A Change of Plans Read Free

hand once her feet were on the deck. “I canwalk with you guys,” I offered. “I need to find my cabinmate anyway.”
    Now that the ship had moved out of the harbor, the impact of its motion on my balance became more pronounced. Kate giggled at me stumbling as I climbed the stairs. Braedon took my elbow to steady me, clasping the handrail himself. I would be glad when I finally adjusted and got my sea legs. I said a silent prayer of gratitude that I at least didn’t suffer from motion sickness.
    “See you around,” I said to Braedon and his family when we reached the lido deck. Kate let me go with a little kiss on the cheek, and I went to join Elle. Naturally, she stood among a circle of people. I could almost see the words ‘date potential’ in her eyes as she glanced between Braedon and me. I ignored her and we headed to the dining room.
    Later, we returned to the lido deck for the sailing party. Elle clapped her hands in delight. This was her environment: people, food, and music. She pointed to the band in the middle of the deck. “I want to request a song.”
    “I’ll get us some seats,” I shouted over the din of people. She waved her approval.
    After I secured a table and some chairs, I sat guarding them. I planned to stay only a few minutes and then make my escape to listen to a chamber group performing somewhere else. Somewhere more quiet and less crowded.
    I smelled Jori’s cologne before I heard his voice behind me. “I didn’t see you at dinner.”
    So much for not telling Elle. I glanced up. “Hello again.” I did a quick scan of the band area—no sign of Elle.
    He sat beside me, pulling a sketchbook and pencil from under his arm. “Are you saving all these seats?”
    I craned my neck again in the direction of the band. “Yes, Elle’s just stepped away ....”
    “Your friend from earlier?”
    “Yes.” Elle was nowhere in sight. I surrendered to the inevitable. “If you aren’t a full-time artist, what do you do for a living?”
    He made a wry face. “Modeling. It pays well enough, but I don’t like it.” He observed the people around us as he toyed with his pencil. “I wish I’d thought to come on a cruise before.”
    I pointed at his sketchbook. “May I see?”
    After a slight hesitation, Jori handed it to me. I flipped open the cover and was immediately captivated. Some would consider his sketches unfinished. They weren’t quite complete pictures but rather parts of pictures—a child’s face, a young woman’s profile, an old man’s hand. Jori used relatively few strokes, yet he still managed to capture the essence of his subjects.
    “These are beautiful.” I looked up from the last page. “Have you sold any of your pieces yet?”
    “I haven’t tried.” He shrugged. “I guess I don’t believe anyone would want them.”
    I was perplexed by his insecurity. “I’m no authority on art, but I know what I like. Your pictures touch me.”
    “Thank you.” The tightness around his eyes relaxed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said about my work.”
    I suddenly understood. “Your family doesn’t get it, do they, your love of art?”
    The sound of the pencil as he tapped it on his knee turned to sharp smacks. “No. Especially my father. He thinks I’m wasting my time.”
    I hated it when parents tried to crush their children’s dreams. I had only been teaching for three years, but I had already seen too much of it. “You’re good, Jori.” I reached over and touched his agitated hand. “I hope you don’t give up on this.”
    “Give up on what?” Elle asked as she walked up behind Jori, followed by her growing entourage. Her eyes widened when he turned to look at her. “Who’s this?”
    He stood and took her hand. “You must be Elle.”
    Unlike me, Elle didn’t flush very often, but she turned pink as he did his little bow over her hand. For a fleeting moment, I considered playing the matchmaker with them, but I quickly dismissed the thought. That just