Combining Business and Pleasure 2

When they had their Espresso, Babette was sure that John was flirting with her, and she was also sure that Mr. Conradi wouldn’t appreciate that. So far, he hadn’t made real advances, but it was clear that he saw more in her than just his secretary. She looked over her shoulder, to see if perhaps, this shadowy Sato was around, having an eye on her. Then, she decided that Conradi had officially given her the evening off, and that she was not forbidden to talk to John.

Despite his attitude, John Atticus Beauregard wasn’t British, but he came from New Orleans – a real Cajun, who had even grown up on a former plantation and had spent a few years at Cambridge, which explained his accent and appearance. His family wasn’t incredibly wealthy, but rich enough to allow him to work in a job where he could follow his passion – John was a journalist, writing reports for a travel magazine.

»Among our readers, the maiden voyage of an ocean liner is still a thing, and thus, my editor paid for my ticket, though only on one of the lower decks!«

Babette hid her slight concern behind an interested smile. A journalist! She hadn’t forgotten how Davenport had reacted to the woman that had taken photo of him, and she was sure that Conradi wouldn’t be too glad if she talked to the press either. However, when John continued to talk about his latest trip, she could hear that he was harmless, for his magazine wasn’t interested in gossip.

»And here, I am sitting, talking about nothing but me! What are you doing for a living, Babette?«

»Oh, in a way, I am also combining business and pleasure! I am the private secretary of one of the ship’s co-owners!«

She noticed a shadow on John’s face, as if her words had implied that he couldn’t mess with such a wealthy and influential man. To soften the blow, she added:

»However, I am not allowed at his dinner table! So, I will have to eat in the main lobby, like everyone else!«

»Like me!«, John admitted. He showed his smile that was indeed a little British; his teeth were slightly irregular, not as much as to be appalling, but not as accurate as those of upper class Americans usually were. He checked his watch.

»If you don’t have an appointment yet, how about 7pm for dinner?«

Babette patted her laptop.

»Let me finish this, and I will see if I can make it!«

John took the hint and withdrew, and Babette decided that, since typing the protocol didn’t take much time, she would have enough time to think whether a date with John would be appropriate.

***

The deep sound of the signal horn indicated the departure of the »Mauretania II«, and most passengers were gathered on deck to watch the spectacle. Among them was Johanna, still feeling a bit strange by wearing her glasses in public, and also feeling a bit uneasy in her light dress that, although modest, didn’t do much to hide her charms. Suddenly, she heard someone clear her throat beside her, and a young brunette spoke to her:

»Excuse me – are you who you think I am?«

Oh my God – we haven’t even left the harbour!«, she thought, and she forced a smile on her face when answering:

»Well, my name is Müller, so, chances are high that you know someone with the same name!«

The brunette looked around, as if to check whether someone was listening, and she lowered her voice:

»Of course, Johanna Müller – better known as Joanne von Gröbern!«

Now, Johanna remembered the interview after the success of her first novel, where she had revealed her real name. She thought if she should still try to pretend that she wasn’t Joanne von Gröbern when the girl continued:

»I am Hannah Hoth – and I am a journalist!«

She shook Johanna’s hand, and she once again lowered her voice:

»I can see you are travelling incognito – that’s great!«

Marc Dettmer, the hero of her novels, would have raised an eyebrow, but in Johanna’s case, both came up when she looked startled. Hannah smiled.

»Well, as long as no one recognizes you, I could have an exclusive interview – not now, of course, but when the trip will be almost over! Please, my readers would love it – and also my editor!«

Johanna sighed. She was now aboard for some four hours, and already, one journalist had recognized her. If things went on like that, there would be quite a bunch before they had reached the Canary Islands!

»One interview?«

»Promise! Oh, and would you mind signing my copies of your books with your real name? Maybe, they will become even more precious once you have won more prices!«

Johanna hesitated.

