lawn and keeping her car running, so what? He’d never remembered their anniversary (she’d always been the one to make the plans) but he’d never forgotten her birthday. The gifts weren’t wildly romantic—a Crock-Pot, then, when she hadn’t been overly thrilled with his practical present, cash. Later on, when they got popular, it was gift cards. But they always came with a birthday card signed, Love, Bill. It would have been nice if he’d brought her flowers or chocolates once in a while, but then she’d never asked. So whose fault was it, then, that she never got any?
Really, most men weren’t romantic. Not like in books and movies. Anyway, there was more to life than romance. Like someone making you an omelet, getting to choose from a variety of delicious pastries, cruising on a beautiful ship and watching the world go by. And getting to see a windmill close-up.
“I’m looking forward to seeing the windmills,” she said. “I always thought it would be fun to go in one. I never thought I’d get to, though.”
“Yeah, but who’s going to blow on the paddles and make them turn?” joked Charlie, who’d stopped by the table to visit.
Catherine looked out the window. “It looks like there’s a bit of a breeze now.”
“It’ll be a cold one,” Charlie predicted. “Better stick close to me,” he said to Denise. “Body warmth and all that,” he added, waggling his eyebrows at her, and she gave him a flirty grin in return.
* * *
Good, thought Athena, watching Denise and Charlie. One down, one to go. Technically speaking, two to go, if you counted Sophie. At this point, though, Athena wasn’t. Daddy wasn’t showing any interest in her.
Catherine, though...Athena had seen the way he looked at her—as if they were on a Valentine’s Day dinner date. And Catherine was eating it up, all shy smiles and downward glances.
And all that talk of shopping! If he started spending money it would be like hanging a sign around his neck that said Sugar Daddy. She hoped she could convince him to keep his wallet out of sight.
Breakfast over, everyone dispersed to their rooms to brush teeth and fetch jackets. “I sure do like Catherine and Denise,” Daddy said as they made their way to their staterooms. “Don’t you?”
Okay, this had to be handled with finesse. She couldn’t diss the women or he’d get defensive, demanding to know what she thought was wrong with them? Not that he cared what she thought of Denise. Denise was the smoke screen.
“They seem nice,” she said cautiously.
“Catherine reminds me a little of your mother.”
Catherine wasn’t anything like Athena’s mother. Athena’s mother had been slender and well-dressed. Vivacious. Classy. Catherine was...unremarkable.
“How does she remind you of Mom?” Athena asked.
“It’s her smile. You can tell she’s kindhearted.”
“Just from her smile?”
“Doesn’t she strike you as kindhearted?” Daddy asked.
“I don’t know her well enough.” And neither do you.
People did that all the time, read into other people the kind of character they wanted to see. Athena had done it when she got married.
So had her father on his second time around.
“Daddy, promise me you won’t rush into anything,” she pleaded.
He frowned at her. “Athena.”
It was the beginning of a scold, she could tell. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I don’t want to see me get hurt, either.” He put an arm around her and hugged her. “Don’t worry, honey. I learned my lesson.”
Athena wasn’t so sure. If you asked her, her father needed a tutor.
* * *
Sophie had overslept and Sierra had been moping around the room, moving slowly. As a result they got to the dining room at the tail end of breakfast and there was no sign of their new friends. Crudballs.
“We’ll see them when the tour starts,” Sierra said with a shrug, and headed for the buffet.
Sophie frowned. She was willing to bet Catherine and Denise had gotten to the dining room in plenty of time to see Dr. Rudy and his daughter. They’d probably bonded over pastries. She found a plate and helped herself to a Danish. No guilt. It was only one and this was a cruise, after all.
Surprisingly, her sister, who normally avoided carbs, took one, too. Then she grabbed a doughnut, as well.
“Pastry?” Sophie asked, surprised.
“Hey, it’s a cruise, and I’m eating for two—me and Mark.” Sierra frowned and took a big bite out of her Danish.
“I’m sure you’ll hear from him today,” Sophie said as they made their way toward a table. “He probably hasn’t figured