Chapter One
Cruise Day One: Departing for Vacation
"I sincerely doubt that overly enthusiastic sign," Jennie Kim muttered as she stepped toward the obnoxiously large, brightly colored banner that read Paradise Awaits, Ladies. Jennie wasn't sure paradise was even a thing, let alone a thing that awaited her once she passed under this insultingly cheerful welcome archway made of balloons and the promise of endless possibilities.
A Barbie lookalike with a broad smile nodded at her and held up a bottle of what looked like hand sanitizer. "Welcome aboard, Mrs."—she leaned forward, straining to read the tag on the lanyard around Jennie's neck—"Mrs. Bae."
"Kim." Jennie tried not to growl her reply. "It's Kim, and not Mrs. anything, contrary to what the fancy laminated pass says since my ex-fiancée is a lying cheater who only thinks of herself. Can I get this changed? Or better yet, just pitch it into the ocean with the rest of my hopes and dreams."
The smile dimmed on the woman's face. "Um, sure?"
"Great." Jennie yanked the lanyard off her neck and shoved it into her purse with every intention to bury it at sea like the diamond in Titanic as soon as they were far enough from shore for it to feel remotely cathartic. She nodded toward the bottle of gel the woman held in the air. "I interrupted you—that looks important. You were saying?"
The woman blinked. "Uh, right. Yes." She shook her head and her plastic grin returned. "Welcome aboard, Miss Kim. We're glad to have you with us. Please allow me the opportunity to acquaint you with our sanitizing routine in order to help keep everyone on board healthy and safe."
Jennie extended her hand toward the woman, mirroring her posture, with the intention of retreating to her room as quickly as possible. It was then that she noticed the name tag resting on her unrealistically perky chest. Angela. She looked like an Angela, Jennie thought.
Angela squeezed a generous dollop of the clear gel onto her palm and continued her spiel while Jennie rubbed it in. "We're here to make sure your every desire is met and fulfilled. We can do that best with clean hands and cheerful smiles. We are at your service, every step of the way."
She paused long enough for Jennie to interject again. "Great. That's all very clinical and sanitary." And a little creepy, she thought. "But I get it, thanks."
Unfazed, Angela continued. "Right. Well, I can see here that you are a VIP guest, so you'll be following Enrique over to your stateroom. He'll make sure you have everything you need."
"Fantastic." Jennie was glad to leave the perky plastic woman behind and see what awaited her in this stateroom.
"Right this way, ma'am." Enrique gave her a nod and reached to take her carry-on bags.
"Jennie is fine, thank you." She handed him her belongings but pulled her laptop bag closer to her body. She had no intention of letting this out of her sight—she had to finish the project before they got to Aruba if she had any intention of enjoying her vacation.
"As you wish." He gave her a genial smile and raised his arm to gesture toward the back of the monstrous cruise ship. Jennie didn't miss the way his shirt strained in an apparent attempt to contain his rippling muscles. Enrique, like Angela, was perfectly fit. Like, perfect. She was feeling a little insecure all of a sudden.
He led her along the lower deck by the dockside toward the back of the boat. Jennie tried not to stare at the many lesbian couples looking happy and holding hands, waiting for their turns to board the ship. She was grateful when he took her toward a set of double doors that led into the center of the ship and away from the crowds of people eager to start vacation.
