it. Several crew uniforms were hanging inside, with plenty of room left for all the clothes London had packed and any she might buy in European shops.
“You’d better get into these duds,” Elsie said, pointing to a uniform. “Passengers will be boarding in a half hour, and you’re supposed to be there to greet them.”
London went into the bathroom, washed up quickly, and changed into her own uniform—dark blue slacks with a blouse and vest. She fixed her makeup and combed her hair.
Elsie applauded when London emerged.
“Excellent!” she said. “You do that outfit proud!”
Before London could reply, there was a sharp knock at the door. Elsie opened it and a uniformed, dark-haired woman strode in.
Elsie sputtered, “London, this is Amy Blassingame, our concierge and—”
The woman interrupted, looking at her watch.
“I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Rose. But I’m afraid you’re already running late. Our passengers are ready to board right now. You’d better get up there and greet them—that is, if you hope to keep this job.”
Amy Blassingame held out a folder.
“You’ll need this,” she snapped. “Jot down everybody’s individual needs and demands next to their names, then leave the list in my box at the reception desk. I’ll take care of things from there.”
London took the folder and tried to utter a thank-you, but the woman whirled and left without another word.
For a moment, London just watched her go, stunned by the hostility she felt emanating from a complete stranger. A quick look at the folder revealed that it was a list of passenger names.
“Let’s go,” London said to Elsie. When they dashed into the hallway, Amy Blassingame was nowhere in sight.
“I thought you said I had a half hour,” London said as they as they got into the elevator.
“That’s what Amy said to tell you,” Elsie replied breathlessly. “Oh, London, I’d been meaning to warn you about Amy the River Troll. How did you get this job?”
“Jeremy Lapham called me personally. Just yesterday.”
“And what did he say?”
“That the position had opened unexpectedly.”
“That’s right,” Elsie said. “The woman they had signed up dropped out. I think she decided to elope with her Italian lover. Anyhow, Amy was expecting to get the job herself. She’s been fuming about it—and about you—all morning. Messing around with the boarding time is just her way …”
“But I didn’t—”
“I know, you didn’t mean to ruffle any feathers. But I’m afraid that Amy the River Troll has it in for you anyway. Just remember—you’re her boss, not the other way around. You might have trouble getting her to accept that, though.”
London’s heart sank a little. Wielding actual authority over resentful staff members was not something she’d learned how to do when she’d been a mere cruise ship hostess.
There sure are lots of new things to get used to, she realized.
Anyway, she was determined not to let a little river troll issue dampen her spirits.
When they arrived at the boarding area, London could see a line of passengers standing behind a chain on the far end of the covered gangway that led into the boat. She opened the glass doors of the reception room and waved at the deckhand who was in charge of that chain. At the sight of her signal, he lifted the barrier so the newcomers could board.
“Good luck,” Elsie whispered as she headed away.
London took a deep breath as the first passengers moved toward her.
Leading the group was a tiny, grim-looking, elderly woman. She was wearing unnecessary furs and enough jewelry to topple such a small person over. She was only carrying a large leather handbag, but an impressive pile of luggage followed her in the care of a deckhand.
Despite the woman’s dour expression, London smiled brightly and opened her mouth to welcome the very first guest to step into the Nachtmusik’s cheerful reception area.
Then London’s attention was captured by something strange about that handbag.
Long brown hair streamed down outside of it, as though the woman had rather carelessly stuffed a wig into it.
As London stared at that wig, she suddenly saw a pair of dark brown eyes pop open.
The wig was looking back at her.
CHAPTER SIX
The brown eyes blinked at London a couple of times. Then the bundle of hair lifted a little, revealing a shiny black nose. A set of bared teeth appeared below that, accompanied by a low growl.
Some kind of mechanical toy? London wondered.
Then the bundle of hair let out a sassy, yapping bark, confirming once and for all that the