Sweet Reality

by Laura Heffernan

  “What’s wrong?” Justin whispered. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “It’s my ex-boyfriend,” I replied. “Danielle warned me that he paid for the cruise, but I didn’t want to believe it until I spotted him. And why is he holding a sign with my face on it if he’s here with Ariana?”

  Before Justin replied, the cruise director came out on stage to introduce everyone. He recapped our season, with pictures flashing on a screen behind us. I cringed at some of the highlights, like me climbing up the bathroom wall to catch Ariana in a lie, but glowed at the ahhh passing through the crowd at the replay of Justin running down the driveway after me and our kiss. He squeezed my hand under the table.

  Every picture of Justin in the entire slideshow included me or Ariana or both. The longer the show played, the worse I felt. The two of us overshadowed his identity without realizing it. The Network played up the love triangle for the drama, and Justin as a person disappeared into the show. He’d forever be defined by the moment he left the show.

  Members of the cruise staff stood in the rows holding microphones. When the introduction finished, we said hello to the audience. Then the cruise director opened up the floor for questions.

  “This question is for Jen and Justin.” A woman about my mom’s age went first. “The two of you lived in the house together, with all the scheming and lies. Jen thought Justin was using her to stay on the show. Justin, you thought the same thing. It took you eight weeks to learn to be honest with each other. Do you find that you still have problems with communication and trust, after returning to your regular lives?”

  Justin’s face grew red. The woman couldn’t have planned a more perfectly worded question to push his buttons. Heck, for all we knew, maybe she had.

  “Not at all,” I said. “The show was a different environment. We all wanted to win the money, but alliances still formed. Ed and Rachel supported me every step of the way, and so did Birdie, who unfortunately wasn’t able to make it this week. I let my own doubts shake me because my ex-boyfriend cheated on me before the show started. I didn’t trust my own instincts after being so wrong about someone I thought loved me.”

  “And the other thing,” Justin said, “is that when you’re trapped in a house with someone for several weeks, you get to know them. Until the show pulled the stunt with the ‘serious boyfriend’ at the end, I never doubted Jen or her feelings for me. I was just focused more on winning the show than starting a relationship in front of fifteen million strangers.”

  He referred to a mini-challenge near the end of the season, when we competed to bring a loved one to visit us on the show. When I found out Dominic waited in a nearby hotel in case I won, I’d refused to participate. Thankfully, Justin won, and when Sarah came into the house, she helped us work through the misunderstanding.

  Justin’s eyes lingered on my face, his pupils dilated. A warm fuzzy feeling started low in my belly. That expression in his green eyes, combined with his dimples, usually led us straight to the bedroom. Where we couldn’t go any time soon, darn it. Stupid Network. Instead, I rubbed his thigh under the table. He pressed his leg up against mine, and I shivered.

  He continued, “I always intended to call her the second I got eliminated. I knew she was something special as soon as we met.”

  Awww. Leaning over, I kissed him. The crowd cheered.

  We got stuck answering three more questions about our relationship before the audience moved on, directing their attention to the rest of the panel. Justin was right: neither of us had any identity on our own. Every question went “to Jen and Justin” or “to Justin and Jen.” We existed in this reality only as a couple.

  Ed talked about the difficulty of coming out on the show and his move to Los Angeles to work as a gay rights activist and comedian. He did not mention his relationship with one of the crew members. Not a single member of the audience asked him about sneaking off to have sex during the show (which I knew for a fact he did, unlike me and Justin) or whether his relationship was a sham for ratings. Lucky.

  Rachel explained her plans to open a cheerleading camp for underprivileged kids with her grand prize money. No one asked how I spent my fifty thousand. Perhaps I’d have gotten some questions about it if I spread rumors about spending all the cash on my boyfriend. Or on the two of us buying a house together. For almost an hour, I sorely missed having my own identity.

