. “My name’s Natalie Teeger.” If I was going to make a success of this week, I had to get used to introducing myself.
The captain responded by taking my hand between both of his and cupping it warmly before letting it drift away. “Nice to officially meet you, Natalie.”
“And my name is Sylvia. I’m the captain’s wife.” The expensively dressed woman did not offer to shake. “Did Ms. Teeger have a problem, Dennis? You didn’t mention a problem.”
“It was just a cabin thing,” I said apologetically. “We shouldn’t have even bothered him.”
“I see,” said Sylvia. And within the next ten seconds, she guided the captain’s arm and his attention back to the rest of their little group, edging me out of their inner circle. Time for a second drink.
I had just joined the line at the makeshift bar when Mariah fell in behind me. “I see you’ve met Sylvia Sheffield,” she said in an even voice.
“Yes,” I said. I never know how to respond to lines like that, so I make a habit of remaining neutral.
“Is that why you need
At the end, I led an enthusiastic round of applause, then turned back to Malcolm. We toasted with our white wines.
“Did I miss much at the orientation?”
“Yes and no. It was a chance to introduce yourself, which would have been helpful. You said you had an emergency?”
“My phobic, OCD partner decided to join us at the last minute.”
“He’s here?” Malcolm instantly seemed to understand. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“No, it’s not,” I said emphatically.
“Good.” He sipped at his wine, using the moment to glance around the lounge. “So, what do you think?”
“I thought this cruise was going to be all business,” I said, letting my disappointment show.
“I thought so, too. Apparently the organizers couldn’t fill the ship. Natalie, I’m sorry. The last time I did this, it was packed.”
“It’s still packed. Just not with the right people.”
“It’s going to be great.” He slipped his hand on my arm to reassure me. “I met some contacts already. One’s a top-notch defense lawyer. He’s dying to meet you.”
“You’ve been talking about me?” What a simpering thing to say! I could have kicked myself.
“And I hope you talk about me.” Malcolm hadn’t seemed to notice my simper. “That’s how networking works. It’s better to build someone else up. You can return the favor for me.”
“Right,” I said. “Good strategy.”
“I’ll be sitting at the lawyer’s table tonight. I’ll save you a seat.”
“That would be great,” I said and watched as he waved hello to a man across the floor in a gray, expensive haircut and a Tommy Bahama shirt.
“So I can count on you?” he added. “You have to start making connections right away.”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
A pair of toddlers, dressed identically in polka-dot skirts with bows, started playing a noisy game of tag in the space between us, and when I glanced up again to find Malcolm, he was gone. Just as well. I sipped my wine and pretended to mingle.
I have had my share of standing alone at cocktail parties. There are certain tricks you can do to make yourself look less pathetic, such as appearing to search the crowd for someone or standing near a conversation and pretending you’re taking part.
Captain Sheffield, still looking freshly pressed in his whites, was in one of these groups, and I absentmindedly drifted his way. A woman near his age, stylish and expensively dressed, was hanging off him, looking attentive. I don’t know how I knew this was his wife, but I did. Perhaps it was the proprietary death grip she was exerting on his arm.
“Hello,” said the captain as I made eye contact. It took him a second before remembering me. “Did your friend get his problem straightened out?’
“I’m sure he’s dealing with it,” I said, then took the opportunity to make my formal introduction. “My name’s Natalie Teeger.” If I was going to make a success of this week, I had to get used to introducing myself.
The captain responded by taking my hand between both of his and cupping it warmly before letting it drift away. “Nice to officially meet you, Natalie.”
“And my name is Sylvia. I’m the captain’s wife.” The expensively dressed woman did not offer to shake. “Did Ms. Teeger have a problem, Dennis? You didn’t mention a problem.”
“It was just a cabin thing,” I said apologetically. “We shouldn’t have even bothered him.”
“I see,” said Sylvia. And within the next ten seconds, she guided the captain’s arm and his attention back to the rest of their little group, edging me out of their inner circle. Time for a second drink.
I had just joined the line at the makeshift bar when Mariah fell in behind me. “I see you’ve met Sylvia Sheffield,” she said in an even voice.
“Yes,” I said. I never know how to respond to lines like that, so I make a habit of remaining neutral.
“Is that why you need
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