Gabe.
I look away. Whatever is going on with him and Hope, I don’t want to be in the middle of it. And I note she did not insist on duetting withhim.
Theo comes back on stage and takes the mics from Hope and me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, join me in thanking these two for that magnificent number!” he says. We bow and head back to our sofa as he introduces the night’s final singer—Lauren, performing “Heartbreaker.” She high-fives us as we walk past her.
We’re both panting a bit from the exertion and adrenaline of what we’ve just achieved, and we collapse down on the couch and fall into laughter. Hope puts her head on my shoulder, overcome with giggles.
I would like this, were it not for my awareness of Gabe’s eyes on her. I don’t know if she’s noticed him too. I pray she’s not doing this to get a reaction out of him.
But I like her touch too much to move away.
She stays there the entirety of Lauren’s performance—which is directed exclusively at Colin. When she’s done, he leaps up to give her a one-man standing ovation. I suspect I’m not the only man on this cruise who is feeling immoderate attachment to an American girl he met a few days ago.
Theo returns to the stage and starts to thank us all for coming when Gabe calls out, “Do you have time for one more? Sorry, I was late and didn’t have a chance to sign up.”
Theo mimes checking his watch. “Ladies and gentlemen, what do you think? Time for one last song?”
Everyone applauds gamely.
Gabe sails up to the stage with charming smiles for the crowd. I resent how handsome and confident he is. He confers with Theo over the iPad, then takes the mic.
“I’d like to dedicate this song to the most beautiful girl on the boat,” he says, grinning at Hope. “I’m not a great singer,” he confides to the audience. “Bear with me, I beg you.”
The room takes to this confession fondly.
I glance at Hope. She has adjusted herself so that we’re no longer touching. A tight smile is affixed to her face. And then the song comes on.
It’s “Please Forgive Me” by Bryan Adams.
Now, as I just demonstrated, I am the last person in the world to assert that men cannot sing songs in a high register. Some of us are brilliant at it.
Gabe, as promised, is not.
He doesn’t seem to care, however. The point of this exercise is obviously not the way he sounds, but the message he wishes to impart.
“Are you in a karaoke battle?” Prue hisses to me.
I really, really hope not.
“If they are, Felix is winning,” Pear says. “Mate’s butchering this.”
“He realizes it’s a song about wanting someone back aftertreating them like shit, right?” Lauren says loudly.
“At least he’s self-aware,” Hope mutters.
I take heart in the fact that she doesn’t seem to be enjoying this.
The song finally—mercifully—ends, and the crowd applauds in what I assume is some combination of gratitude that the torture is over and sympathy for the man who has just made such a humbling production of himself.
He bows and hands the mic back to Theo.
An old woman near the aisle touches his wrist. “She must be quite a girl,” she says to him.
“The best,” Gabe says, looking at Hope.
“Well, that was an, um…memorableconclusion to the evening,” Theo says. “Thank you so much to all our talented entertainers! And don’t forget to come back tomorrow night for our magnificent magic show.”
