The captain was a no show.

The maître d’ seated Diana. “The captain asked me to offer her deepest regrets. She’s needed elsewhere.” After a quick glance to the side, he snapped his fingers to call the head waiter over to the captain’s table. “The champagne is on the captain.” Then he turned to the waiter and said, “Please keep it flowing.” He made a short bow to the guests then moved to the next table.

Diana was actually glad the captain wouldn’t be present. It would be difficult to get the staff talking, and she needed every little detail on the cruise ship if she wanted to be able to give a full report to her father when the cruise was done. They wouldn’t speak as freely if the captain were around.

Seconds after Diana was seated, Manda entered the dining room. Diana stood and waved her friend over. The vast majority of the male contingency turned to gawk as Manda rushed to her side, avoiding eye contact. Manda was, bar none, the most gorgeous redhead she’d ever met. And the girl had no idea of her attraction.

A waiter popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and offered a toast to the passengers then proceeded to take dinner orders.

The small talk they shared as they waited to be served was boring at best. An older couple, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, were celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Diana found them quaint and amusing. They were obviously not used to the finer things in life, and the overabundance of silverware for the meal downright confused them. But they didn’t care. It was all about their celebration.

“We turned the farm over to our son, and here we are. Our first official vacation since we were married in 1966.”

“You’re kidding?” Manda said.

“Well, unless you call five trips to the hospital to give birth and the time I had my gallbladder out.” Mrs. Anderson swallowed her champagne and asked for more. “I’m taking full advantage of this trip—might be the last vacation we ever get.”

Mr. Anderson guffawed. “When you’re dealing with a working farm there’s no such thing as time off.”

Diana was puzzled. George and Henrietta Anderson said they worked their entire lives, side by side, day in and day out, and yet they still looked happily married. “What’s your secret?” she asked then immediately wished she could take it back.

“What secret?” Henrietta asked, giggling as she swiped at the champagne bubbles tickling her nose.

“To staying happily married for fifty years.” The way her parents fought, if her mother hadn’t died, there was no way they’d still be together.

Henrietta gave her husband a good long look as if she were searching his face for the answer.

George scratched his bald head and snickered. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know how she puts up with me.” He took a bite of the vegetables and made a face. “Not nearly as good as yours.”

Henrietta smiled. “I guess it’s that I like him.”

“Oh, come on,” said one of the men at the table. He dropped his fork, leaned forward and asked. “Don’t you love him?”

Another man said. “It has to be more than that.”

Diana gawked, stunned at the simplistic reason she offered.

George licked his lips then looked down blushing.

“Out with it, what did we miss?” Another man said.

“Henny’s right. I like her too.”

Diana opened her mouth. Henny? What kind of pet name was that? Sounded more like a taunt about being hen-pecked than a label of love.

“It’s easy to love someone when things are going well. And it’s equally easy to blame them when things go wrong. But I truly like George. He’s the first boy I ever kissed, and the only man I ever wanted. We respect each other and have been together for fifty years now, and I still think I’m the luckiest girl on the planet. How many people can say they truly like the person they’re married to?” Henrietta wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin then folded her hands in her lap.

George took hold of one of his wife’s hands and kissed it. “I think that’s about the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.”

Diana’s gut reaction was to call her a liar, but considering every relationship she’d ever had was a failure, who was she to talk? Kids weren’t in her future because she refused to screw up a kid the way her folks did with her. Kids deserved better. Besides, she wasn’t mom material. She cast a sidelong glance at her new friend.

Manda ran the edge of her napkin along her eyes. She turned toward Diana with tears welled, making her blue eyes shimmer like the ocean.

Could it be true, that the best relationships were ones based on like rather than on love? She’d heard her friends say they married their best friend, but she assumed it was more of a metaphor. If only Diana could find someone she actually liked. What she knew of love and marriage would fit in a thimble. And based on the example of her parents, Diana was beyond jaded. When her parents would fight, she’d sarcastically remind them she was their child, not their mediator.

Once that conversation wound down and the Andersons left for an evening stroll on the deck, the rest of the men emptied out every bottle of champagne at the table, and the conversations turned a bit raunchy. The men eyed every woman in the room, daring one another to try for them.

While dinner was very nice, the men at the table were already more inebriated than Diana could handle. She despised sloppy drunks.

She leaned over to Manda. “Why don’t we go to the bar and let these knuckleheads hash it out for themselves?”

Manda shrugged. “That sounds better than sitting here feeling like I want to hide.”

Diana looped arms with Manda. “Come on. Maybe we can meet some well-behaved men at the bar.”

“I’ve never known well-behaved men to hang out in bars.” Manda shook her head.

“True.” Diana laughed. “Very true.”

They decided to hit the poolside bar, the Porthole Pub.

Drinks on the deck sounded fantastic, especially when the tropically dressed band struck up a timpani kettle drum version of an Elvis song.

Diana stepped up to the bar.

There was a devilishly handsome guy behind the counter wearing a name badge.

“Hi, Chris, how about a Martini—dry—with extra olives?” Diana said.

The bartender prepared and poured the martini then handed it to her. “And for you, miss?” The server turned to Manda and smiled.

Manda said, “Just an iced tea, please.”

“Ice tea? Come on, live a little.” Diana threw back her drink and ordered another.

“Okay, make it a glass of red wine.”

Chris smiled and whipped up the drinks and delivered them with all the joie de vivre of a person who truly loved his job.