»Who guarantees me that you are not just keeping the door open for your colleagues?«

»The fact that I will get a bonus if I can offer an exclusive interview!«

The offer sounded just honest enough to be believable, and so, Johanna agreed. Hannah withdrew, a pleased smile on her face. If she would not be able to find out too much about Conradi and Davenport, she would at least have this interview on her portfolio.

***

Among the few people who were not watching the departure was Melissa Bauer who slowly walked through the almost empty corridors. It was a usual precaution, as of course, this was an opportunity for burglars to enter the cabins. Whilst her superior was above, in the first class, he had left the second class to her. He had made it sound as if he was doing her a favour, for it was more likely that someone broke into one of the luxury cabins. However, Kugler only had a few dozen cabins to look after, whilst the second class had a few hundred.

»Officer!«

Melissa smiled at the man leaning in the open door. Karim was born in Mauretania, a fact the shipping company had seen as a good reason to let him establish his massage salon on this ship, but he had been raised in Hamburg since he had been two years old, only a few streets away from where Melissa had grown up. So, she had been surprised and pleased to hear the tall Arab speak in her local idiom, and they had loosely bonded over their common upbringing.

»Still enjoying your day off?«

Since today, the passengers would be too occupied with occupying their cabins and learning to know the ship, Karim would not open his salon before the next morning. He smiled and made an inviting gesture.

»If you want to lose some tension, today would be your chance!«

»In your dreams, Karim! I am on duty! Besides, I am not sure that your service is included for personnel, too!«

»Since you are protecting my property, too, I would love to offer my services for free, Melissa!«

Now, she chuckled. If there was a burglar, he would most likely not break into the massage salon and steal some of the oil.

»You are really trying everything to get me on your table!«

Karim just shrugged, and Melissa suddenly was intrigued. She cocked her head and smiled:

»Can you make me lose some tension in ten minutes?«

»Are we still talking about a massage?«

They both laughed, and she followed him inside. To her surprise, he avoided his table and instead put a clean towel on a narrow bench.

»Take off your shirt, and then sit astride«, Karim ordered matter-of-factly whilst rummaging through the bottles in his shelf. Melissa frowned.

»We are still talking about a massage, do we?«

»Of course, we do, Melissa – and if you don’t mind explaining to Kugler why you have oil all over your shoulders, you can also keep it on!«

With a sigh, Melissa unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a plain white bra, and took it off before she sat down on the bench. Karim sat behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Then, his fingers wandered down her shoulder blades.

»He!«, she protested when Karim unclasped her bra, but he just told her that he could not unfold the power of his magic hands if his fingers got entangled in the straps. So, she allowed him to pull her shoulder straps down, cupping her breasts to keep the cups from falling off.

Two minutes later, Melissa had to admit that Karim hadn’t exaggerated about his magic hands, and she realized that she had indeed been under some tension. She let out a fluttering breath when she oppressed a sigh of pleasure, and Karim chuckled:

»Just let it out, Melissa! The room is sound-proof for exactly that reason! You would wonder how some of the respectable Ladies sound when they lose tension!«

The thought was awkward and amusing at the same time. Melissa relaxed under Karim’s hands, and shortly before it ended, she allowed herself to sigh. Then, she thanked Karim and could not help allowing him a glimpse of one of her aureoles as she adjusted her bra.

»Always a pleasure to serve the authorities!«

Karim turned around when she opened her trousers to get her shirt back on, and the mirrored wall allowed him to see that her black panties matched her bra in style, but not in colour. From an earlier conversation, he knew that she had been a real Policewoman, and now, he could tell that her body seemed to keep what the uniform promised.

Of course, it would be an additional risk: if one of the passengers that travelled alone would disappear, it would take some time before it would be noticed. Melissa, however, would raise suspicion if she didn’t appear for her shift.

»Every risk has got its price – I will have to talk to the others!«, he thought after he had said Goodbye to Melissa, offering her a longer and more intense massage on his day off.

