I Thought It Was You (Oceanic Dreams #4)

by Kirsty McManus

  “This place all right?” he asked, pointing to it.

  “Anywhere is fine,” I agreed.

  We went inside and both Wells and I ordered coffee. It would take a while to get used to using cash again. I quite liked having all my food and drink included on the ship.

  I rested my suitcase beside one of the tables and suddenly got an attack of the nerves. “I just have to go to the bathroom,” I told him.

  “Sure.” His eyes twinkled as he watched me. Damn, the guy was amazing.

  I hurried off to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. Okay. This was it. I was going to tell him the truth, and deal with the consequences.

  I made my way back to the table, all ready to tell him my story.

  But he was gone.

  My stuff was still at the table, so I knew I hadn’t forgotten where we were sitting. Had he needed to go to the bathroom too and couldn’t wait?

  But when I sat down and looked at what was on the table, I knew that wasn’t the case.

  It was the cruise literature I’d been handed on my way off the ship. I hadn’t had a chance to look at it myself, but apparently Wells had. It was open to an insert in the middle, featuring the most recent Sassy Singles group. Which included a photo of me dressed in that nautical outfit, and a caption that read ‘Sassy Singles Greg Jervis (USA), Kellie Brown (UK), and Liv Turner (Australia).’

  My heart sank. I mean, I could have argued that I was still roleplaying with that photo, but Wells probably decided I could no longer be trusted, especially being part of the singles group. I knew if the situation had been reversed, I probably would have reacted the same way.

  And he had no reason to stick around and find out more. It wasn’t worth all that hassle for a few extra hours when he was never going to see me again. Especially if he was working on the assumption I was returning permanently to Australia.

  I felt terrible. I didn’t usually lie. And now I knew why.

  I was never going to do anything like that again.

  But having Wells lose all respect for me was a pretty crappy lesson to learn.

  Chapter Seventeen

  One month later…

  I never expected to feel at home in LA. Whenever I’d thought about it in the past, it had always seemed intimidating…where all the beautiful people lived.

  But it probably helped I was living with one of them. Actually, two of them. Sharing a house with Jamila and Zara had been a lot of fun so far. They’ve had such great ideas, and I knew our company was going to create some amazing projects. I was pleasantly surprised to find I was able to contribute in a meaningful way, too. All that communications practice translated well into PR and marketing. Plus, I had picked up enough information along the way to have a slightly above-average understanding of banking. I didn’t feel like I was the lesser member of the group in any way. Unless you counted in the acting stakes. But I wasn’t even as worried about that after attending a few classes and getting some decent feedback from my coach.

  The only thing I couldn’t compete on was actually being able to bankroll the venture. But Jamila had put in a bit of her money and Zara had used some of her inheritance. Also, Jamila had called the first name on her possible investor list and had managed to organize a meeting with someone we were meeting today.

  I wandered out into the kitchen that morning. Patrick was sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking a coffee.

  “Hey,” I said, still not wanting to visualize my brother sleeping with Jamila.

  “Hey!” he replied cheerfully. He was now in between cruise contracts, and Jamila had invited him to join us for a few weeks. I sometimes wondered if Jamila had just stayed in touch with me as an elaborate way to reach my brother. But that was really only when I was feeling particularly insecure. Which thankfully, wasn’t often.

  “Big day planned?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Probably not this morning, since you three are off to your meeting. But Jamila and I were going to go out for lunch later and then check out an exhibition at the Night Gallery.”

  “Nice.”

  “What about you? Any plans after the meeting?”

  “Not that I know of. I might go down to the beach or something.” Jamila’s house wasn’t particularly close to the water, but I didn’t mind the drive. Growing up on the other side of the world, I always dreamed about being able to regularly hang out at Santa Monica Pier and Venice Beach. I’d been down there at least half a dozen times already. I liked being by myself, too. After the whole Wells thing, I knew I needed to take some time before jumping back into a relationship. I’d actually tried to send him an apology note via his mother’s Twitter account, but it had gone ignored. And when I tried to google Wells Brewster along with some variations of different charity words, nothing came up. I suspected his last name wasn’t Brewster, and my internet searches were mistaking Wells’ name for the kind that get dug in the ground. I’d pretty much resigned myself to the fact I’d never see him again.

  Patrick was still talking, so I tried to re-focus.

  “Jamila told me you guys are planning a whole bunch of projects, but one is a movie featuring the three of you?”

  I blushed. I wasn’t ready to talk about that to anyone else yet. Mostly because I wanted to wait and see if it was a reality before I got too excited.

  “We’re still in the planning phase,” I said noncommittally.

  “Jamila seems to think it’s a pretty solid thing. She was really impressed with your impersonation of Nina and thinks you have real talent. You know, I always thought you’d be well suited to acting.”

  I stared at him. “But you were the golden boy! The one everyone offered the roles to.”

  “I know. But I didn’t want them. I always froze up as soon as I was given even the tiniest amount of responsibility.”

  “That’s not true!” I said, suddenly feeling like the earth had tilted on its axis.