Diana turned to Manda. “How did we both unknowingly end up on a singles cruise?”

Manda looked out over the crowd. “I have no clue. I didn’t know until my cousin called me right before you appeared with the water. I was clueless. I thought it was just a Valentine’s week cruise. I expected a lot of happy old couples to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over and be jealous of.”

“My friend was supposed to come with me, she booked the cruise and then met Nick, and well, all bets were off.” Diana stirred her drink and popped the olive in her mouth.

Manda nodded and took a sip of her wine. She frowned. “My cousin suggested I go on the cruise anyway, she said it would take my mind off Richard.”

Diana glanced around the bar. “You know what would really take your mind off him?”

Manda bit her lip as if she were afraid of the answer. “What?”

Diana moved closer to Manda. “When Viv and I were in college, we played this game called “Boyfriend for a Night.” One of our sorority sisters would set you up with a friend of theirs, and you’d have to go on one date with him. Some great stories came from that game.”

“I don’t know if I’d trust my friends to pick a date for me.” Manda paused. “But then again it couldn’t be worse than the ones I’ve been picking lately.”

“Couldn’t be that bad.” Diana shook her head.

“Wanna bet?” Manda let out a snort.

“Come on. Give it a try. What have you got to lose? What’s your idea of the perfect man, and why? How tall do you like them? Lean or muscular? Athletic or nerd? Serious or funny?

Manda shook her head. “Slow down.”

“Sorry, I forget how intense I can get. Who’s your favorite singer?”

Blushing, Manda answered, “Hunter Cross. His lyrics are enchanting. I just love his music.”

“Ah—interesting.” Little could her new friend have imagined that Hunter was a close, personal friend of hers and Viv’s younger brother; he used his mother’s maiden name for the stage. This was a no-brainer, the easiest match she ever made. And Hunter would love Manda. He had a knight in shining armor complex. “What else?” Diana kept her talking while plotting in her mind. This was going to be fun. She tuned out most of the rhetoric coming from Manda’s mouth, planning her first move.

“What about you?” Manda said. “Who is your perfect man, and what are your preferences?”

“Anything will be an improvement over the last few guys. I’ve never picked better losers. That’s what I get for trying to find men I think my father would approve of.” Diana wished she could break whatever hold it was that her father had on her. Her attempts to please him never worked, and she didn’t know why she cared.

“What does your father have to do with it?”

“Daddy has a very specific idea about the kind of man he expects me to marry. He wants to turn the company over to them when he retires. The thing is, I want to take over the company. But in his world, women don’t run empires.”

Manda chuckled. “What do you want? I mean really want in a man?”

“Don’t forget, now. This is just a game, not forever.” Diana didn’t hold out much hope for Manda’s selection. After all, how could she expect a virtual stranger to pick a man for her? Regardless of the fact that anyone pleasant would make the trip less boring.

“I know, but I don’t know you well enough to choose any guy. Give me something.” Fear puckered Manda’s lips, and she began to hyperventilate.

“Manda, relax. I’m not going to marry him. Just have fun and enjoy myself for an evening. But—” She took a deep breath. “If we’re talking about my ideal man—definitely tall. I’m five-eleven, so he has to be taller than me when I wear heels. I would love it if he had a dark complexion and was a bit on the mysterious side. Think The Phantom of the Opera minus the kidnapping. Although, Gerard Butler can kidnap me any time he wants. And last, but not least, I’ve recently discovered I like a bit of facial scruff. Nothing exaggerated, but a nice trim shadow.”

Manda fanned her face. “Whew. Sounds delicious. But what if I screw up?” Manda’s hands were shaking, and her head turned side to side as if she expected a long line of possible contenders to come parading by.

“Relax, this isn’t about Mr. Right. It’s about Mr. Right Now. And don’t forget, most likely we’ll never see any of these men again once the ship comes back into port. Just have fun with it.” Diana patted Manda’s shoulder then snapped her fingers. “I just remembered—I need to run and schedule our mani/pedi appointment for first thing in the morning. I’ll be back shortly. Park yourself here, and keep your eyes open for my prospective boyfriend. Who knows, you might just find the man of my dreams. And don’t forget. Tomorrow night is the costume ball.”

Diana slipped away before Manda could panic further. She found the cruise director to ask about the entertainment then made her way to the Promenade Deck and the Princess Theatre where Hunter and his band were supposed to be practicing for the evening’s entertainment.

She took in a deep breath, worried about whether or not her sudden burst of excitement would bite her in the ass. How many times had she turned Hunter down? Too many to count. In fact, she was afraid she’d given him a complex. There was only one way to play this—full-on Diva.

Diana threw open the doors and let her feline side out, strutting all the way down the aisle swinging her hips like she was walking a London runway.

Hunter was facing the band singing his latest hit song.

When the entire band stopped playing, he turned to see what captured their attention. He threw his head back and started laughing then trotted to the edge of the stage and jumped off as he met her on the red carpet. “Well, well—if it’s not Diana the heart breaker. Crush any hearts besides mine lately?” He dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek and threw his arm around her shoulder in a casual hug.

She whispered, “I’m on this trip as Diana Clay—for work.”

Hunter winked then nodded.

“Have I got a girl for you!”

As she said it, her eyes made contact with the man she’d mistaken for a waiter.

Hunter followed her line of vision and laughed.

What was up with Hunter, and why did the man have a glazed expression?