***

Martin Conradi also had the hands on the shoulders of a woman – his wife Leonora’s. He had taken the opportunity of her sitting in front of her makeup mirror, stepped behind her and surprised her with a golden necklace. Now, he gently massaged her shoulders under the flimsy silk of her evening gown, and Leonora almost ostentatiously stared at the mirror.

»I am not sure whether it matches my earrings!«

»It matches your eyes!«

Indeed, there were small emeralds in the necklace, and Leonora sighed.

»Shall I call myself lucky for you didn’t buy a sapphire – or is it just a sign that you haven’t noticed Babette’s eye colour yet – because you were distracted by her other features!«

The hands on her shoulders stiffened.

»Babette’s just my secretary – and I told you that in my position, I am never completely off duty!«

Leonora rose and turned around, facing Martin.

»You know that I am not blaming you for banging your secretaries – as long as you are doing it where I can pretend to ignore it! But now, I not only have to share you with your work, but also with this pair of tits!«

Martin gulped, thinking of the very boobs his wife had mentioned. She was telling the truth: in the past, he had been discreet when he had been unfaithful.

»Promise me one thing – that you will not attack my dignity! Wait with your usual predatory behaviour until we are back home!«

Not sure what to say, Martin just kissed her hand. Leonora draped a stola over her bare shoulders and reached him her hand. He noticed that she was still wearing the necklace, and, feeling slightly relieved, he led her towards the exclusive dining room reserved for the first class passengers.

He didn’t look too close at the corridor, and so, he missed the girl taking a few photos of him. Hannah nodded with a pleased smile. Sure, a picture of Conradi and his wife wasn’t something spectacular, but perhaps, they would be useful. She let her phone slide into her handbag and went to the dining room for the »peasants« – a luxurious salon with waiters in white jackets and the only downgrade being that one had to choose from a buffet and that the drinks cost extra. When waiting to be seated, she saw a familiar face.

»Jo-, I mean, Johanna!«

Johanna Müller smiled a bit forced as she approached her. So far, the young journalist had left her alone, and if there were some colleagues of her, they were either busy with someone else, or they hadn’t recognized her.

»So, you are travelling alone?«, Hannah asked, and Johanna lowered her head. Sure, Hannah knew about her divorce. She decided to take the offensive:

»You want to join me on my table?«, she asked, letting it sound as if she could imagine more appealing things, like a root canal treatment. Hannah played the pouting girl.

»He, what if I promise not to ask any questions and instead talk of myself? Perhaps, you will have a journalist in your next novel!«

Now, Johanna smiled sardonically.

»I could indeed need a murder victim for my next novel! Let’s get this over!«

***

Jeb Browning was indeed a bit rough on the edges, as Mr. Davenport put it, and if he wore a suit, like he did now, he still looked like a chucker-out, and one almost expected a gun to protrude from under his arm. He was leaning against a wall, and when Babette passed him without noticing him, he licked his lips.

»Why can’t the boss have a secretary like her, too?«

Babette wore a black silk dress that closed high on her neck, but left her back and shoulders free, revealing that she was wearing no bra. The front of her dress had an opening the shape of a drop, allowing a good view on her ample cleavage, and on one side of the skirt, a slit went up to the top of her thighs. A thin golden chain around her waist emphasized both her slim tummy and her well-rounded hips, and she moved in her high heels with a casual elegance that seemed to impress John who slightly bowed before offering her his arm.

»Great – now I am looking even more like a tramp in comparison!«

Babette’s hand that rested on his lower arm slightly patted him, and she smiled.

»Believe it or not, this is my first cruise, and I am terribly nervous about behaving appropriately! What if I drink from the wrong glass, or spell something wrong?«

»Then, you’d have at least one little flaw, and I would feel a little less nervous around you!«

Babette chortled, and for a moment, he felt her head touch his shoulder.

Jeb scoffed, and he wanted to leave when he noticed someone else he had seen before. He approached Sato and showed a slightly exaggerated bow.

