Sweet Reality by Laura Heffernan (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.

Picking up my phone, I sent Justin a message, keeping it casual.

His first response made me smile.

Maybe there was a reasonable explanation for what I saw. Maybe everything would be okay.

However, the second text crushed my budding optimism.

“We need to talk.” The worst four words in the English language. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me and Justin. We were solid. This wasn’t like Dominic—Justin and I had a foundation, a history, a life together. But for some reason, he’d decided to throw it all away for a woman who’d done nothing but ruin my life.

He didn’t come looking for me in the morning to see if I’d gotten back to the ship. Why didn’t he come to the smaller boat with Ed and Connor? Had he noticed I was gone, or were he and Ari having too much fun onboard to notice I stayed in Jamaica? Surely Ed would have told him I’d been found and they were leaving to pick me up. So what happened?

With a growl, I hurled my phone at the window. It connected with a satisfying clack before thudding onto the carpet.

Things didn’t look much brighter when I woke up the second time. As if the universe understood my mood, black clouds blotted out the light through the window. Great. No need to go sightseeing.

Except Rachel would probably appear and drag me down the gangway if I didn’t make an appearance for lunch. Grumbling to myself, I rolled over and grabbed my phone. Still dead. In my shock at finding another woman in my boyfriend’s bedroom—again—I hadn’t thought to plug it in before crawling into bed to hide.

Why did this keep happening to me? Was there something fundamentally wrong with me as a girlfriend? Did I lack the ability to please men? Or were they genetically programmed to lose interest after a certain amount of time?

The clock on the television told me it was ten after noon, ship time. That meant people roaming outdoors on Cayman Islands time would want to eat in less than an hour. As much as I didn’t want to get up, hiding in the room wouldn’t make me feel any better. And I still needed to find Danielle and ask her what happened. Part of me wanted to believe she was the snake I originally thought and that she colluded with Dominic to give him a day alone with me, but the theory didn’t gel with the woman who’d become my friend. I didn’t want to believe I’d been so wrong about her. Or about Justin.

Maybe I should’ve stayed in Jamaica. Or maybe I could stay here, avoid having to watch Ariana gloat all over Justin for the next two days. If only I’d paid to upgrade us to a suite on the first day, I could hide out alone. Except Justin and Ariana would probably be in there together. Sigh.

With a jolt, I realized I did know someone who had a suite—and she didn’t like Ariana or Dominic any more than I did. Maybe Danielle would let me crash on her couch until we got to Miami. No idea what I’d do after that, but at least I could avoid all former Fishbowl cast members and ex-boyfriends until we docked.

Although drinking myself into oblivion until I’d forever blotted the image of Ariana in a bathrobe out of my memory appealed to me, the last thing I wanted to do was tour a rum factory. Unfortunately, Tammy Rae planned to be there. We still needed to establish camaraderie. Getting her stupid secret ingredient might be the only way to save this trip from being an utter disaster. Even if I couldn’t use it once Sarah exercised the buyout option in our contract, maybe I could wave it in front of me like some kind of peace offering.

Having a ghost of a plan made me feel a scintilla better. Now I needed to get up and face the day. Before dragging myself into the shower, I found my phone charger so I could message Danielle once I got out.

Dominic’s words ran through my head on repeat. Had Danielle been playing me this whole time? Pretended to be my friend just to screw me over? Even though my obligation to Sarah meant I should beeline for Tammy Rae the second I left the cabin, I couldn’t think straight before finding Danielle and having a chat.

The cruise line’s messaging system only worked while people were connected to the ship’s wi-fi, so I prayed while sending her a quick message to ask where she was.

After a day of horseback riding, swimming, and boating in the sun, followed by virtually no sleep and wind-swept hair, hot water turned out to be the best thing since Betty White (way better than sliced bread). As droplets sluiced down my body, a flood of tears followed. My shoulders shook, and my knees buckled, sending me sliding down to the wet floor. When the water turned cold, I finally pulled myself up, blew my nose, and gave myself another mental pep talk to go out and face the world.

My phone, sitting on the tiny bathroom sink, contained three messages I hadn’t heard arrive. Thankfully, all from Danielle.

She still could be lying. But my gut told me to talk to her before trusting the word of a proven liar, especially one in cahoots with another proven liar. There had to be some reasonable explanation for why Dominic took her place on the excursion.

