Roger
As I push the door to our cabin open, a wave of relief washes over me. My eyes take in the incredible interior—a sumptuous sofa, beds lined with goose-down pillows, mahogany tables carved with intricate designs—plus everything I requested to make this week comfortable for Abby.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see two security guards standing at the entrance to the hallway. After the altercation in the terminal, we were given a personal escort to our cabin, along with welcome drinks. An icy glass of whiskey for me and a Shirley Temple with a maraschino cherry for Abby.
I wouldn’t have thought the drunkards would have been allowed to board, but I guess money talks. That and the young woman refused to speak up when questioned about the incident. After everything, she told the crew it wa
