I sighed heavily. This wasn’t going to work. Throwing out a self-defense slap was one thing, but I wasn’t a fighter. Even to prove to Justin the kiss wasn’t my idea, I couldn’t attack my ex. No matter how badly he deserved it. My foot tapped against the pavement as I searched for a solution.
“While you two discuss the best way to assault me, I’m headed to bed,” Dominic said. “This has been a great trip and all, but it’s been a long, abusive day. I’m not up for getting slapped—or pretend slapped—repeatedly.”
I sighed. “I can’t hit you. You might as well go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ty lifted his camera. “No slap?”
“I guess not,” I grumbled. “Any chance I could convince you to delete the other picture?”
“Not for only ten American dollars.” Ty grinned, revealing a row of perfect, gleaming white teeth. “You cannot afford to pay me what I’ll get for selling this picture to your tabloid newspapers.”
* * *
All night, I tossed and turned, trying to come up with any way to convince Ty not to sell the picture. Throwing his camera overboard seemed the most obvious option, but he wore the thing around his neck. As much as I’d wanted to throttle Dominic for kissing me, shoving the only witness into the ocean wouldn’t make me feel better.
By the time the ship docked, pink rays peeked through the window. I hadn’t slept a wink. Listening to Dominic snoring on the other side of the cramped cabin didn’t help. With a sigh, I yanked the blankets from the bed and carried them up on deck to see if moving somewhere quieter would help me sleep.
It didn’t.
People milled around the dock, talking excitedly. In the slip to our left, three men unloaded nets of fish–early catch, apparently. On the other side, a mother tried to corral her two small children into life jackets before setting sail for a family outing.
I wandered around the deck, looking for a place to sleep. A small bench beckoned to me when across the pier, I spotted the Queen Kelly. The gangway wasn’t down yet, but maybe I could get close enough to get on their wi-fi system and send a message to Justin. Grabbing my bag, I went to find our captain.
He stood on the pier, speaking to two men with their backs to me. The shorter one wore a camera bag strapped around his upper body. The other’s lanky form I knew well after being locked in a house with him for eight weeks the prior summer.
“Ed!” My fatigue evaporated. I cheered and jumped to the ground, racing to wrap my arms around my friend. “And Connor! What are you doing here?”
“Leanna sent me to pick you up,” Connor said. “She told me to tell you the cost of your transport to the ship is one exclusive interview about your romantic night with Dominic.”
“Of course it is.” I rolled my eyes.
Ed said, “She doesn’t know I came along. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
I pulled him to the side, leaving Connor and Ty to finish whatever they were talking about. In a hushed tone, I filled him in on my day and the evening. His eyes widened, his brow furrowed, then his jaw dropped.
“Oh, snap! Jen, what are you going to say to Justin?”
With a shake of my head, I said, “I have no idea. But I need to get to the ship ASAP before Ariana gets her hooks deeper into him. Especially since Ty over there won’t delete the picture. What do I do when Justin sees it? Worse, what if Ariana shows it to him before I can talk to him about it?”
Ed wrapped one arm around my shoulders, and I leaned against him. “Give the interview,” he said. “Be honest, but brief. Tell Connor your side of the story while I go wake up your ex. We can be out of here in five minutes.”
“Do we have to take him to the ship with us? Can’t we send him back to Jamaica with Ty?”
“I’m afraid that’s part of the deal. Don’t forget, he’s a paying guest. The cruise line won’t let us ditch him. However, Connor and I will do whatever we can to keep him away from the ship until you find Justin.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” I pulled him close for a moment, happy to have someone on my side.
“Butterscotch,” Ed agreed, winking at me. “And you’re as refreshingly adorbs as a Chiclet.”
He headed over to where Ty and Connor stood, leaving me wondering what the heck to say in my interview. And how to fix my hair. A moment later, Connor approached, camera in hand.
“Do you by any chance have a mirror?” I asked.
“You couldn’t get one from Ed?”
“Forgot to ask. How bad do I look?”
