"Well, that's in the ballpark," Lorrie says hesitantly.

I have nothing more to say and just when I'm about to look over at the director and shout out "Line!" I'm startled by the sound of a champagne bottle being uncorked, followed by Stephen asking, "So you're still going to Paris, Victor?"

"I think I was always going to Paris, Stephen old chap," I say.

"What's really taking you to Paris, Victor?" Stephen asks, his eyes narrowing. "Do you have friends there?"

"Actually I'll let you in on a fittle secret," I say.

"Yes?" they both say, leaning in.

"I was supposed to go to London," I admit, then smile sheepishly and whisper, "I got sidetracked."

"Well, I hope not for too long," Stephen says. "You must stop by London on your way back to the States."

"We'll see how things turn out in Paris, Stephen old chap," I say confidently, downing another glass of champagne.

Since my back is to the entrance of the Queen's Grill I don't see Marina come in but heads start turning and even though Stephen and Lorrie have never met Marina, their drone is interrupted by her arrival, and instinctively, on cue, I turn around. Marina looks stunning, effortlessly inhabiting the role that will create a star; Makeup and Costume have done an unbelievable job and her hair is pulled back so tightly and in such an elegant way that I'm practically squirming in my chair and then I'm holding out a hand, guiding her to the table. Delicately she accepts it, as if I were helping her cross a threshold she was wary about but since I'm on the other side-hey, it's okay. Introductions are made as she's seated.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Marina says genuinely.

"Oh, that's okay," I say. "We were having a very, very interesting and I ively conversation about..." Stuck, I have to look over at the Wallaces.

"Californian cuisine," Stephen reminds me.

"Oh yeah."

"Champagne?" Stephen asks Marina a little too eagerly.

"Thank you," Marina says as Stephen pours, and then, trying to insinuate herself immediately into the conversation, asks, "Are we supposed to be stopping soon?"

"In about fifteen minutes," Stephen says, placing the champagne back in its bucket. I lift out the bottle and pour myself another glass.

"Doesn't anybody find this odd?" Marina asks, letting the maitre d' drape a napkin across her lap.

"I think the law of the sea requires vessels to help each other in times of distress," Stephen says. "I don't think the QE2 is exempt."

"It's really not that much of an inconvenience," Lorrie says, slowly looking Marina over.

"I don't know how they'll find that boat in all this fog," Marina says.

"Really-there's fog?" I ask, having assumed that I had been staring at a giant gray wall but actually it's a huge window that overlooks the starboard deck. "Whoa," I mutter.

"Well, radar is quite sophisticated these-" Stephen starts.

"Excuse me," Lorrie says, staring intently at Marina, "but do we know each other?"

Marina studies Lorrie. "I'm not-"

"I mean, have we met?" Lorrie asks. "You look remarkably familiar."

"She's a model," I interject. "Thass why."

"No, no, it's not that," Lorrie says, then, gently prodding, "Are you from New York? Could we have met there?"

"I don't believe we have," Marina says, then smiles and tightly adds, "But who knows?" She lifts her champagne flute, brings it to her lips but doesn't sip.

"But I'm sure we have," Lorrie murmurs, gazing. "Positive, in fact."

"Really?" Marina asks with a subtle kind of panic.

"Yes, I'm sure we've met," Lorric insists.

"Where, darling?" Stephen asks.

"That's what I can't place," Lorrie murmurs.

"Are you in the States often?" Marina asks.

But our waiter arrives and Stephen suggests we order dinner now, before the boat makes its stop, which I'm all in favor of so this night can proceed elsewhere. Marina demurs, saying she really isn't that hungry. Stephen says something along the lines of "Well, my dear, you can't order off the children's menu," and that's our cue to "laugh heartily." First course: caviar. Second course: the girls opt for lobster medallions instead of foie gras. Third course: duck. Siephen orders two bottles of wine from the sommelier, who seems impressed by the selections.