»Konnichi wa!«

Sato answered with a more elegant bow, and with a fine smile, he replied:

»After 6pm, we say ›Konban wa‹!«

Jeb shrugged, and then, he grinned at Sato.

»Off the leash for the evening too, hm?«

He pointed at a sign that led to the nearby Irish pub, and now, Sato shrugged and followed his colleague. Actually, he never considered himself as »off the leash« as long as Mr. Conradi was around, but the man had told him that he intended to go to bed after dinner, and so, he could also spend some time with Jeb. Perhaps, he would blab something interesting about his boss.

A few minutes later, both men sat in one of the small cubicles, and each had a pint of Kilkenny in front of him. They toasted, and now, Jeb asked:

»So, this blonde bombshell – is she just Conradi’s secretary, or-«

He waited, his grin leaving no doubt about what he was implying. Sato just showed his trademark Japanese poker face, and so, Jeb tried another approach:

»Speaking of girls – do you remember the brunette that tried to take photos of your boss and mine? The brunette?«

Sato remained silent, but he leaned forward, his face showing more interest now.

»Well, I saw her when Mr. davenport was on his balcony – she was too far away to do anything about it, but I am sure she was taking photos again!«

Now, Sato showed a small grimace. He had kept on the journalist’s tracks, too, and just a few minutes ago, she had taken pictures of the Conradis leaving their suite. Jeb picked a few of the peanuts from the bowl between them and whilst chewing, he whispered:

»Perhaps, she needs a stricter warning!«

Both being professionals, they had chosen a place where they could talk undisturbed, and the barkeeper was also a few yards away. So, Sato answered:

»What exactly do you have in mind?«

Lowering his voice, Jeb told him about his plan, and Sato had to admit that the American wasn’t as silly as he had initially thought. When Jeb had finished, he said:

»You even took care that if someone notices me, I will get all the blame, whilst you will have a decent alibi!«

»If you manage to get inside, no one will notice you!«, Jeb replied, looking questioningly at the Japanese. Sato showed an enigmatic smile.

»Didn’t you know that all Ninjas can walk through walls?«

Jeb chuckled, obviously imagining him in a tight black pyjama. The reason for Sato’s confidence, however, wasn’t his Ninja skills – that were mostly fictional anyway. However, when Conradi had planned to combine his participation in the maiden voyage of the »Mauretania II« with a business meeting with Davenport, he had introduced Sato that, perhaps, unconventional methods would become necessary. Conradi hadn’t been more specific, but with his boss being one of the owners of the ship, it had been no major problem for him to organize a general key that currently rested in his wallet, beside his credit card.

»As we agreed, a warning – not a punishment!«

Jeb grinned wolfishly.

»If you don’t forget about my souvenir!«

***

Though it looked luxurious, the second class’s dining room wasn’t more formal than a good restaurant, and Babette could have done worse than just picking the wrong cutlery or pronouncing »Beaujolais« wrong – though they had decided for Bardolino instead. John was also pleased that Babette didn’t seem to care too much about her figure when enjoying the indeed delicious collection of food. He was only wondering whether Babette was just a little naïve or trying to seduce him when she, for example, plucked an olive from a toothpick with her full lips. He decided that he could live with both.

»So, your boss is a co-owner of this ship?«

Babette sipped from her coffee before she answered:

»Oh, this is just a small part of his business! Right now, he is trying to get his foot into the American beer market! So, one could say he has got a wide portfolio!«

»Too bad I am not an investigative journalist! If so, I could try to grill you, to get some spicy details about his – wide portfolio!«

Babette stretched her shoulders a little, so her dress tightened over her breasts.

»Luckily, you are working for a travel magazine! So, the only grilling will be on the sun deck, beside the pool! Perhaps, my duties will leave me some time to do so – tomorrow afternoon!«

She rose from her seat.

»Speaking of duties, I still have some paperwork to do! Good night, John – and thank you for a wonderful evening! Maybe, we can repeat this soon – and then, I insist on paying for the drinks!«

Babette bent forward, allowing him a closer look at her cleavage and to smell the fragrance of her perfume as she breathed a kiss on his cheek. When she left, John looked after her, and he would have betted that she swayed her hips a little more than necessary.

