I Thought It Was You (Oceanic Dreams #4)

by Kirsty McManus

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you don’t mind, I need to get back to work…” I hurried off. Wow. That woman was truly horrid. Imagine being so insecure that you had to investigate everyone you knew, including your doctor.

  It was almost midnight when I snuck back into Jamila’s suite. The bed had been made up in my room, so I quickly brushed my teeth and got under the covers.

  I always slept badly on the first night in a new location, and all the drama from the day was definitely not helping the situation. Even the alcohol didn’t really help calm the chaotic mess in my brain.

  It only seemed like an hour later that Jamila was shaking me.

  “Wake up. I want to go to yoga at eight-thirty.”

  I groaned. “I am terrible at yoga. And I didn’t get enough sleep.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be an advanced class, so you’ll be fine. It’ll help you wake up.”

  I reluctantly got out of bed and started sifting through my luggage. “I didn’t bring any workout gear.”

  “Just wear a t-shirt and shorts. No one will care what you look like.”

  “All right. Let me splash some water on my face and I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.” She went and waited in the living room while I changed and tried to make myself look slightly more human. “Why didn’t you sleep well?” she asked from the other side of the suite. “Was the bed okay?”

  “The bed was fine. Great, actually. But it usually takes me a couple of days to get used to a new place.”

  She laughed. “Try being an actress. I sleep in dozens of hotels all year long. If we have to shoot on location…or if we’re doing press around the country…”

  “Do you miss your house?”

  “Yeah, I do. But that’s the price you pay to have a job most people only dream about.”

  I wondered if I had a job like Jamila’s whether I’d get used to being a nomad, or if I’d be constantly craving normalcy.

  I joined her in the living room. “Okay, I’m ready.” I belatedly realized it was way past 7am, the time Patrick had suggested he’d be free for breakfast. I’d have to apologize later.

  We had just stepped out into the hall when a message came over the loudspeaker.

  “Olivia Turner, could you please come to the concierge desk immediately?”

  I turned to Jamila, panicked. “What do I do?”

  “Just ignore it,” she said, unconcerned.

  “But what if it’s something important?”

  She huffed. “All right. I guess you could go check. Come and meet me at yoga after. And look out for Zara.”

  “I will.”

  I hurried to the concierge desk, kind of relieved to have an excuse to get out of yoga, at least for a few minutes, but also worried about why my name had been called.

  I greeted the woman waiting there. “Hi, I’m Olivia Turner,” I said quietly, hoping no one was listening in.

  “Oh, great. We’ve been looking for you! The coordinators of the singles cruise mentioned that you hadn’t attended any of their sessions. They were worried you might be lost.”

  “I…I guess I was a little shy,” I said, unable to come up with a better excuse.

  She smiled kindly. “That’s perfectly natural. But don’t worry, I’ll see you to one of the morning sessions and introduce you to some people who will help you feel welcome.”

  “Actually, I wanted to do some yoga this morning…”

  “Yoga is part of the schedule, but not until later today. Please follow me.”

  I needed to extricate myself from this situation as quickly as possible, but I didn’t know how.

  “I’m not sure the whole singles thing is for me,” I said honestly.

  “I understand, but I’m afraid because you booked your cruise through Sassy Singles, you are obligated to attend at least fifty percent of their scheduled events. It was mentioned in the paperwork.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “What happens if I don’t attend them?”

  “Then you’ll be charged the full regular cruise rate. Sassy Singles negotiated a deal with the cruise line, because they could guarantee numbers early on.”

  “Oh.” I’d have to explain this all to Jamila when I managed to escape whatever we were doing this morning.

  “For now, try to relax and have some fun. You can go over any concerns with Jen, the singles coordinator.”

  “Okay.” I figured it couldn’t hurt to attend one session. And surely it would be more fun than exercise.

  I just hoped I didn’t live to regret that thought.

  Chapter Eight

  Day Two: At Sea

  The woman led me into a big room where several dozen people had gathered. A few of them turned to see who had just arrived, but they didn’t stare.

  A curvy woman with long black hair came over to us.

  “Jen, I found Liv for you,” my guide said.

  “Oh, great. Hi, Liv!”

  “Hey.”

  Crap. This was ruining my whole plan with Jamila. She would be furious if she heard me answering to my own name. I quickly looked around. At least Zara wasn’t here. That had to count for something.

  “Liv’s feeling a little shy.”

  Jen beamed. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that immediately. Come join us! You’re just in time!”

  The other woman waved me off. “Go on. Jen will take good care of you.”

  I reluctantly followed Jen to a circle of chairs, where some of the men and women were already seated.

  “Gather around, people. I’m going to explain what we’re doing this morning.”

  The rest of the group ambled over. I kept my focus on Jen. I wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to mingle. Not only did I not know how to avoid blowing my cover, I wasn’t familiar with the etiquette on a singles cruise. Were there special code-words people used to show they were interested in each other? And if so, how did I avoid accidentally saying one?

  “All right. I’m really excited about what we have organized for you this morning. My lovely assistant Brook is a bit of a Bachelor fan, and she suggested we take some inspiration from the show.

