Page 13 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Take that, you Big Apple hater!
Riley’s brow hitches, but he doesn’t say anything, so I order my drink and then spin my stool away from the bar, admiring the tropical, novelty decor. “Have you done much exploring yet?” I ask him.
“No.”
“Well, you’ll have plenty of time for that, I guess.”
He nods, and I get the impression he doesn’t want company, his answers clipped, his attention still fixed on his glass.
“First cruise?” I ask, continuing to make unwantedsmall talk.
“Yep.”
“Me too.”
He doesn’t offer anything in return, so I persist. We need to get to know one another—it’s vital, since I won’t be able to fall asleep with him in the same room as me if I still view him as a complete stranger. “What destination are you looking forward to the most?”
“All of them.”
“None in particular? Personally, I can’t wait to see Paris. And Greenland. Oh, and Nova Scotia. There’s a Titanic museum there. I love all things Titanic,” I confide, and when Riley chuckles, I relax a little and spin back to face the bar. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re about to go on a transatlantic cruise, and you love all things related to an ocean liner that sank in the Atlantic?” he points out.
“Well, when you put it like that….” I accept my drink from the bartender and take a sip, almost choking as it burns my esophagus.
Oh my Lord! What is this? Moonshine?
I’m not normally a “drinker.” The odd glass of wine and celebratory Cosmo, yes. Pure ethanol, no.
Subtly pushing my glass aside, I eat the cherry garnish instead, then continue, “Modern-day ships are perfectly safe. Watertight bulkheads. Advanced radar technology. Sufficient lifeboats….”
“They can still sink.”
Nonsense.“Not cruise ships.”
“2012.Costa Concordia,” he deadpans, swirling his drink and downing the rest before gesturing to the bartender for another.
That’s somewhat uncomfortably recent.
Frowning, I protectively clutch my bag to my chest.
“You gonna take that thing everywhere you go?” he asks, side-eyeing me.
I squeeze it tighter. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing. I’m just wondering if you’ve smuggled your pet chihuahua or rabbit onto the ship.”
I let out a small laugh. “Nope. Guess again.”
“Cocaine?”
I shake my head.
“Dead boyfriend?”
My insides freeze.
Riley’s eyes light up comically, and he points his empty glass at me. “That’s it, isn’t it?” he jokes. “Asshole ex is in there. You offed him, and now you’re getting rid of his remains.”