Now, he was sure that she was trying to seduce him, and a grin built on his face. If so, it worked, and John decided to remain sitting for a little longer, until he could dare to get up without showing the other guests how much it had worked.

***

Hannah considered her dinner with Johanna a partial success. The author had opened up a bit, and dropped some minor spoilers about her planned new book, and in addition, they had found out that they got on quite well together. Still, what she had would make up for a filler that would not earn her the bill for a dinner like the one she had just enjoyed.

Since Johanna had retired after the dessert, she decided to have a look after Conradi and Davenport. However, when she approached the first class, she saw a well-known figure hang around in front of the corridors leading to the suites. It was Davenport’s bodyguard, and when he saw her, he showed a lewd grin. Hannah oppressed the urge to show him her middle finger, and she decided to call it a day.

She entered her cabin, and she had just time to wander why something had been draped on her bed when she was suddenly grabbed from behind, and a hand clamped over her mouth and nose.

»Mhhmmmph!«

Before she could even think of struggling, something painfully pinched her neck, and Hannah collapsed in her attacker’s arms.

Sato listened for a few seconds if his attack had remained unnoticed before he carried the unconscious girl to her bed. The nerve pinch would only knock her out for a few minutes, so, he would have to work quickly.

He turned Hannah onto her belly and then, he used the prepared pantyhose he had already cut in halves to tie her spreadeagle to the bed. Then, he grabbed the two scarves and crammed one of them into her oral cavity. The other, he tied tightly between the girl’s lips. Using one of Hannah’s black T-Shirts, he blindfolded the girl before he grabbed her skirt and crumpled it around her waist, revealing her buttocks parted by her black thong. Then, he waited until the girl regained her consciousness.

»Mhhmm? Uuuhmmm! Hrrrrmm!«

Without a word, Sato grabbed the waistband of her panties, cut it with his pocketknife and pulled the garment from her. Hannah bucked and screamed into her gag, but Sato just raised his hand. 20 times, he let his gloved hand land on her buttocks, and when he withdrew, Hannah whimpered, and her butt had reddened from the spanking.

Sato, remembering his promise, took a photo of her exposed backside. Then, he went towards the door where he took off his mask before stepping onto the corridor. There was no one, and so, he closed the door. He could still hear Hannah’s muffled cries, but it didn’t matter once he had taken off his gloves and had brought a few yards between himself and her cabin door.

He reached the stairs towards the first class and saw Jeb who was just ordering another beer from one of the waitresses serving the small tables for the smokers. He was behaving a bit rude, but it would assure that the waitress would remember him, confirming his alibi.

Sato approached his table and asked for fire, and when Jeb gave him some, he placed the cell phone on the table. It belonged to Jeb, and he had only borrowed it to the Japanese for his »souvenir«. The other souvenir was draped around it, and Jeb felt for the tiny thong before he let it disappear in his pocket. Sato thanked him and, puffing his cigarette, he disappeared. Perhaps, the little journalist would take the warning seriously – if not, he and Jeb would have to become a little more persuasive.

***

Immediately after she had heard the door fall shut, Hannah had pulled on her bonds in blindfolded rage, screaming through the cloth in her mouth. This had caused her to cough, and so, as she had been forced to lie down and catch breath, she had found the calmness necessary to work on her ties more methodically.

She began to feel for her wrist bonds, recognizing the material as Nylon, maybe, a torn pantyhose. She tried to reach for her face, but there wasn’t enough movement, and so, she would have to work blindfolded. Hannah now could breathe again, and though her buttocks still tingled, she would not die from it.

Her nimble fingers found one of the knots that had tightened from her pulling, and so, she began to work on it in enforced patience, knowing that once she had freed one wrist, the rest would be piece of cake. Her vanity kicked in, and so, when she could hear steps from the corridor, she didn’t moan and continued to pick on the knot instead.