  Eek. I didn’t like the sound of that. I was a fan of The Bachelor as a viewer, but I had never once considered applying as a contestant.

  Jen chuckled. “No, we’re not going to have a rose ceremony, but we are going to steal one of their date ideas. We’ve brought in the ship’s photographer, the amazing Paolo, and we’re going to stage a little magazine shoot. The theme is nautical, and it will be published in our Sassy Singles marketing material. We have a bunch of costumes in the room next door, and a couple of hair and makeup artists on hand. So, go and find your allocated costumes. We begin shooting in half an hour.”

  We were dressing up? In a nautical theme? Bachelor style? Yikes.

  I took my time following everyone into the next room in order to avoid the crush. This was an excitable group.

  I watched as several women scoured racks along the back wall and found outfits with their names on them, squealing as they held the garments up to their bodies. One was a blue and white strapless dress with a blue bow in the center of the chest, and gold anchors printed near the lower hem. It would barely cover the woman’s butt once she had it on. She happily hurried off to some change-rooms in the corner, grabbing a sailor’s cap on the way and plonking it on her head.

  I nervously flicked through the racks, looking for an outfit with my name on it.

  Oh.

  That wasn’t so bad. It was a navy dress with red bows and white trim. The bottom flared out slightly, thanks to a red tulle lining, and it ended just below my knees. I could imagine swing dancing in something like this. There was even a pair of red kitten heels to go with it.

  I wondered if my brother had been asked to fill out some sort of questionnaire about me while organizing the cruise package. If so, I was grateful he didn’t go wild and put me down as an adre
naline junky extrovert.

  I checked out the guys leaving the change-rooms. There were lots of white flared pants and tight horizontal-striped t-shirts. But none of the guys inside those outfits were as good-looking as Wells.

  Who I was not thinking about right now.

  I recognized one of the guys from the pizza restaurant last night. He was the one Wells pointed out had been staring at me from near the entrance in the plaid shirt. He was now wearing the male version of my outfit, with blue pants and a Sailor Moon-like top. He obviously saw it as a sign and grinned at me.

  “I wonder if this means we’ll be part of the same shoot?” he said.

  “I’m guessing so.”

  “I saw you last night with that guy. He your boyfriend?”

  I knew he was expecting me to say no, considering where we were right now, but I wanted to say yes, just to get him off my back. However, things were already complicated enough with my new identity. I was still torn about who I should be presenting myself as. The coordinators had me registered as Liv, but I could always use the same reasoning Jamila had concocted yesterday, and say the Aussie thing was just a silly game I played.

  Thankfully, Jen interrupted us before I had to answer. “All right, Greg, I see you’ve met Liv already. You’re going to be part of the first group, along with Kellie here.” She pointed to a woman with a blonde pixie cut, who was wearing a top like Greg, but little blue hot pants and knee-high white socks on her bottom half.

  Kellie, you and Liv will be pretending to fight over Greg.”

  Really? What century was this again?

  Kellie seemed to love the idea. She giggled and wrapped her arm around Greg’s shoulder. “Come on, Hot Stuff. Let’s do this.”

  Greg raised an eyebrow at me. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, but there was zero chemistry at my end.

  “We’ll get you sorted with hair and makeup and then you can head over to the set,” Jen instructed, pointing to a couple of nearby salon chairs.

  I sighed and sat down in one. A woman stuck giant fake lashes over my existing ones and coated my face in a thick layer of foundation, while another wrapped sections of my hair in a curling iron to make big loose waves. After my lips were slathered in a glossy apple-red shade, I inspected my reflection in the mirror.

  Huh.

  I wasn’t totally unimpressed. I did look slightly like a showgirl, but I could cope with that for a couple of hours.

  We headed to the ‘set’, which was just a corner of the main room with some bright lighting and one of those silver flash umbrella things.

  Paolo, the photographer, seemed very much in the spirit of the event, and gently pushed us all in front of the camera.

  “Okay, Blondie, I want you leaning forward with one leg kicked up behind while you kiss your sailor on the cheek. And you, darling,” he said to me, “I want you looking at the camera and pretending to be upset that someone is trying to steal your man.”

  I rolled my eyes and inhaled deeply, putting on my best fake outrage.

  “Good,” Paolo said, snapping away. “Now, Blondie, I want you to grab his head and have your noses touching.”

  I was glad he’d nominated me for the third wheel. I had absolutely no interest in getting up close and personal with Greg.

  We had to do a few other poses, before Paolo described one last scenario.

  “Now I want you both to kiss him, one on each cheek.”

  Yuck. How tacky. But if this was the last thing I had to do, I could handle it. I leaned forward and hovered my lips half an inch from Greg’s face, except at the last minute, he turned and kissed me full on the mouth. I yanked my head back and wiped off his slobber. Kellie seemed put out, and punched him on the arm.

  “That was great!” Paolo said enthusiastically. “Very authentic.”

  I stalked off, feeling violated. A few minutes before, I might have considered talking to Greg on a platonic level, but that kiss was way out of line.

