Sweet Reality by Laura Heffernan (3)

 

Welcome to Reality Cruises!

 

 

Today, we set sail from the beautiful port of Miami, Florida, on a ship packed with America’s favorite reality stars from shows such as The Fishbowl, America’s Next Drag Supermodel, Deaf Teen Mother, The Marrying Kind, and more. Settle in, unpack, and enjoy a beverage atop one of our glorious lookout decks as we move away from Florida into the vast wide ocean. After dinner, you’ll have the opportunity to attend meet-and-greets and Q&A sessions with the stars, watch a movie from the comfort of our outdoor hot tubs, attend a comedy show, and more. The casino opens at 5:00 PM.

 

Tomorrow, enjoy a full day at sea. The buffet’s open 24 hours, as are the cafes throughout the Lido Deck. Get to know the people you’ve seen on TV. Attend our Reality Star Bake-off, where former contestants fight for bragging rights over the best baked goods at sea. Contact Leanna before 8:00 PM Sunday if you’re interested in participating or judging.

 

On Tuesday, we’ll arrive in the Bahamas. Reality stars and civilians alike will have from 7:00 AM–5:00 PM to explore the island. Check out various excursions like zip-lining, snorkeling, kayaking, and more! Those of you with scuba certifications can rent gear onboard, and someone will meet you at the disembarkation point. Wednesday’s itinerary involves a stop in Ocho Rios, Jamaica. There’s something for everyone on this island, from rich local culture to water sports to gorgeous sightseeing to magnificent excursions.

 

After leaving Jamaica, we’ll sail directly to Grand Cayman in the Cayman Islands. Tour the Tortuga Rum Factory and get samples of some of the highest quality rum in the world. Not a drinker? No problem. Grand Cayman also offers snorkeling, swimming with stingrays, and more!

 

On Friday, the Queen Kelly arrives in Cozumel, Mexico. Tour ancient ruins on horseback, enjoy deep discounts at our shopping area, or kick back and enjoy tacos and margaritas under the sun.

 

Enjoy another activity-filled day at sea on Saturday before the ship returns to Miami. We’ll be docking at midnight to allow you to make the most of your last day onboard. Keep an eye out for daily schedules with more information.

 

Full schedule of Sunday’s events 2

Map of the ship 4-5

Meet the Stars 3, 6

The Cruise Messenger App 7

 

 

Four days later, Sarah delivered me and Justin to the docks for our trip. Between Justin’s parents’ needs, his work schedule, and the time Sarah and I’d spent working on new recipes, I’d barely seen my boyfriend since the disaster at the bakery. I didn’t know if Sarah returned the ring, if Justin brought it with him on the cruise, or if he’d prefer to wait and propose when we weren’t on camera. It wasn’t like I could ask him. Instead, I tried to push it out of my mind and focus on enjoying our trip. And getting Tammy Rae’s secret recipe.

We barely stepped onto the curb separating the boarding area from the parking lot when a barrel of energy slammed into me.

“Jen!”

“Ed!” Finding my footing, I threw my arms around The Fishbowl ’s runner-up and my good friend, Eduardo Silva. He grinned down at me unabashedly. From his lean, muscular frame to his longish dark hair and warm brown eyes always gleaming with mischief, Ed melted hearts all over America during our summer on television. And pretty much anywhere he went.

He greeted Justin briefly before turning to me. “It’s marvelous to see you. How the hell have you two been? Can you believe this monstrosity?”

The ship towered above us, nearly as long as an entire city block and casting about a mile of shade over Miami’s docks. At least ten rows of windows stretched upward from the ground to the upper decks. To my left, rows of balconies hung off the rear of the ship. The front extended beyond the edges of my peripheral vision. Strains of music reached my ears, so high above us we couldn’t make out anything but the faintest melody. The brochure told me to expect outdoor activities on the upper decks, including three pools and a water slide, but I couldn’t crane my neck far enough to see the top. We could spend the entire week exploring.