Connor took in my appearance before shrugging. “You never know. Maybe looking like you escaped from a rabid bear attack on a frat party will garner some sympathy with the viewers.”
“Ugh. Ok, fine. Let’s get this done so I can get to Justin.”
Ed returned and handed me a mirror. “Here.”
“Did you hear me all the way over there?”
“No, I saw you,” he said. I stuck my tongue out at him, but took the mirror. “Dominic will be here in a minute.”
The damage was worse than I feared. My hair stuck out in about seventeen different directions. A full day in the sun with only SPF 30 turned my face and neck the color of a ripe strawberry. No wonder every inch of my body hurt. Black circles rimmed my eyes, and a steak of mascara trailed down to my chin.
Sighing, I licked my middle finger and tried to at least erase some of the excess makeup. It didn’t help much. “Whatever. Let’s do this.”
Connor directed me to the edge of the pier, with the water as a backdrop. He lifted the camera, and Ed stepped behind him, out of the view.
“Justin and I planned to spend the day on the beach, horseback riding and touring Jamaica with Danielle, from Suddenly Single in Seattle.” I spoke directly into the camera. Nothing to hide here, America.
“That’s your boyfriend’s ex-wife, yes?”
“Danielle is my ex-boyfriend’s ex-wife,” I said, well aware that all interview responses needed to include the question for the sake of the viewers. “I don’t know what happened, but when they called roll aboard the catamaran carrying us to the mainland, Dominic appeared instead of Danielle. The passenger list only showed first initials and last names. No one but me knew something went wrong.”
I intentionally didn’t mention Ariana’s role in the mix-up. My last stint on television taught me the futility of trying to make her look bad when I didn’t have any proof. Or, actually, even when I did. Even though we weren’t competing for a $250,000 prize this time, I didn’t feel any inclination to help her gain fans. Or to make myself look like a jealous jerk. The more people who walked away from this show with a high opinion of me, especially in the Miami area, the better for me and Sweet Reality. I didn’t have the luxury of forgetting that my actions didn’t only affect me anymore.
As briefly as I could, I outlined the prior day’s events, careful to make getting left behind seem like a perfectly understandable glitch that could’ve happened to anyone. Blaming Dominic for the missed connection wouldn’t win me any favor with the fans, either. I wished I could afford to not care what America thought of me. All that mattered was what my boyfriend thought, and I needed to get to him to explain my disappearance.
“One more question,” Connor said when I finished with my boarding the Boaty McBoatface. His face was inscrutable, but I’d spent enough time on these shows to guess what he wanted to know. “I don’t want to ask, but I’ll get fired if I don’t. Take as long as you need to think before you answer. Did you and Dominic kiss? Are the two of you getting back together?”
My face grew warm. Behind Connor, Ed mimed throttling him, but it wasn’t his fault. He’d done a lot to help me so far, but I couldn’t ask him to risk his job by intentionally botching the interview. And why bother? As soon as we got to the ship, if he didn’t have the answer on tape, one of the other forty or so PAs walking around would be happy to ask.
“Yes, Dominic kissed me last night,” I said. “I did not kiss him. I pushed him away and slapped h
im. The only person I ever want to kiss again is Justin. Can we go now so I can find him?”
“Jen, when you say the only person you want to kiss again is Justin, do you mean forever? Are you talking about the M-word here?”
A vision of myself walking down the aisle in a white gown flashed before my eyes. Justin stood at the end, with Sarah on one side and Ed on the other. Brandon walked ahead of me, the man of honor. I imagined Justin putting a band on my finger and promising to love me forever. In my vision, he leaned forward and kissed me sweetly while all our friends and family clapped. Then I felt my throat closing up, saw myself choking on the ring, spitting into the sink. And I remembered that Justin hadn’t even hinted at any type of future since we got on the ship. What if he changed his mind?
My cheeks grew warm, and I looked at the ground before answering. “Marriage is a big step.” But I couldn’t get what had to be a ridiculous-looking smile off my face. “But, sometimes I think marrying Justin would be the best thing that ever happened to me. I love him.”