I sent a quick reply.

Not bothering to dry my hair, I ran a comb through it, grabbed a random item out of the closet, and slipped my feet into the first two shoes I found. The blue and green patterned sundress might have been Rachel’s, but it didn’t matter.

My stomach howled on the walk up the stairs, reminding me I’d missed breakfast and eaten very little the night before after a long day of physical exertion. Not wanting to go off on Danielle because I was hungry, I swung by the buffet for a cup of coffee and a cupcake before confronting her.

The tiny vanilla cake felt like a brick in my hand. Even without biting into it, I knew it wouldn’t be as good as Sarah’s. Just the reminder of our shop—and Justin—made me queasy. When I found Danielle, I let it plop onto the table and fell into the chair.

“You look like shit,” she greeted me. Naturally, she looked as gorgeous as ever, in an emerald green halter top and white capris. How did people wear white pants? If I even thought about wearing white on my lower half, I’d immediately start my period while falling into a mud puddle and spilling coffee in my lap. But Danielle looked amazing, her red hair held off her face by giant sunglasses perched atop her head, and her wide eyes full of concern.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Rough night.”

“So I heard. That can’t be your breakfast. Here.” She picked up a plate off her tray, covered with scrambled eggs and bacon and scones. “I got this for you.”

My stomach emitted a sound like a dying whale, but no way was I accepting food from the person who’d conspire to stick me with Dominic for the entire day. I pushed the plate away and gulped my coffee instead.

“What happened to you?” I asked. “Why weren’t you on the boat to the mainland?”

“Ugh.” She wrinkled her nose and grabbed a slice of bacon off the plate she’d handed me. “I feel awful about that. Monday night, I went to the club after dinner. I was drinking and dancing and . . . next thing I knew, I woke up on Tuesday with a mariachi band playing inside my skull. The excursion completely slipped my mind.”

“That’s it? You got drunk and forgot about me?” For some reason, that hurt almost as much as if she’d intentionally betrayed me.

“I didn’t think I drank very much,” she said. “The drinks on this ship are weak, you know? Mostly water. So after I woke up again, feeling like I’d been hit by a dumpster, I went to the club and asked some questions.”

She gestured to the man who’d been busing the tables around us since before I sat down. He approached with a big smile and a name tag identifying him as Julio from Mixco, Guatemala. They spoke in Spanish for a moment while I wished I’d spent more time listening to the Rosetta Stone CDs Justin bought me for Christmas.

Finally, Julio turned to me and introduced himself. “I work at the nightclub on Monday evening. I served Ms. Danielle here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am. She only ordered two drinks.” He held his finger up in a vee. “But this other man, he paid me hundred-dollar tip to keep her glass full. I brought her many drinks throughout the night. Ms. Danielle was dancing, she didn’t notice.”

My spidey senses tingled. “How many?”

He shrugged. “Nine? Ten?”

My mouth dropped. Nine or ten drinks consumed by someone Danielle’s size?

She turned to Julio. “Can you describe this man for us?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I never saw him. But I have this note?” Julio pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and offered it to me. My hand shook as I opened it.

The words didn’t matter. The writing mattered: the same scrawl I’d seen on half a dozen birthday cards, anniversary cards, and “I miss you notes” mailed while my ex-boyfriend couldn’t see me because of his “travels.”

“Dominic,” I said.

Danielle nodded and thanked Julio, who left.

“Well, shit,” I said.

She nodded a second time. My appetite returned full force, and I pulled the plate of eggs toward me.

“I’m really sorry, Jen,” she said. “I had no idea what he planned. I’m already drafting an angry email to my lawyer.”

“That doesn’t help me,” I said.

Quickly, I filled her in on our day shore side, followed by what I found in Justin’s room in the morning. By the time I finished, her eyes resembled saucers.

“There’s no way,” she said. “No way Justin slept with her. She was probably there looking for Dominic. Aren’t they sharing a cabin?”

“Then why didn’t he come after me?”

“You’ll need to ask him that,” she said. “But what are you going to do about Dominic and Ariana?”

I chewed thoughtfully before responding. “I promised Leanna a showdown in exchange for getting me back on the boat. After Tammy Rae gives me her recipe, Ariana’s going to get it.”