How did something so enormous float? It must weigh a million tons.

On either side of us, thousands of people streamed up gangways onto the ship. Before us, a third gangway led into the belly of the beast. Er, led into the ship waiting to take me, Justin, our friends, and a bunch of former reality stars on a fabulous vacation.

“How many levels does this thing have?” I asked.

Sounding like a page from the brochure we’d spent hours poring over when we first got the call, Justin responded. “Fifteen. Seven or eight floors of cabins, two floors of shopping in the middle levels, a casino, a gym, a running track, a miniature golf course, and the kids’ area for families. The Lido Deck has two buffets—”

“There’s a Lido Deck? Like on The Love Boat?”

“All cruise ships have a Lido Deck,” Ed replied. “That’s where the entertainment is. On this ship, there’s a twenty-four-hour pizza place, a deli, and the pools, plus some other stuff.”

“Okay, we get it. It’s bloody amazing,” Sarah grumbled. “Rub it in, why don’t you? This will be the most awesome vacation adventure ever, and I don’t get to come with you.”

“You could’ve come,” Justin said. “As long as you paid for it.”

“Right. Let me dig into my buckets of cash.” Sarah rolled her eyes at him. “It’s fine. I’ve got plenty to do at the bakery before our grand opening. I need to make Patty’s Cakes regret ever setting up shop across from us.”

“Don’t be too sad you’re not coming,” Ed said. “Hiking all over the ship will be the most exhausting ‘vacation’ I’ve ever been on. I’m going to need to hit the spa every day for a foot massage.”

Sarah rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. “Hear this? World’s smallest violin playing a sad song for you.”

Laughing, Ed pulled her into a hug. “Good to see you, too. I wish you could come with.”

“Me, too!” I said, joining in.

Sarah kissed both our cheeks before pulling away and handed me a small, clear plastic container. “You’re the best, both of you. I gotta go before they tow my car. Love you all, I’ll see you next Sunday. Bring me alcohol, and try not to get into any trouble. Especially you, Ed.”

He winked at her, and Justin pulled her aside, supposedly to talk about their mother for a minute before dropping our suitcases with the porter. I suspected he had another reason for this conversation, which made me grin far more than I should at the prospect of having my luggage checked.

This excitement would not be contained. Nearly two years ago, I’d been so sure my ex-boyfriend planned to propose right before I found out he was married. I’d been excited then, but the thought of spending my life with him never sounded as perfect as marrying Justin. He was my other half, the absolute best partner for me.

Sarah winked at me over his shoulder, her way of telling me she’d slipped him the ring. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, wishing I could share my excitement with someone, but got distracted by the massive ocean liner casting shadows over the dock. More specifically, by the lifeboats.

Eyeing the orange rubber vessels lining the sides, I turned to Ed. “Do you think they brought enough lifeboats?”

“Yes. Also, this isn’t the Titanic. We’re not gonna sink. We have communications devices to call for help. And you, Jen, have your very own hunky stud in Justin to save you if anything goes wrong. Relax. Take your Dramamine.”

I rooted around in my carry-on for a moment before giving up. “My Dramamine must be in my big suitcase . . . which I probably shouldn’t have given to him to check. At least not without putting this Tupperware in first. The carry-on is about to burst.”

Ed gestured at the container Sarah handed me before leaving. “What’s that for?”

“So I can bring her one of Tammy Rae’s cupcakes. They’re doing a tasting after the bake-off tomorrow, remember?”

One of the onboard events pitted reality stars against each other in a baking competition, which Ed apparently forgot having agreed to. Hopefully, he wasn’t going to wing it. My friend created excellent meals for everyone while we were in the Fishbowl, but his laissez-faire attitude to cooking wouldn’t produce the same delicious results in baked goods.

