up every word her clear voice sang out. Flapjack came through the door, listening also, until his eyes fell upon the man who still sat at the head table. Seeing the look in his eyes, then the look in the singer’s eyes, he turned back toward his kitchen.
"Sure has a lovely voice, don’t you think, Edward?" At the sound of Ethan’s voice, the head cook stopped, tuning into what was being said. "I’m going to get in touch with the right people when we get back. I know she could make a go with her own songs."
"You know it, sir." Edward spoke to his employer, continuing on with his duties.
Until Ethan walked up to her, she continued singing. "I think you ought to quit before you over do it." He had her guitar in his hand, taking her arm with the other. "I have this friend in Atlanta..." He began when she was standing in front of him.
"No, thank you, Ethan. I’m not interested." Her voice was cool, knowing what he was going to say to her next.
"You don’t even know what I was referring to," he said, putting the guitar back in its case. "Would you join me outside for a cool drink and fresh air?"
"I’d enjoy that very much. And you were going to tell me about someone who could help me get a career going, just as many others have tried. I truly am not interested in a singing career any more complex than what I have now. I’m comfortable with what I do. I have everything I need." The night air was cool, and she enjoyed the salty taste it had. "It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer. I’m glad to know you care so much."
"But you could enjoy life more fully with the kind of money your own songs could bring." He seated her on a deck chair, joining her in the next one, setting the guitar case on the floor next to him. With a small movement of his hand, he silently called for a deck waiter to bring the cart that held bottled drinks.
"I don’t want that. I’ve seen what enjoyment comes from it." Her voice was raised a slight bit, but she knew she wouldn’t have to argue long. She knew she would win this argument no matter what he tried to do to persuade her differently.
He was watching out off the starboard, sipping on the drink he had received. "Tell me what you know about that side of life, Jenà. I’d like to know, too. I’ve only seen how glamorous it is from afar."
"I’d rather not talk about it, please." She was looking up at the star studded sky, sipping the cool soda through a straw. So far the moon hadn’t risen.
"I don’t think you know anything about it," he stated flatly, looking at her, accusing her of hiding ignorance behind her silence. "I think you’re just afraid to try, afraid you might fail."
Her voice remained calm through pure force. "I don’t want to talk about it, Ethan. Just drop the subject, please." It wouldn’t take much more to make her get up and leave him sitting there.
"You would make it, Jenà. You’d make it big. I’ve got the confidence that you lack in yourself." He stood when she did, determined to find out what had her afraid to go forward with a career.
"You know nothing about it, Ethan. Being on tours most the time, away from family, a constant crowd with body guards to keep them from tearing you apart because they love you so much." She started to walk off, but stopped short, turning back to place the glass in his empty hand. "Please, Ethan, don’t push it." Her voice had calmed down some. Turning back again, she walked to the bow to cool off.
"You possess more determination than I knew." He had joined her a long while later, hoping he had given her enough time to settle down. "Is there some experience behind those words you spoke?"
"I still don’t want to talk about it, Ethan." Leaning on the rail, she watched the lights from the ship dance on top of each wave before it crashed into them.
"I detect some painful memories?" He stood beside her, resting his back and elbows on the railing, crossing his legs at the ankle. He was just guessing, because she was hiding
"Sure has a lovely voice, don’t you think, Edward?" At the sound of Ethan’s voice, the head cook stopped, tuning into what was being said. "I’m going to get in touch with the right people when we get back. I know she could make a go with her own songs."
"You know it, sir." Edward spoke to his employer, continuing on with his duties.
Until Ethan walked up to her, she continued singing. "I think you ought to quit before you over do it." He had her guitar in his hand, taking her arm with the other. "I have this friend in Atlanta..." He began when she was standing in front of him.
"No, thank you, Ethan. I’m not interested." Her voice was cool, knowing what he was going to say to her next.
"You don’t even know what I was referring to," he said, putting the guitar back in its case. "Would you join me outside for a cool drink and fresh air?"
"I’d enjoy that very much. And you were going to tell me about someone who could help me get a career going, just as many others have tried. I truly am not interested in a singing career any more complex than what I have now. I’m comfortable with what I do. I have everything I need." The night air was cool, and she enjoyed the salty taste it had. "It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer. I’m glad to know you care so much."
"But you could enjoy life more fully with the kind of money your own songs could bring." He seated her on a deck chair, joining her in the next one, setting the guitar case on the floor next to him. With a small movement of his hand, he silently called for a deck waiter to bring the cart that held bottled drinks.
"I don’t want that. I’ve seen what enjoyment comes from it." Her voice was raised a slight bit, but she knew she wouldn’t have to argue long. She knew she would win this argument no matter what he tried to do to persuade her differently.
He was watching out off the starboard, sipping on the drink he had received. "Tell me what you know about that side of life, Jenà. I’d like to know, too. I’ve only seen how glamorous it is from afar."
"I’d rather not talk about it, please." She was looking up at the star studded sky, sipping the cool soda through a straw. So far the moon hadn’t risen.
"I don’t think you know anything about it," he stated flatly, looking at her, accusing her of hiding ignorance behind her silence. "I think you’re just afraid to try, afraid you might fail."
Her voice remained calm through pure force. "I don’t want to talk about it, Ethan. Just drop the subject, please." It wouldn’t take much more to make her get up and leave him sitting there.
"You would make it, Jenà. You’d make it big. I’ve got the confidence that you lack in yourself." He stood when she did, determined to find out what had her afraid to go forward with a career.
"You know nothing about it, Ethan. Being on tours most the time, away from family, a constant crowd with body guards to keep them from tearing you apart because they love you so much." She started to walk off, but stopped short, turning back to place the glass in his empty hand. "Please, Ethan, don’t push it." Her voice had calmed down some. Turning back again, she walked to the bow to cool off.
"You possess more determination than I knew." He had joined her a long while later, hoping he had given her enough time to settle down. "Is there some experience behind those words you spoke?"
"I still don’t want to talk about it, Ethan." Leaning on the rail, she watched the lights from the ship dance on top of each wave before it crashed into them.
"I detect some painful memories?" He stood beside her, resting his back and elbows on the railing, crossing his legs at the ankle. He was just guessing, because she was hiding
Similar Books
