EMILIA
TWO DAYS LATER
We arrived at the dock five minutes early. Surprisingly, we were the first ones there.
Becca mentioned something about announcing the prize today, but honestly? I don’t care
much.
Actually, I don’t care at all.
Too much has happened these past few days. Everything’s been moving so fast, it’s hard to keep track of what matters.
At first, I hated being the face of the media on this cruise. The one who was always criticized by the media, having my life and private details on the front page.
But now, nobody on this cruise talks about the drama anyway. Probably because half of them are drowning in their own. Like, I’m not even the biggest scandal here and that’s saying something.
—
Every day, more “oops–that–wasn’t–supposed–to–leak” photos drop. Celebrities. Influencers. People with last names that sound like they should own oil fields. All getting exposed left and right.
Which raises the question – who’s leaking all this stuff? And why?
Tessa swore up and down there’d be no media onboard. So either someone lied… or someone’s playing dirty.
I’m still chewing on that thought when Irma slaps her cards down on the table with a dramatic flourish and a smirk. “I’m winning.”
I squint at my own cards like they’re in a foreign language. I don’t even know what game we’re playing.”
“You mean you don’t know how to play when Liam isn’t whispering cheat codes behind your back.”
It’s embarrassing how the mere mention of him has my cheeks heating up. Things have been pretty… weird between us and I almost kick myself every time I think about why.
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Waking up in his arms and meeting his gorgeous blue eyes and having those dimples greet me good morning every morning is enough to get a girl to run mad.
Last night, I dreamt of us in the tub again, but this time, he didn’t have his back to the tub, no I pulled him in with me and-
My cheeks are so hot it’s uncomfortable to speak, but I do my best to keep my composure.
Emilia, what the hell is wrong with you?!
I’m a woman of integrity,” I say, placing a random card down like I’m doing something
impressive.
Irma doesn’t even glance at it. She throws down her last card and leans her chin on her palm. “I win again. I’m bored now.”
Fantastic.
She eyes me like a cat sizing up a particularly slow mouse. “You know what’s worse than being bored, bärchen?”
I already don’t want to know. But I sigh. “What?”
“Being bored with tragic company. You can’t play cards. You suck at Monopoly. You thought chess was a fashion label. What were you doing as a kid? Playing catch with your
common sense?”
I glare at her. “I was outside. Playing tag. Touching grass. You know
Irma raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Well, I don’t care.”
My eye twitches.
She’s the one who asked!
being normal.”
I take a deep breath and try to zen my way out of the rising annoyance. If the gym wasn’t packed today, I would’ve left her hours ago with a polite wave and a sprint in the opposite
direction.
Liam had gone to check it out early this morning, promising to save me a spot. By the time I finally dragged my sleepy self out of bed and made it down for breakfast, half the ship had the same idea,
That’s when I ran into Irma.
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Or rather – Irma ran into me.
She was in the middle of yelling at her boyfriend (poor guy looked like he wanted to crawl under the buffet table), something about how “real men don’t abandon their girlfriends for biceps,” when she spotted me across the room.
He vanished the second she turned away. Smart man.
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