Instead of competing against Ed, I signed up to judge with Justin. Partially as a way of getting on Tammy Rae’s good side, and partially because rumors said everyone involved got to sample her winning cupcakes after the event. I needed to be in the right place to snag one. Well, two. One for me, one for Sarah. Then I could verify whether these things tasted as good as the inter-webs claimed and butter Tammy Rae up by raving about what a baking genius she was before begging for a favor.

Where was Tammy Rae? Hopefully she hadn’t changed her mind and canceled at the last minute. According to E-Entertainment News Online, she’d mysteriously pulled out of Celebrity Poker Match a few years back, despite being a favorite to win. I scanned the docks, looking for her.

With luck, the recipe would be in my hand and I’d be lounging by the pool before the ship arrived in our first port. But one thing at a time. First, Justin and I needed to thoroughly explore and “enjoy” our cabin. Our glorious private cabin where we wouldn’t have to worry about my boyfriend’s sister or his somewhat creepy roommate hearing us through the paper-thin walls of our respective apartments. Or at least we wouldn’t know the people on the other side of our walls, so it wouldn’t matter what they heard.

Ed’s voice called me away from those thoughts, back to our conversation.

“What?” I asked.

“I said, calm down. Justin will be back soon, Tammy Rae will arrive before the ship leaves, and your suitcase, with Dramamine, will be delivered to your cabin sooner rather than later.”

“Why didn’t I take seasick pills before leaving home?” I moaned. “Why am I doing this?”

“You mean, freaking out over nothing? I couldn’t tell you.” Ed hugged me. “Really, Jen, you’ll be fine. I’ve cruised before. You won’t feel a thing.”

Finally, Justin walked toward us, sans luggage. I found myself relaxing as he put an arm around my waist and squeezed. I kissed him.

“Ugh. Lovebirds!” Ed moaned. “Get a room!”

“Hey, Ed, isn’t your boyfriend around here?” Justin asked good-naturedly. “Why don’t you go find him?”

Ed met his boyfriend Connor, formerly known to me only as Curly Beard, while filming The Fishbowl. Although the Network strictly prohibited staff from socializing with the contestants, they still found a way to make a connection. More importantly, they’d managed to keep it going ever since. The Network promoted Connor from production assistant to camera operator, and Ed recently moved from Boston to Los Angeles to be with him while pursuing a stand-up comedy career. I couldn’t have been happier for them.

“He’s doing some pre-boarding filming. I’m not allowed,” he said to Justin. “Besides, someone had to keep your belle here from having a panic attack. Did you know she gets seasick?”

Justin tilted his head at me the way he did when he didn’t want to say he thought I wasn’t being one hundred percent truthful. “You never mentioned that. You do?”

“I don’t know. When I was in high school, I threw up on the swan boats at the local fair.”

“Wasn’t that right after you bought tacos out of some guy’s van? Because I’m not sure that was the boat’s fault.”

This was the problem with dating someone long enough for them to hear all your stories. “Maybe . . .”

“You’ll be fine!” Ed said. “Now, let’s go before they take off without us.”

“Depart,” I said. “Or set sail.”

“Whatever.” Ed took off for the ship, luggage in tow.

“What’s really wrong?” Justin asked.

He gazed into my eyes until I realized I’d been freaking out over nothing. “I don’t know. I’ve been on edge all week. Partially it’s the bakery. What if Sarah can’t come up with new recipes? What if Tammy Rae hates me?”

“You are a resourceful, brilliant woman. You can be very persuasive. Plus, Sarah’s a genius in the kitchen. Even if Tammy Rae says no, the two of you will come up with something.”

I sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m being stupid. I don’t know why I’m so jittery.”

Behind me, someone walked by wearing a t-shirt showing a woman with long, dark hair, pouting out from the inside of a clear fishbowl. And suddenly, I realized exactly why I felt so on edge: Ariana. The one person who could always make me act like my brain took a vacation without my body. No one confirmed whether she’d be onboard. I couldn’t relax until we set sail without her.

Justin followed my gaze, and understanding flashed across his face. Instead of commenting, he squeezed my hand and gestured grandly toward the ship. “Shall we?”

