Southampton Secret
"Cruise ship concierge Adanna serves passengers from around the world—but the thick Zimbabwean solo traveler in the penthouse suite wants service that goes far beyond the brochure."
The penthouse suite cost more than most people's houses.
Rumbidzai occupied it alone.
"I need companionship," she told Adanna. "Someone to dine with. Talk with. Be with."
"I can arrange companions—"
"I want you."
"That's not standard service."
"I'll pay whatever it costs."
The Atlantic crossing took seven nights.
Each one, Adanna found herself in that suite, professional distance dissolving like sea foam.
"You're lonely," she observed.
"Wealthy and lonely are best friends." Rumbidzai's thick body curved toward her. "But you make me feel less alone."
"I'm working."
"So stop working. Just... be with me."
International waters had their own rules.
Or so Adanna told herself as she kissed Rumbidzai.
"Is this allowed?" Rumbidzai asked.
"Probably not."
"Then let's make it count."
The suite's ocean view witnessed everything.
Two thick women finding solace in each other while the ship sailed through darkness.
"I've never done this," Rumbidzai admitted.
"Neither have I."
"Is that bad?"
"It feels right."
The cruise ended in New York.
Rumbidzai didn't want to disembark.
"Come with me," she said. "Leave the ship. Leave everything."
"I can't just—"
"You can. If you want to."
Adanna looked at the gangway. Then at Rumbidzai.
She'd spent years serving others' dreams.
Maybe it was time to chase her own.
"Okay," she said.
Southampton's best concierge never returned to the cruise line.
But she found something better than any voyage could offer.