Page 11 of Fire and Ice Cruise

Silas tries to laugh it off, sliding an arm around her waist. “Please ignore my wife. She has an overactive imagination. A few accidents don’t make a cursed ship.”

“Exactly,” I say with forced brightness.

Cursed? Where have I heard that before? Oh, right—from me.

Silas offers an amicable smile my way. “Well, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to hit the dessert table before Gideon starts his speech.” Silas guides Holland away, and I catch the tail end of her whisper. “I’m telling you, something about this place feels off.”

I can’t help but frown because I happen to know something is off about this place.

I head toward the buffet just as the lights dim and moody instrumental music swells from hidden speakers throughout the lounge. A spotlight cuts through the darkness and lands on Gideon at the front of the room.

The door opens in the back, and Ransom and Wes slip inside, both of them lethally handsome in dark suits. Ransom’s tie is a deep burgundy, and Wes has ditched his captain’s whites for civilian clothes, which somehow makes him look even more devastating.

They sidle up next to me, and Wes murmurs, “You look stunning.”

Except his eyes aren’t on me.

They’re locked on Marina across the room.

Ransom and I share a look. Is Wes smitten?

“Were you able to beef up security?” I whisper to the man I happen to be smitten with.

Ransom’s jaw tightens. “Quinn wouldn’t even let me into the office. It was brutal. She said she was simply following protocol.”

I wrap my arms around him and pull him close. “I’m so sorry.”

He presses a kiss to my temple. “It’s not your fault.”

“Everything’s usually my fault eventually. Let’s not rule it out.”

“Trixie.”

“Just saying.”

Gideon taps a microphone, and the room falls silent except for the gentle background music.

“Good evening, everyone!” His voice booms through the speakers. “Welcome to the Second Act Society’s inaugural cruise celebration. I’m thrilled to see so many familiar faces and even more excited to welcome our new members.”

Applause ripples through the crowd.

“For those who don’t know me, my name is Gideon Vale, and I founded the Second Act Society three years ago after my own major life transition. I went from corporate burnout to living my dream, and I want to help all of you do the same.”

He pauses, his gaze sweeping the room.

“First acts are for learning your lines. Second acts are for going off script.”

More applause.

“Over the next ten days, we’ll be exploring Iceland’s gorgeous landscapes, but more importantly, we’ll be exploring what’s next for each of you. We have workshops, networking events, and yes,” he winks at the crowd, “I’ll be doling out a few delicious secrets, too. I’ll reveal all of the tips and tricks I’ve learned from helping hundreds of people reinvent themselves.”

The crowd eats it up like it’s the lava cake at the midnight buffet.

Speaking of which, I sure hope they’re serving lava cake on that dessert table.

Ransom gives my hand a quick squeeze as if he knows what I’m thinking. And face it, he so does.

“So raise a glass with me.” Gideon lifts his champagne flute and inspires others to do the same. “To second acts, second chances, and refusing to let age define what’s possible. Cheers!”