After a few minutes, her fingers hurt, but then, the tight knot loosened, and after another minute, she could pull her hand out of the noose. Hannah ripped away the blindfold and yanked the scarf from between her lips. Then, she pulled the wad from her mouth, and she panted from exhaustion before she was able to work on her other wrist.

Finally, she was free, and she sat up – only to find out that with her still sore butt, this wasn’t such a good idea. She got up, staggered and grabbed the desk before she landed on the floor. To her surprise, her handbag was lying on the desk, and when she checked it, neither her wallet nor her cell phone was missing. Her laptop was still placed on the desk, and she didn’t have any other valuable things in her cabin.

So, Hannah took a deep breath and left her cabin. On the other end of the corridor, she saw a couple return from their dinner, but she didn’t want to cry on the shoulder of some random person. Instead, she remembered something  she had seen in the corner of her eye during the check-in, and with the help of one of the maps hanging in the corridors, she found the so called »Sherrif’s Office«, the little office of the ship’s security. Through the glass door, she could see a woman and a man, both in blue uniforms. Without knocking, she entered.

»What the-«, the man gasped, looking angrily at his magazine on which he had just spilled some coffee. The woman, however, rose and approached Hannah. Melissa had immediately seen Hannah’s deranged makeup, and the expression on her face told her something had happened.

»I – I have been assaulted!«

Melissa offered a chair to the woman, but Hannah told her that right now, she would prefer to stand. Now, Melissa shuddered from the implications her inability to sit provoked in front of her inner eye. To the man, she said:

»I do the talking, Bernd, just take some notes!«

Bernd Kugler grunted and sat behind his computer. Usually, he had little to nothing to do on a cruise, but if something happened at international waters, it fell under their responsibility. He wasn’t especially misogynistic, but his views on women were old-fashioned even for a 51 year old man. So, he was glad that his female colleague would deal with the hysteric passenger.

Quickly, Hannah gave a summary of what had happened, and Melissa felt a slight relief. At least, the woman hadn’t been raped. However, she had also not been robbed, and the whole assault sounded a bit like a rough prank. Bernd chuckled:

»So, he spanked you, after he stole your panties?«

Hannah blushed slightly, and Melissa stared daggers at her insensitive colleague. To show that at least she was capable of Police work, she asked:

»Do you have any suspects?«

Now, Hannah took a deep breath before she answered:

»I would prefer not to tell you the name yet, but I am a journalist, and a few hours ago, I was trying to take a few pictures of someone who maybe is – well, of interest for me. His bodyguard told me to keep away from them, and they even forced me to delete the photos. Well, in the evening, I took some more pictures, and then, this attack happened! However-«

Melissa, a bit annoyed by Hannah’s secrecy, looked at her, and the girl told her that she had seen the bodyguard at the outside bar close to the first class, shortly before entering her cabin.

»The man had been waiting for me already! So, it can’t have been him! And it can also not have been his boss!«

When Melissa frowned, Hannah smiled for the first time:

»If it had been him, my room would still reek of his terrible cigars!«

The combination of cigars and a criminal attitude rang a bell in Melissa’s head, and she decided to confront Hannah directly:

»Are you referring to a certain American passenger, looking like a mobster, and accompanied by a gorilla that looks as if he opens walnuts with his forehead?«

Hannah was a bit abashed that Melissa had been able to deduce Davenport’s identity so quickly, but she nodded. Melissa gently grabbed her arm.

»Miss Hoth, let me get you to cabin now! I will have a look for evidence and also see that there is no one inside! Then, you lock yourself in whilst I will go to the bar and see if this bodyguard and his boss have alibis! If not, they will have a lot to explain! Though they are almost never used, we have got two arrest cells aboard this ship!«

Hannah, who felt taken seriously and also was impressed by Melissa’s wit and determination, found back to her former self:

»If you have to arrest Davenport, will I get an exclusive interview?

***