shaggy bob, the other with longer blond hair.
“Are these seats taken?” asked the brunette, pointing to two empty seats.
“No, by all means, join us,” Catherine said as Rudy stood to greet them.
“Thank you,” said the brunette, speaking for both of them. “It’s getting crowded in here.” The blonde settled in the seat opposite Rudy and she took the other. “I’m Sierra Johnson and this is my sister, Sophie Miles.”
“Rudy Nichols, my daughter, Athena,” said Rudy.
Athena gave the newcomers a steely look. Catherine remembered that Athena was the goddess of war. This woman could probably live up to her name.
“And Catherine,” he continued, “and... Denise, right?”
Denise nodded, smiled like they were already best friends, then took a sip of her champagne.
“Nice to meet you all,” said Sophie. “I’m looking forward to this cruise. I hope no one gets sick, though,” she added, which struck Catherine as odd. Of all the topics to bring up when first meeting fellow travelers.
“It looks like they have plenty of hand sanitizers on board,” Rudy said easily.
“That’s good,” Sophie said. “I brought my own, but it’s good to have extras on hand.”
“Where are you girls from?” Catherine asked. A much better topic than germs, which made her think of illness, which made her think of her own precarious health.
“Washington state,” Sierra told her.
“Us, too,” Catherine said.
“We’re from California,” Rudy volunteered. “I hope you won’t hold that against us.”
“We won’t. As long as you don’t move to Washington,” Denise said with a teasing smile.
He nodded, getting the joke.
There had been a time when Washingtonians resented the influx of Californians into their state, raising the price of houses and changing the political landscape. Californicating, they’d called it. But those days were gone. Everybody was moving to Washington now, and not just from California.
“Tell me, Sierra, what do you girls do when you’re not traveling?” Denise asked.
“I’m afraid my job isn’t very exciting,” Sierra said. “I work in admissions at a hospital in Seattle. My sister’s the one with the cool job.”
“Oh? What do you do?” Denise asked her.
“I’m a professional shopper,” Sophie said.
“Aren’t we all?” said Athena. It sounded like a sneer.
“No, really, I do it for a living,” Sophie said. “I purchase gifts and giveaways for event planners and corporate executives, shop for companies needing help with employee gifts. That sort of thing.”
“Now, there’s a creative way to make a living,” Rudy said. “How did you settle on that?”
“It happened gradually. I helped a couple of friends who were getting married find bridesmaid gifts. Someone else was giving a baby shower and wanted ideas for party favors. More people started coming to me and then one of my mom’s friends, who’s a writer, wanted to do some giveaways. She paid me and pretty soon I was in business.”
“Never knew there was such a thing,” said Denise. “It sounds fun.”
“It is. I love my work. What about you?” Sophie asked her.
“Me? I was just a boring Realtor.”
Who’d been the top seller in her office. “There’s nothing boring about you,” Catherine said to her.
“How about you, Catherine?” Rudy asked.
She was the boring one of the group. A stay-at-home mom for years—cookie baker, Camp Fire Girl volunteer, PTA secretary. She’d never had her own business or made a killing in real estate. She’d always thought it would be fun to write a book but she never had. Never learned to ski, never took up painting. Never even entered a recipe contest, although all her friends had urged her to. She knitted, but who would care about that?
“I’m afraid I didn’t do much at all,” she said, feeling suddenly inadequate. “I was an elementary school secretary. I do like children,” she added.
“Do you have children?” Rudy asked her.
“Two. A son and a daughter.” Who are both too busy to be with me. She forced the corners of her lips to stay up. Hold that pose. “You obviously have a lovely daughter,” she said to him. Or she would be if she smiled.
“I do,” Rudy said. “I’m a lucky man.”
“Are you retired?” Catherine asked.
“Getting ready to in another year,” said Rudy. “I’m a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Sophie repeated, and looked at him as if he’d just said, I’m a god.
“What kind of doctor?” her sister asked.
“Just a lowly GP.”
“A general practitioner. They treat everything,” Sophie said. “You’re so lucky to have a father who’s a doctor,” she told Athena.
“I’m lucky to have a father who’s such a good man,” Athena corrected her.
Sophie didn’t appear to be listening. She was too busy smiling at