  “Hey!” Greg called, grabbing my arm.

  I spun around. “That wasn’t cool, dude.” I’d forgotten to put on the southern accent, but was too angry to care.

  “I thought we had something going there,” he reasoned.

  “How could you think we had something going? You were practically making out with Kellie the whole time!”

  “But it was you I was thinking about.”

  “Gross. Sorry, buddy. I’m not into you at all.”

  He frowned. “Well, you don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

  My eyes widened. “How is that being a bitch? You just kissed me without permission. You’re lucky I don’t report you to the singles crew.”

  “You do know we’re all here to hook up, don’t you? You think the crew care about one lousy kiss?”

  “Um, yes, I think they might. It’s called sexual assault, and I’m pretty sure they take that kind of thing seriously. So if you don’t want to get kicked off at the next port, I suggest you behave.”

  He shook his head and wandered off, muttering something to himself. I think I caught the word ‘uptight’ in there somewhere.

  Wow. I really hoped he was the exception, and the rest of the singles group weren’t so offensive.

  I went to get changed, but Jen stopped me. “We’re going to do a group shot at the end, so you’ll need to stay in character for a little while longer. But feel free to grab a refreshment in the meantime.”

  Damn. “Okay. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

  “Sure. The nearest one is just outside in the corridor and to your left.”

  “Thanks.” I hurried out. If there was any way at all to avoid going back inside, I’d figure it out.

  Chapter Nine

  I almost cried with relief when I saw Jamila’s anxious face in the corridor. She opened her mouth as if to scold me, but changed her mind and burst out laughing. “What are you wearing?”

  “I got roped into participating in one of the singles events. I couldn’t get out of it, because apparently if I don’t go to fifty-percent of their activities, I’m going to be charged more for the cruise.”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll take care of that. I need you to be focused on me twenty-four-seven.”

  Normally, if someone had said they wanted me to dedicate that much attention to them, I’d tell them to get lost, but in this instance, I was actually quite grateful. And of course, Jamila was paying me for that very purpose. “Thank you. It really wasn’t my scene in there.”

  “I’ll bet. Well, come on. We need to get you back into your regular clothes before someone wonders why my rehab nurse is dressed like that.”

  “I’m supposed to go back for the final group photo.”

  “And what? You want to?”

  “No.”

  “Then skip it. It’s not like anything bad will happen if you’re a no-show. I already said I’d cover the extra cost. I’m getting the feeling you’ve never done anything against the rules. Am I right?”

  “I just like to do what I say I’m going to do.”

  “Even if it means making yourself miserable?”

  “I guess. Some situations are more important than my feelings.”

  “Well, your loyalty is misguided here. The people in that room will get over it if you don’t return.” She dragged me down the hall and I let her.

  Fortunately, we returned to the suite without anyone seeing me. I quickly dressed back in my everyday clothes and removed the fake lashes. “I just realized, I left my other outfit back with the group.”

  “I’ll have the butler get everything later, and he can return your costume at the same time.”

  I still couldn’t get over the fact that Jamila had access to a butler.

  “How was yoga?” I asked.

  “Oh my God, it was awful. I mean, the class itself was fine, but Zara showed up and she stared at me the whole session! And afterwards, she was asking where you were and I had to make up some excuse about you waiting outside. I left before everyone e
lse, and managed to lose her before she had a chance to follow me.”

  “There must be a rule about stalking someone on a ship.”

  “You’d think so. But part of me is glad I can keep an eye on her, because she can’t create as much havoc while she’s still onboard.”

  “Let’s just hope she hasn’t been able to contact anyone via the internet yet.”

  “I’m sure she would have let me know if she had.”

  We spent the rest of the day laying low. Jamila somehow managed to find a few episodes of True Blood on the cruise’s in-house entertainment system, so I got a chance to practice my accent a bit more. Jamila organized for me to be officially separated from the singles group and paid the difference, so that was one less thing to worry about.

  We went down to the spa and had a facial, followed by lunch in her suite. It was fun, but weird. I guess I was doing more than I would if I were here on my own, but it was strange to be sort of working and at the mercy of another human being.

  Later that evening, Jamila flopped down next to me on the couch in her suite. I had been reading a cheesy romance novel, which had arrived in a pile of books Jamila had requested to be sent from the library.

  “I’m bored,” she said. “No offense, but even though you’re fun company, I’m kind of craving contact with other people.”

  I laughed. “No offense taken.” I looked at my watch. “I have an idea. Come on.”

  Jamila raised an eyebrow. “What are we doing?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She really must have been bored, because she followed me without any further questions or argument.

  We ended up on the casino floor, just as Patrick was finishing a shift.

  “I can’t be here,” Jamila hissed. “It’ll look bad if a supposed addict is gambling.”

  “Just stay here for a second,” I assured her. “I’m not encouraging you to gamble.”

  She glanced around the room and her gaze settled on the roulette table. A slow smile spread across her face. “Is that your brother?”

  I nodded. “And he’s just about to take a break. He’s staff, so he’s not allowed to blow your cover, but he wouldn’t anyway.”