Below Deck
While Ben and Zoe traded horror stories about the blondes, who had already managed to piss off every member of the crew in the short time they’d been on board, I kept my head down and my mouth shut as I scrubbed the inside of the Jacuzzi so hard my muscles started screaming in protest. Since I’d been busy helping the captain lift the anchor and performing all of my duties required for us to leave the dock, I’d managed to avoid the twins of terror and all their complaining. Listening to all of the shit Ben and Zoe dealt with or overheard happen was enough to piss me off, but not the main reason I almost scrubbed the color off the walls of the Jacuzzi as I took my anger out on the huge tub.
My irritation at the moment lies all at the feet of one Mackenzie Armstrong. No, she didn’t snap orders at any of the stews, and no, she didn’t complain about one damn thing. She did whatever she could to not ask anyone for anything and, when she had to, she almost looked embarrassed that she had to ask someone to do something for her. And she never forgot her manners, always saying please and thank you, and following each one up with a wide, genuine smile. A gorgeous smile that made her ocean blue eyes sparkle on a face with smooth, sun-kissed skin. A head full of thick, shiny hair the same color as the mahogany wood accents in the guest quarters, which fell down around her shoulders in long waves, attached to a slim body with curves in all the right places accented by a short and tight tattered jean skirt, and a generous helping of cleavage that peeked out of the edge of her low-cut tank top that I could immediately tell was not attached to fake tits of any kind. They were perfect and they were real and every time she leaned over the table on the main deck during lunch, I couldn’t stop staring at them when I was supposed to be wiping off the wet footprints on the deck that Arianna tracked all the way back there after her quick dip in the Jacuzzi.
The same Jacuzzi we had to fucking drain and clean when she saw a hair that was probably a strand from the fake-ass extensions on her own damn head.
Not helping matters at the moment is the fact that I can’t stop thinking about the way I caught Mackenzie staring at me when she was supposed to be listening to the rules on the ship and safety instructions. It doesn’t matter what kind of guy you are or what sort of moral code you hold yourself to, when a woman as hot as Mackenzie Armstrong is staring at you like she’s trying to picture you naked, it’s impossible to put it out of your mind.
The way her eyes were glazed over, the way her tongue darted out and slowly licked her bottom lip, the way her chest pushed her tits up and out when she took a few rapid breaths…
“What’s the story with that Mackenzie chick?” Ben asks, my ears perking up at just the sound of her name, pissing me off all over again as I scrub the Jacuzzi with more gusto. “She’s the only brunette in a sea of blondes and she’s actually nice. Is she even related to those assholes?”
Since Ben wasn’t included in the dossier meeting yesterday, and I only gave him and Eddie the basics on the guests, he doesn’t know Mackenzie isn’t related to the two blonde she-devils. I’m assuming since her father is also blond, she must have gotten her dark hair from her mother, wherever she is.
Since Ashley was more forthcoming with her crew on the Armstrong family details, Zoe takes it upon herself to explain the family dynamic to Ben.
“I overheard Mackenzie and her friend, Brooke, talking and I guess Mackenzie’s mom died when she was little. Her dad never dated anyone until Miss Resting Bitch face came along and brought RBF Junior with her,” Zoe tells him.
My frantic scrubbing comes to a stop when she says this, making me realize Mackenzie and I have something in common. We both lost parents at a young age. Too bad that’s where the similarities end and I resume my washing with an irritated grunt. It doesn’t matter that we’ve both experienced loss, her with her mother and me with both of my parents, she’s still so far out of my league it’s not even funny. And it’s more than a little pathetic that I’m thinking about this considering she’s a guest and she’s off limits, no matter how gorgeous or seemingly unlike the rest of her family she is.
“She’s being nice now, but just give it a day or two. She’ll be looking down her nose at you and putting you in your place, I guarantee it. They’re all the same, even if they want to pretend like they aren’t. Rich, entitled assholes who think they’re better than you,” I mutter, leaning up out of the Jacuzzi and rolling the kinks out of my shoulders.
“I don’t know; she seems really different. And her friend, Brooke, is nice too,” Zoe muses, putting the hose into the tub and turning on the water to begin filling it again. “The dad isn’t so bad when you get him away from the wife and the stepdaughter. I kind of feel bad for him. He follows them around like a little puppy and agrees with whatever they say, but when they aren’t around, he’s sweet and charming.”
“Awwwww, does Zoe have a crush on the old rich dude?” Ben jokes.
She throws her towel at his face and shakes her head at him.
“Sorry, old dudes aren’t my type, no matter how much money they have. Also, dudes, period, aren’t my type. Remember Benny-boy?”
Zoe is a lesbian and it’s probably one of the main reasons we get along so well. She doesn’t have to worry about me doing something stupid like trying to get in her pants, and I don’t have to worry about having a drunken hookup with her and her turning into a psycho.
“Fine. I’ll take one for the team and snag me a rich bitch if you two are going to pass,” Ben says, leaning against the deck railing with a smile.