  Then the cruise director announced the last question. To my horror, my ex stood up. When we’d been dating, I thought Dominic the most handsome guy in the world, with his bronze skin, curly dark hair, and always-smiling brown eyes. Now, my stomach churned at the sight of him. When one of the crew members handed him a microphone, I groaned internally.

  “This question is for Jen. Do you believe in second chances? Do you think the two of us could ever be together again?”

  A chill ran down my spine. Ariana’s date, my ass. She’d brought him for one reason and one reason only: to torment me. So much for turning over a new leaf.

  I took a long moment to collect myself before answering. Justin squeezed my hand under the table. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to my ex-boyfriend, who you may remember from several conversations on The Fishbowl about how he forgot to mention being married.”

  The resulting boos throughout the audience made me feel better. But when they died down, the cruise director turned to me. “Jen? The question?”

  Right. Here I’d been hoping to ignore my ex and move on to another question instead of answering him.

  “First: No, Dominic and I could never be together again. I’m in love with Justin.” I paused to gaze at my boyfriend. The love shining out of his eyes nearly made me forget the rest of the question. He kissed me briefly, and I returned my attention to the crowd. “Generally, I don’t think it would be fair to say no one is ever entitled to a second chance. People make mistakes, and forgiveness is part of being human. But even if I hadn’t moved on, you are the last person I would ever go out with again. I can forgive a lot, but I won’t tolerate cheating—and I shouldn’t have to.”

  Dominic opened his mouth, but the audience burst out in applause, and the person holding the microphone swept away down the aisle. I was happy enough not to be able to hear his words. Even at this distance, I could see my ex mouthing, “I love you.”

  I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

  Instead, I turned to Ariana and whispered under the cover of the clapping. “If you’re so sorry, what’s he doing here?”

  “My agent set it up,” she whispered back. “He didn’t tell me until few days ago, after it was too late to cancel. Trust me, the last thing I wanted was to spend the entire cruise watching Justin and my fake date drool all over you.”

  That was the most sincere-sounding thing she’d ever said to me, but I still didn’t trust her. The whole story seemed too pat, too rehearsed. What possible reason would she have for bringing Dominic on the cruise if she wasn’t trying to stir things up?

  The director thanked everyone for coming, and we waited while the audience cleared the aisles. To my horror, Dominic stayed behind as the rows of seats emptied, then approached the stairs at the side of the stage.

  “Everything okay?” Justin asked, pulling me toward him. “Great final answer, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Don’t look, but Dominic is walking this way,” I said. “Is there another exit?”

  “I don’t know, but don’t worry about him. We’re a team, remember? We can deal with this guy. Although I may throttle whoever set up the room assignments.”

  “Seriously.” I rolled my eyes. “Can you stay somewhere else?”

  “Not without spending a lot of money we don’t have right now. But how much time are we really going to spend in the rooms? I’ll be fine. And if he gets out of line, we’ll sic Ed on him. No problem.”

  “What am I doing?” Ed asked.

  We explained the situation, but before I finished, I realized Dominic had vanished from the side of th
e stage. Did security take him away?

  A swish of long, dark hair caught my eye. On the far side of the theater, Ariana walked up the aisle toward the doors with Dominic. His arm wrapped around her waist, almost as if he were supporting her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

  Ariana said she turned over a new leaf. She claimed she didn’t invite Dominic on the cruise, and he wasn’t really a date. But then why was he here? Dominic said he wanted me back. Both were demonstrated liars. And now they walked off together, arm-in-arm, appearing like any other devoted couple. What was going on?

  And why did I care?

  Chapter 7

  THE QUEEN KELLY’S VOICE

  Row, Row, Row Your Boat

  Monday edition

  Welcome to our first full day at sea. We’ve got a day packed with activities, from miniature golf on the eighteenth deck to the Hairy Back Contest by the pool to arts and crafts in the kids’ only area. The gym on the fourth floor is open all day, as is the attached spa.

