As we entered inside, passing over the threshold, the captain almost immediately introduced us to the Senior Concierge Officer who was supposed to take us to our rooms. The captain apologized for leaving us, but confessed that he had a whole pile of checklists to go over before the ship was ready to leave port. We thanked him, watched him stride away with a purposeful step, then turned to face the new person.
Harrison, which could have been his first or his last name, but it was the one printed on his uniform’s name tag, wore the same white uniform as the captain, except his came in short sleeves. Harrison also had the fancy gold epaulettes on his shoulders, which might have made him look dashing, but although he was the same age as the captain, he wouldn’t have been considered a gray fox by any standard. For one thing he wasn’t wearing that super elegant hat with the two tone and gold trim, so we were looking at hair that was sparse and straggly. (No, I’m not against bald men. Some look amazingly sexy.)
But this man, not only had been shorted on looks, but he was squat, or rather stubby, I guess. I know that to do his job he didn’t have to be handsome and hunky. Only, the captain was a ten, and this man seemed more a four. (Sorry, I know that’s rude.)
Harrison was also stiff, formal, and appeared to have the personality of a grapefruit, unlike the smiling captain who could have charmed a flea into leaving its cushy dog buddy. Wasn’t an Senior Concierge Officer, whatever that meant, supposed to be an expert at PR?
Daniel stepped near and whispered into my ear, “Be gentle in your thoughts. The man is intimidated by Bob and Terry. Some react badly to their nature.”
Timothy eyed Daniel, but didn’t seem offended by the man’s coming so close. My husband also didn’t react like he did sometimes when the werewolves teased me (which Timothy called flirting.)
But back to Harrison: Timothy hadn’t seem bothered by Harrison’s rigidity, but my darling husband suddenly took on the princely command persona that sometimes played havoc with his likeability. With an assertive voice, Timothy explained that we had just gotten married, so my passport was still in my maiden name, which was all good and proper, but then . . .
“You will let it be known that my wife is to be addressed as Mrs. Caldwell aboard the ship,” Timothy commanded sternly.
Harrison stopped walking to congratulate us and said he’d make a note of it, then speed-walked us into a grand hall with multiple elevators, at least eight, I think. Since our luggage had been taken care of and was supposed to be meeting us in our cabin, things were smooth-sailing, if you’ll pardon the pun.
Once the elevator took us to the top floor, we stepped out to a hall that seemed even fancier than the one downstairs. I’m not a fan of gold, but the person who had decorated everything sure was. There were gold trimmings, gold wallpaper, gold framed posters of different famous sites around the world, and even an official notice about how to find whatever we were looking for on the ship, bordered in . . . gold.