We rolled our carry-ons through the special check-in point reserved for VIPs. After presenting ID and going through the metal detectors, Justin and I headed up the gangway. My head swiveled to catch every speck of activity. To our right, I spotted one of the stars of The Marrying Kind, a popular dating show. When I turned to talk to Justin, over his shoulder, I spotted Tabby Rangoon, winner of last year’s America’s Next Drag Supermodel. I’d missed her season while locked in the Fishbowl, but many people had been excited to see a forty something queen beat out all the twenty-year-olds vying for the crown.

The interior of the ship was more extravagant than any hotel I’d ever visited, with marble floors in the entrance, gold paneling on the stairs, and huge glass elevators giving us a view of everything on the way up. Colored lights alternated on and off, flooding the entryway with dancing pink, blue, and purple beams. As the elevator traveled upward, I spotted a coffee shop, the purser’s desk, a row of designer shops in the background, and a sign advertising a live show in the theater later.

“Is that a real casino? I thought Ed was joking.” I pointed through the window at the edges of a neon sign.

Justin consulted a sheaf of papers in his hand. “It is. There’s a casino on the fifth floor, nightclubs on the sixth and twelfth, and a five-star restaurant overlooking the ocean on the fifteenth. They serve romantic dinners, by reservation only. We should go there one night.”

For the zillionth time, I thought about how lucky I was to find this guy. Popping onto my toes, I leaned in for a quick kiss. “That sounds amazing.”

The elevator dinged to a stop, and we exited on the ninth floor. My feet sank into the plush carpet filling the room. No dancing lights here, thankfully, but the public areas of the ship gave me visions of the most lavish room I’d ever stayed in. Even nicer than the place my ex-boyfriend took me for my birthday a few weeks before I found out about his wife.

Consulting the packet holding my keycard and ship map, I headed to the right. Justin called me back before I moved three steps.

“Where are you going?”

Pointing at the sign, I said, “Room E622 is this way.”

“I’m sure it is, but Room E615 is over here.”

“What’s in Room E615?”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not. We’re in Room E622.” At Justin’s expression, the suitcase clattered out of my hand onto the faux marble floor. “Wait, what? We’re not in the same room?”

We met in the center of the hallway to compare notes. Since we were a couple who met on The Fishbowl, and the Network paid for the cruise, we assumed we’d share a cabin. Neither of us thought to compare our room assignments.

Disappointment flooded me. “How can we not be sharing? Are we each stuck in single rooms? Can we share a twin bed?”

He shook his head. “Somehow, I doubt it. If so, there would be no reason for us not to share.”

“No sex for a week?” I didn’t try to hide my disappointment. Especially since the only night we’d spent together the past few days, Justin fell asleep while Sarah and I worked in the kitchen past midnight. I’d expected to make up for lost time on this cruise. All week long.

“That’s not possible.” He looked like he’d just been told we only had a week to live. “They wouldn’t do that to us. Would they?”

“They probably would,” I said glumly. After being constantly locked out of my college dorm room by a roommate who thoroughly embraced the hookup—and waking up more than once in the middle of the night to a show—I couldn’t kick my roommate out of our cabin. Justin and I would have to find another solution.

“Well, if they do, we can always sneak off to a janitor’s closet or something. They probably don’t have any doors that lock you in after sixty seconds onboard, right?”

I laughed at the reminder of the changing rooms in the Fishbowl. One of the first nights on the set, my friend Rachel snuck in there with another competitor, and they got stuck. It took over an hour for the producers to let them out. “All we need is an empty cabin. Maybe Ed can sweet talk Connor into helping us come up with something.”

“You think if there’s a secret sex area, they’re not going to hog it?”

Damn. He had a point.

I said, “Ok, fine. I hear there are giant hammocks in the spa area. Ever have sex in a hammock?”

“Not in front of thousands of people. Besides, we’d probably fall out.” Justin shook his head. “This has to be a mistake. I’ll go down to main level and talk to the producers.”