“Beautiful,” Connor said, dropping the camera. “If nothing else convinces him, the look on your face when I asked about marriage should tell him how you feel.”
Gratefully, I kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much for that.”
A golf cart carried the four of us across the docks. Ed gave me the front seat next to Connor. In the back, he kept up a steady stream of banter that probably would’ve been funny under other circumstances. Instead of listening, I stared out the side of the vehicle, chewing on my lower lip and wondering where everything went wrong. What had Justin done while I was gone? Did he spend the day with Ariana? Was he furious with me for not returning to the ship immediately? He’d never answered a single one of my texts, but I didn’t know if his phone was on and working. We hadn’t used the messaging app all week. Maybe he hadn’t seen any of my messages.
When we got to the ship, I alighted from the cart practically before it stopped moving. Dominic stepped out behind me, but Ed called him over for an interview. Good ol’ Ed. I raced for the gangway, phone already in hand. Battery dead. I couldn’t text Justin until I got to my room to plug the stupid thing in, and but I didn’t want any delays before I got to his cabin.
Instead of waiting for the elevator, I raced up the stairs to our deck. On the fourth floor, one of my flip-flops tore, making me stumble. My toe came off the sandal, banging against the step. I yelped.
For a second, I paused to look at the damage. The thin piece of plastic once separating my toes now dangled uselessly above the foam bottom. Stupid two-dollar shoes. How dare they not be sturdy?
Not willing to let poor craftsmanship slow me down, I yanked the other flip-flop off my foot and kept running. I didn’t slow until I got to Justin’s door. Panting, I rapped on the door once, twice. Then again. What if Dominic somehow beat me here? Maybe he took another staircase or found an empty elevator. My heart pounded in my chest. Glancing up and down the hall, I knocked again, louder.
Finally, the door swung open, and the remaining breath whooshed out of me. Before me stood Ariana.
In Justin’s room. Wearing a fluffy, white bathrobe.
Chapter 15
Inside the Guppy Gabber, Thursday:
Jen, 8:00 AM: I’m sorry, but I can’t right now. Nope. Sorry.
Tammy Rae: What? Of course my secret ingredient isn’t marijuana! I haven’t done drugs during this century. My secret ingredient is completely natural and totally organic, but not, like, illegal.
Justin: Jen’s back on the ship? Where?
Dominic: Bro, she totally dug that kiss. I am IN. The rest of this week is going to be epic. Wait and see.
My jaw hit the floor. Ariana smirked at me, the same look I’d wanted to slap off her face a thousand times. “Can I help you?”
Stepping backward, I turned to check the names on the card by the door: Morgan, Rossellini, Silva, Taylor. Not Sassani, of course. I hadn’t actually met Mr. Morgan yet, but suffered no delusions the Network gave Ariana a fake name and stuck her in the guys’ cabin. Nor did I think it was a coincidence, finding her in my boyfriend’s room at six o’clock in the morning.
There had to be a reasonable explanation. I struggled to keep my voice even. “Is Justin here?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s in the shower. Should be out any minute.”
No. Nononononononono.
Then I heard Justin’s voice, and my blood ran cold. “Ari? Who’s there?”
Ari? So it was Ari now?
This couldn’t be happening. I’d been trapped on a boat all day with my ex-boyfriend, a camera-toting production assistant who wouldn’t talk to me while filming, and a dozen people I couldn’t talk to thanks to a language barrier. I’d been forced to sail away from my boyfriend, leaving him with my least favorite person in the world. Bad weather stopped me from getting to him. I’d been stranded, left to walk hours in the sun with my second least favorite person. Then I got stranded on an island with said SLFP, in a foreign country, without any money or my passport, and had to beg the Network’s executives to let me on the ship. The ship captain drugged me, my ex surprised me with a stupid, drooly kiss, and it got captured on camera. On top of having to deal with all that in less than twenty-four hours now this. When I’d only gotten about two hours sleep.
The double whammy of finding my archenemy in my boyfriend’s room after the worst day and night of my life was too much.