  Mid-morning, drop by the theater for a Q&A and autograph session with Danielle Rossellini, the star of last year’s breakout hit, Suddenly Single in Seattle.

  After lunch, four of our reality stars face off to create the perfect dessert for our host, America’s Totally ’80s Bake-Off ’s Tammy Rae! Former contestants from other shows will be on hand to judge.

  Meet us on the Lido Deck at 1:00 PM. Stick around after the winners are announced for a sample of Tammy Rae’s show-winning chocolate coconut cupcakes recipe. You definitely won’t want to miss these, but there’s a limited supply, so don’t be late.

  Inside this Edition:

  Full schedule of Monday’s events 2-3

  Map of the ship 4-5

  Meet Our Captain 6

  Our other roommates apparently either missed the boat or paid for upgrades to better rooms, because Rachel and I found ourselves alone in our cabin. We didn’t mind. Already, Rachel’s excess clothes and accessories littered the top of both bunk beds. Two more bodies wouldn’t have fit.

  The next morning, I armed for battle before heading to the dining room for breakfast. My new white-and-purple sundress flattered my coloring perfectly. White wedge sandals helped me stand tall. Well, tall-er. At five-foot-four, I’d never stand super tall without stilts. A slathering of sunblock gave me the coconut odor I would forever associate with all things The Fishbowl. I took twice my usual amount of time with my hair and makeup, despite knowing twenty seconds in the winds on the Lido Deck would render my newly created curls flaccid. When I finally told Rachel I was ready to go to breakfast, I felt like a million bucks.

  She emerged from the bathroom wearing a green bikini and flip-flops. “You don’t look like you’re heading to the pool. And you’re not holding a fruity beverage. I see no umbrellas.”

  “Isn’t it early for alcohol?”

  “We’re on vacation! It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

  “Okay, true, but I need your help,” I said.

  “Are there cabana boys involved?”

  I thought about it for a minute. “Probably not. But there is one evil bitch, and your old friend needs backup. Ariana is probably at this very moment trying to convince Justin to dump me and go out with her instead.”

  “Well, that’s a waste of breath. Didn’t she bring a date?”

  “Remember the guy from the Q&A? The one who asked me about second chances? That’s my ex.”

  “Oh, right.” Rachel said. “Never mind, then. That girl is clearly on a mission.”

  “Exactly. She told me her agent set it up and she didn’t know, but why would I believe her? This is the girl who lied about having an art history degree for no apparent reason. Nothing she says can be trusted.”

  “Ugh. What a mess. But seriously, Jen, don’t worry. Justin loves you,” Rachel said. “Don’t let your insecurities ruin a good thing. Go. Be awesome. I’m sure he won’t pay any attention to her. It’s a huge ship.”

  “But . . . come with me?” I puffed out my lower lip and gazed up at her with sad, round eyes.

  Rachel sighed heavily. “Fine. But you owe me a fruity, boozy beverage later.”

  “Did I mention they have mimosas in the dining room?”

  “No, you did not! Let me grab a cover-up. I need to do my makeup before facing this witch.”

  Justin messaged me that he’d been seated at a table for eight by the window on the starboard side. I let him know Rachel and I would be meeting him shortly.

  At dinner the night before, the waiter had explained that on a regular cruise, guests were seated randomly at large tables, regardless of the number of people in their party. New diners were taken to any table with space for them unless they asked for a private table. That meant most passengers would be seated with strangers unless they requested otherwise. The idea was that it promoted interaction among passengers from all over the world.

  The producers had asked the waitstaff to continue this practice for our trip, even though it would leave about half the tables in this dining room unused for the duration. Great. I wouldn’t have minded being randomly seated with a nice retired couple from Idaho or something, but the fans had been funneled to another dining room. Sitting at a random table with two friends and five empty seats virtually guaranteed that Ariana and Dominic would be joining us, along with everyone’s best friend, Murphy’s Law.

  When I turned toward the stairs instead of the elevator, Rachel stopped. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking the stairs.”