“What if they did it on purpose?”

“Then we’ll find another way to steal some time alone. We’re not going to spend a week on a cruise ship completely apart. Anyway, how much time would we have spent in the cabin, with so much ship to explore? We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.” With a sigh, I kissed him and turned down the hall.

Alone and significantly less excited than I’d been a few minutes earlier, I continued to my room, eyes following the patterned carpet. When I reached my cabin, the door stood cracked, so I nudged it open with my hip and called into the interior. After a moment, a familiar voice responded, and my spirits lifted a tiny bit.

“Hel-loooo?”

“Rachel?” I barreled into the room, jumping into a tackle hug. We hadn’t gotten off to the best start in The Fishbowl, but as the show progressed, the Midwestern cheerleader became a good friend and one of my most respected competitors. “Rachel! It’s so good to see you!”

“Hello, roomie! How are you?”

With her dancing brown eyes and shoulder-length wavy blond hair, Rachel looked exactly the same as I remembered. Her tan hadn’t even faded over the winter, leading me to strongly suspect she’d gotten it from a bottle. If only I’d thought of that. By the end of this week, I’d either still be ghostly white or turn eggplant purple. My fair skin knew no in-between shades. It even bypassed the normal reds usually associated with sunburns.

“Don’t think I’m not glad you’re here, but I’m bummed not to be sharing a room with Justin. Do you know what happened?”

“The Network split us all into single-gender rooms to avoid hanky-panky.”

“Hanky-panky?”

She blushed. “That’s what my grammy used to say, and I’m sticking with it. Anyway, they don’t want us hanging out in our cabins too much, so we’re stuck sharing. Tiny spaces, same-sex roommates.”

Until she mentioned it, I hadn’t paid much attention to the size of the cabin. Behind her, two sets of bunkbeds dominated a room about the size of my bedroom at home. Twin bunkbeds, naturally. Lovely. Any remaining dreams for a romantic getaway cruise with my boyfriend skidded to a halt.

Heavy curtains along the starboard wall suggested a much larger window than the one-foot porthole ensconced in the far wall. A flat screen TV hung in one corner over a mini-fridge, across from a wooden chair and built-in desk. The room service menu, cruise newsletter, and telephone took up the entire surface.

“It’s small, but cozy. We’ll be fine. Except for the part where I should be sharing with Justin.” I wrinkled my nose at her. “Ugh. Any idea who else we’re sharing with?”

She shrugged. “Ed said it should be no more than two people from each show per room, so you lucked out with me. If Ariana’s onboard, she should be sleeping elsewhere.”

“Have you seen her yet?”

“Nope. And no word if she’s coming. Ed didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I asked him, too. Even offered to bring Connor cookies if he’d tell me, so I know they weren’t holding out on me.”

Rachel glanced at her wrist, one of the few people under fifty who still wore a watch. Of course, hers tracked steps, monitored heart rate, and streamed music, so it wasn’t exactly my grandmother’s timepiece. “I’m going up to the deck to watch the ship cast off. I’ll meet you here when it’s time to meet at the muster stations.”

“The mustard stations?”

“No, silly.” Her tinkling laughter never failed to make me smile. “Muster stations are where we learn what to do in the event of an emergency. Like an evacuation station. But don’t worry. The boat’s not going to sink or anything.”

Again, I envisioned Leo and Kate floating on a wooden door among the wreckage of the Titanic. Unsinkable, my ass. Of course, if Justin and I found ourselves in the same situation, I knew to secure my life jacket and make room. Thank you, Mythbusters.

Before I responded to Rachel, my phone buzzed with a text from Justin confirming that the cabin assignments weren’t a mix-up. I texted back, promising to meet him at the muster station in about half an hour, after I unpacked and gave my first confessional interview. Rachel left me alone to unpack. Her clothes already took up more than half the closet, so hopefully whoever our other two roommates were, at least one of them was a nudist. Had the cast of Terrified in the Jungle been invited?