My brain balked at any type of confrontation. My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. The ability to process information, to reason, went right out of me. I forgot how to word. Couldn’t brain. No thinky.
Without uttering a single sound, I let my feet carry me to my cabin. Although part of me wanted to run, I practically crept down the hall, praying Justin would call me. That he’d chase me across just like he followed me down the driveway, apologize, and offer a reasonable explanation for everything. Then I could apologize and fall into his arms. We’d kiss, make up, and go hang out in the giant hammocks advertised by the spa up on the fourteenth deck. A wonderful end to a horrible twenty-four hours.
But it was all a fantasy, a waking dream. When I got to my cabin, I stood outside the door, leaning my forehead against it for what seemed like forever. No footsteps fell on the carpet. No voice called my name. He wasn’t coming. He stayed in his cabin with Ariana.
When I finally opened my door, ears still straining for signs of Justin behind me, the lights were out. Rachel’s soft snoring, much less intrusive than Dominic’s, filled the room. Moving as soundlessly as possible, I crawled into bed, not bothering to undress. With a pillow over my head, I let exhaustion claim me.
Sometime later, a weight landed beside me, shaking me awake. Light now streamed through the curtains.
“Jen! Where were you?” Rachel asked. “I was so worried!”
I couldn’t even. I wanted to believe there was a reasonable explanation for finding Ariana in Justin’s room, for him calling her Ari, but my brain wouldn’t work when I was this tired. With a groan, I cracked one eyelid. “I promise to tell you everything later, but I didn’t get any sleep last night. Go on without me?”
“You don’t want to go snorkeling?” Rachel asked. “Or shopping?”
We’d been planning to go shopping for jewelry. Jewelry reminded me of rings, and rings reminded me of engagements, which took me right back to Connor’s question and my perfect wedding vision. The wedding I’d never have now. Tears filled my eyes.
Once I got home and Justin told Sarah I’d cheated on him with my ex, she’d probably fire me. Even if she let me explain, even if she believed I didn’t do anything, could I handle the constant reminder of Justin and Ariana every time I turned around? But at the end of the day, I suspected Sarah would take Justin’s side. If he believed I cheated, she’d believe it, and I’d be out of a job. That’s what happened when you worked with your boyfriend’s sister.
When Justin insisted on putting the buyout clause into our contract, Sarah and I both laughed.
Why would we ever need something like that? Now I knew. Score one for the lawyer.
After banning me from the bakery, Sarah would throw me out of her apartment. I’d be where I started twenty months ago, only with the image of Ariana in a bathrobe searing my brain instead of nearly naked Danielle.
Even after the way we met, before I got to know Danielle, I never hated her. Dominic lying about his wife was a betrayal. The English language didn’t contain a word appropriate to describe Justin sleeping with Ariana behind my back. Maybe there was one in German. Like die über-heinous betrayalwurst.
When I didn’t answer, concern overtook Rachel’s face. “Are you okay? What happened?”
My face crumpled. I couldn’t answer. She sat on the bed, one hand on my shoulder, but I couldn’t accept her comfort. Not now.
“Just go,” I said.
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re going to be all right,” she said. “What kind of friend do you think I am?”
“I can’t talk about it right now,” I said. “Let me sleep. I’ll catch up with you at lunchtime. Go. Snorkel, shop. I could use some time alone.”
“What do I tell Justin when I see him at breakfast?”
She’d know the answer the second he appeared with Ariana. “Don’t tell him anything.”
A fresh wave of despair hit, and I pulled the sheet over my head. After a heavy sigh didn’t convince me to come out of my cocoon, Rachel kissed my forehead through the blanket. A moment later, the door clicked shut, leaving me alone.
All alone.
No Justin. Forever.
* * *
When I woke up again, my mind worked much better. Justin and I had been together for more than a year. He planned an entire proposal, and although I accidentally ruined it, he’d brought the ring on the trip with us. He couldn’t be planning to walk away from everything we’d been through now. There had to be some kind of explanation for what I’d seen.
Sweet Reality Page 15