  “Well, yes, I see that. Why?”

  I dropped my voice in case anyone was listening. “I can’t stand the possibility of being trapped in an elevator with Dominic or Ariana. Or worse both. Not even with you beside me.”

  She lifted one foot, revealing perfectly polished, cherry-red toenails and three-inch wedges on her sandals. “You can’t possibly expect me to take the stairs in these.”

  Reality TV makes for strange bedfellows, but you really got to know someone when locked in a house with them for eight weeks. I wracked my brain, trying to recall a story she’d once told me. “Didn’t you help deliver a calf on your way to prom, in a floor-length mermaid gown and six-inch stilettos? Right before being crowned queen?”

  Her gaze dropped to the ground. “That story may have been embellished for the sake of the viewers.”

  I crossed my arms and waited, not speaking, as her lips twitched. We could have been in the dining room already.

  Finally, she met my eyes. A giggled escaped. “They were five-inch stilettos. Darn you and your perfect memory.”

  I followed her down the stairs, listening to her faked grumbles every step of the way and hoping we didn’t run into Ariana or Dominic on the way to the dining room.

  For once, my luck held out. Ed and Connor waited at the table with Justin already. I dropped into the empty seat at Justin’s right and rested my head on his shoulder.

  “I missed you last night,” I said. “Rachel doesn’t snore. It was too quiet.”

  She snorted. “I may not snore, but it sure wasn’t quiet in our room.”

  I flushed, and Justin kissed my forehead.

  “Told you I’m not the one who snores.” he said, lifting my chin until our lips met.

  The strain of the last twenty-four hours vanished. I moved my hand to his thigh, and a thrill went through me when he tensed beneath my palm. Five minutes. I’d have given anything for a mere five minutes alone with him. Maybe we could sneak into a bathroom or something. They couldn’t have cameras everywhere.

  Across the table, Ed cleared his throat. “Get a room.”

  “We’re trying.” I grumbled, my lips still attached to Justin’s. “The Network said no.”

  “Sorry, Jen, but I can’t hear you with that lawyer on your face.”

  With an exaggerated groan, I moved back to my seat. My hand remained on Justin’s thigh. He squeezed it under the table, and I smiled at the promise in that touch. We’d find some alone time, sooner or later.

&
nbsp; Less than five minutes after we sat down, the hostess brought Danielle to join us.

  “No way,” Ed said. “You can’t sit with us.”

  “What is this? Some movie about high school?”

  Apparently, he’d seen her show. I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him about Danielle after the Q&A, so he had no idea we’d worked things out. I’d much rather sit and eat with Danielle than Ariana and Dominic. Or her rude friend, Marilyn or whoever.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Danielle and I have a lot in common. We’re going to be BFFs.”

  He shot me a questioning look.

  “Really,” I said. Danielle smiled at me gratefully, and I continued. “Dominic’s not allowed within twenty-five feet of her. And since I don’t want to see him, either, letting Danielle sit with us is the best way to have a peaceful breakfast.”

  “Dude’s not a total wanker,” Ed said. “If he hadn’t lied and cheated on you and come to help Ariana steal your man, I might actually like him.”

  Rachel snorted.

  Justin said, “I doubt she came all this way just to break us up. As if she could.”

  Although I wouldn’t put anything past Ariana, now wasn’t the time to argue. The look in his eyes made my face grow warm. I raised our clasped hands to my lips, my eyes never leaving his.

  Ed cleared his throat. “Let’s change the subject before the lovebirds make us too uncomfortable. Connor and I aren’t allowed to make out in public, and we’re getting peanut butter and jelly over here. Please let us enjoy our breakfast before he has to start working, and I have to go schmooze the fans.”

  “Let me stay, and I’ll tell you a secret,” Danielle said. Ed motioned for her to continue. “The hot chocolate in the dining room is ten times better than what they serve upstairs. Even without booze. Down here, they make it with milk instead of water.”