A few minutes later, I navigated my way down the halls to the elevators, scanning for familiar faces among the crowd and seeking out the nearest emergency exits.

When I reached the hallway housing the elevator bank, I stopped dead in my tracks. She stood in front of me. The last person I wanted to run into, here or anywhere else.

Ariana. Even more impossibly thin than the day I left the Fishbowl, somehow looking taller, every bit as beautiful, and probably with a voodoo doll of me stashed in her suitcase. After the way she’d lied and schemed to get me off The Fishbowl so she could steal Justin, not any part of me was remotely happy to find her here on the ship. As long as no one confirmed her presence on the cruise, I’d stupidly allowed myself to believe she decided not to come. On a free Caribbean cruise.

She stood regally as ever, with her shoulders back and her nose in the air. Silky black hair streamed down her back. She crossed her arms over her enormous fake breasts, glaring at the elevators as if their slow arrival were a personal insult.

Into her phone, she spoke very slowly, as if explaining something to a three-year-old. “Is everyone who works there an idiot? Let me talk to your supervisor. I can’t possibly spend a week on vacation with only a five-thousand-dollar limit on my debit card.”

I snorted at the thought of not being able to exist on “only” five grand a day, when food and shelter was covered. Unfortunately, the sound drew her attention to me. She sneered.

Of all the times to run into her, I wished I hadn’t been alone. If Justin stood beside me, he’d squeeze my hand reassuringly and say something like, “Hey, it’s okay. You won, remember? You can’t avoid her all week, so you might as well be polite.”

Ugh. I hated when he was right. Or, I mean, when I was right, talking to myself.

At least no one around witnessed this first encounter with my nemesis. Maybe. I peeked at the corners of the ceiling, searching for cameras. A vase on a table by the wall could have concealed a camera, but there was no non-obvious way to check. The mirror above the vase could have been two-way, but since it appeared to be older than me, I doubted it.

The Network had been vague about what type of show we signed up for. Justin and I got all excited about a romantic getaway and a free cruise and didn’t push for answers. The forms we signed involved waiving a lot of rights, but very little facts about what we were getting into. That wasn’t a huge surprise. Before going on The Fishbowl, I’d known only that it was a competition-based reality show offering a cash prize. No one mentioned a prize or a competition when soliciting us for this show.

The producers promised to explain everything else in a meeting after embarkation. It didn’t escape my notice that we couldn’t quit after finding out what we’d agreed to, but whatever. Life’s full of surprises, right?

Justin and I figured, after our last experience, we could handle whatever the Network threw at us, but as soon as I spotted Ariana, butterflies beat out a symphony in my belly.

I could do this. Be the bigger person, Jen.

“Hello, Ariana,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound completely appalled.

“We’ll discuss this later,” she said into the phone, waiting exactly long enough before greeting me to make me fidget. Her brown eyes narrowed to slits before she spoke. “Jen.”

Once I got over the disappointment of running into Ariana, I spotted a stroller parked about a foot away from her. A rainbow-colored teddy bear peeked out of a pocket on the back. No one else stood near enough to be keeping an eye on the infant. Before I could ask, the elevator dinged, and Justin appeared in the open doors. My shoulders straightened immediately when he walked to my side and kissed me before acknowledging her. Take that, Ariana!

“Hi, Ariana,” he said. “Nice to see you again. And you brought a baby?”

She beamed up at him. “Why yes, I did! Would you like to meet my son?”

Both of us blinked at her. She hadn’t been pregnant when we were on The Fishbowl. At least not judging from her concave stomach, skintight clothing, and daily alcohol intake. How did she get pregnant, give birth, and return to her usual size-two self in only sixteen months? Without anyone in the media catching on?

She laughed, a piercing sound I’d convinced myself annoyed me more in memory than real life. Wrong. “Naturally, I named him after his father. I’d like you both to meet my son, Justin Jr.”