  “It is. I just didn’t want anyone to know. So I always came up with dumb excuses not to follow through.”

  “But I saw you in the casino! You were a real showman!”

  “That’s totally different. No one knows who I am there, and they never see me again after they get off the ship. There’s no pressure.”

  I continued to study him. “I never knew.”

  “Well, of course I wanted to look cool to my little sister. We couldn’t have you being the one everyone worshipped.”

  I playfully slapped his arm. “Gee, thanks.”

  He turned serious for a moment. “But really, I do hope it goes well for you here. I know you have the talent, and I’m glad Jamila and Zara see it. You’re going to kick butt.”

  I spontaneously reached over and gave him a hug. “Thanks, bro.”

  Jamila finally appeared and poured herself some coffee. “A bit of sibling bonding first thing in the morning?”

  “Just a touch,” I said, grinning.

  “I like that. I’m an only child, so I never got to experience it.”

  “Believe me, we weren’t always this amicable.”

  Zara was the last to join us. She was already dressed and ready for our meeting. “Come on, girls. We need to leave in half an hour! Why are you both still in your PJs?”

  Zara was the most driven out of all of us and was really taking the venture seriously. I was so glad we had her.

  “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time,” Jamila assured her.

  I drank down my coffee and headed to the shower. “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  “Dress to impress!” Jamila called after me.

  Jamila and Zara were acting really weird as we drove over to The Ivy, where we were meeting our new investor. Like they were keeping a secret from me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously. Jamila was driving, and Zara was in the passenger seat. I was stuck in the back and couldn’t hear what they were whispering.

  “Nothing. We just need to make a quick stop on the way.”

  �
��To where? And why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Oh, can we give her one of the surprises now?” Zara begged Jamila.

  “Nice one, Zara. She didn’t know there were going to be any surprises until you just ruined it.”

  “I don’t like surprises,” I warned. “They better be good ones.”

  “We promise they are both fantastic ones,” Zara said.

  Jamila sighed. “Okay. Give her the first one.”

  Zara giggled excitedly and rummaged around in her handbag for a moment before pulling out a slip of paper. She handed it to me.

  Oh. This wasn’t just any slip of paper. It was a check for three thousand dollars.

  “What is this?” I asked, bewildered. I’d already agreed that I didn’t want any money from Jamila from my time on the cruise, and she should just use it for our company.

  “Look at the name on the check,” Zara instructed.

  I squinted at the small printed type and gasped.

  “This is from Damien?”

  Both women cackled with laughter, but it was Jamila who explained how she’d obtained it. “Yes! We convinced him to invest in our company. He’s going to fund an actor who will play a particularly douchey character who just so happens to be called Damien. We were also a bit vague on the returns he might get back, so who knows whether he’ll see a profit?”

  My first instinct was to roar with laughter. But a tiny part of me felt bad.

  “I don’t want to be mean.”

  “He was a lot meaner to you, babe! We are definitely keeping that three thousand dollars. We could even ask him to invest more if you like.”

  I looked at the check, still in disbelief. “I wonder how much of this money is what he took from me?”

  “Probably all of it. And didn’t you say you also supported him for a year?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Don’t overthink it. We didn’t trick him or anything. It’s not our fault if he’s unhappy with what we use it for.”

  “Okay. Thank you. I appreciate what you’re both trying to do.”

  “Anyway, three grand is nothing. We’re about to convince someone to give us a lot more than that.”

  I almost forgot to ask. “Hang on. What was the second surprise?”

  “You’ll find out in exactly…two minutes.”

  Jamila pulled over and pointed to a small building. “Before we go to The Ivy, we need you to go in there and collect a package for us.”

  “What kind of package?”

  “Just tell the woman at the desk you’re there on my behalf,” Jamila said.

  “Why the secrecy?”

  “It’s more fun this way.”

  “For you, maybe,” I grumbled.

  “Go on. She’ll be expecting you.”

  I reluctantly got out and approached the small modern building with a sign featuring a red circle with the letter J inside. That gave me no clue as to where I was entering.

  The lobby was minimalist, with a sleek rectangular ottoman along one wall and a marble reception counter at the back. A woman with a short dark bob sat behind it.

  “Hi,” I said nervously. “I have a package to pick up for Jamila Castro?”

  “Oh, right. Yes. I’ll just have it brought out to you.”

  She picked up the phone and spoke softly to a person on the other end. After she hung up, she looked at me. “They’ll just be a moment.”

  I continued to scan the lobby, wondering what the purpose of this place was. Was it something to do with our production company? And why all the cloak and dagger stuff?

  I heard a door open nearby and spun around.

  Wells was standing there. And he looked as equally shocked to see me as I was to see him.

  “Liv?”

  “Uh, hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I’d like to ask you the same question.” He was holding a big folder.

  “I was sent by Jamila to pick up a package. But clearly that was all a ruse.”

  His face hardened. “You lied to me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I liked you so much that I couldn’t bear the idea of you hating me. After I left, I tried to apologize via your mom’s Twitter account. I also googled you, but I didn’t know who to look for…”

  “But why couldn’t you have told me the truth on the cruise? I would have been able to keep a secret.”

  “It wasn’t my secret to tell. Although, I was going to confide in you so many times, but we got interrupted, or I chickened out. I was going to tell you the last time I saw you, but you found out before I had a chance.”

  “So, do you actually want this?” he asked, pointing to the folder.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s information on raising funds for charitable organizations.”

  “Oh.” That didn’t seem right. I hoped Jamila wasn’t trying to portray our new production company as a charitable organization. “Actually, I’m not sure.”

  At that moment, my phone beeped. I glanced down and saw a message from Jamila. Take the folder. We’re setting up a side project to help addicts with their treatment.

  I stared at Wells. “We’re actually going to do it.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Do what?”

  “Help people with their rehab!”

  “But you’re not a nurse,” he pointed out.

  “No, I know. But we’re going to raise money to pay real ones so they can help more addicts.” I was almost more excited about this prospect than the production company.

  “Really?”

  “Yes!”

  “That’s…good.”

  He still looked a little put out by the whole situation. I didn’t blame him.

  “I didn’t know you lived here,” I said quietly.

  “I don’t. I’m just staying for a few weeks to help get a new project off the ground. So Jamila is the reason you’re here? I wonder how she knew where I’d be.”

  I thought about it for a second. It was more likely that Zara had hired her investigator again. I figured that conversation would be best saved for another day.

  “She has a lot of connections,” I said lamely.

  “Are you hanging around town for a while?” he asked in a way that sounded casual, but I hoped was serious.

  “I guess at least a few months. And then I’ll have to figure out a more permanent solution.”

  He looked torn. Like he wanted to forgive me, but he wasn’t quite ready to yet. I jumped at the opportunity to help speed things along.

  “I really am sorry. Is there anything I can do or say to make it up to you?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Anything?”

  “Within reason.”

  “Will you come and dig toilets with me in Uganda?”

  “Of course. I would do that anyway. But if it helps to impress you, bonus.”

  That seemed to satisfy him. He covered the space between us in a few strides and looked at me intently.

  “Never lie to me again.”

  “I promise I won’t.”

  “Good.” He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my mouth. I sighed happily, threading my fingers through his hair and pulling him tightly towards me.

  I’d got my dream guy.

  And I could finally be me.

  Ready to read more? Grab I Will Follow Him here or read on for a sneak peek!

  Sneak Peek: I Will Follow Him

  Holly Tierney-Bedord

  Sunday, April 7: A few hours after departure

  Komos Lounge

  “One size jumbo Lotta-Colada, just for you.” The bartender set a fourteen-inch-tall frosty mug on the bar in front of me.

  “Thank you,” I said, looking at his nametag. “Androtimos from Macedonia,” I read. “Goodness, Androtimos, this drink is enormous.”

  “It’s the Lotta-Colada and you ordered a jumbo,” he said, shrugging his bulky shoulders in his tight, shiny little black t-shirt.

  “Yeah, I get it. This is a virgin pina colada, right?�
� I asked him. If not, I wasn’t going to be able to do my job tonight. Or tomorrow. Honestly, I might have to call off the whole assignment.

  “Virgin?” he said, raising one eyebrow and smirking seductively, or so he seemed to suppose. His accent was as thick as his dark, wavy hair.

  “I mean, it doesn’t have alcohol in it, right?” I clarified. Maybe in Macedonia, virgin meant just… you know, virgin.

  “Right,” he said. “No alcohol. That’s why you get not one but two little pink umbrellas in it.”

  “Ahh. Two umbrellas. Thanks for the tip, Androtimos. Now I’ll know if you guys get it right.” I passed him my ship ID card so he could charge the drink to my room, and scanned my surroundings for Evan.

  “Yes, two umbrellas,” he said. “One to say, ‘This is a party!’ and another to say, ‘Oh, but it’s raining on my party.’ My butterfly, you’re on vacation and you should relax!”

  “I wish I could,” I said. “But I can’t. And I’m not your butterfly.”

  Assertive of me, right? Well, I’m working on that. A pushover all my life, I just started reading a book called SAY IT LIKE YOU SEE IT! and I’m trying to put what I’m learning in the book into action. It’s not easy, though. I get a little flustered every time I give the new, mouthy me a go.

  “Sorry,” he said, holding up both palms and taking a step back.

  “That’s right. I’m nobody’s butterfly,” I added and then gave him a tight little smile in case he thought I was messing around.

  He handed my card back to me. “Enjoy your drink,” he said, with a tight little smile of his own.

  I carried my heavy, sloshing, two-umbrella symbol of lameness over to a cozy, round booth meant for two, ducked inside, and pulled my phone out of my shoulder bag. Then I took a sip of my drink—it was so big that I had to stand up a little in my booth to even get the straw into it—and waited. A moment later Evan Aronson and his groomsmen Drake, Eli, and Phil showed up, got drinks, and sat down at a table right across from me. Finally, a lucky break.

  I’d gawked at them all during the muster drill. After weeks of getting ready for this assignment, it had felt a little surreal to see them all standing there in the flesh.