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As I pulled into the community where she lived, I caught a glimpse of her teal Jeep Wrangler backing out of her driveway and blew my horn.
“Another runner,” I mumbled under my breath. She did this all the time.
She stopped, and I pulled my car in behind her, blocking her in. I got out of my car and walked to her driver’s side window, which she rolled down with a groan.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” I asked.
She turned to me, narrowing her eyes. “If you ever tell anyone how nervous I get about these trips, I swear I’ll ruin your life.”
“You always do this, but once we’re on the trip, you have the time of your life,” I reminded her. “Now get your bags and put them in my car so we can go get started.”
“Yes, Mother,” she snipped as she got out of the Jeep. “I don’t know why we keep doing these trips, anyway.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Because you always want to go on them!” I answered.
“It’s the only time I can get all my friends in one place!” she scoffed. “Now that you’ve all run off and built lives without me, what else am I supposed to do?”
And therein lay the problem.
My best friend had no idea that our friends weren’t her friends anymore—or that I was questioning the continuation of our friendship, myself.
Chapter 2
That afternoon, we stepped onto that cruise with bated breath. We stuck out like a sore thumb walking through the crowd of honeymooners and retirees. Jessie, especially, in her overpriced Gucci Kimono that layered over a fitted black skirt with a stringy red bikini peeking over the curves of her hips. She made her way across the planks of the dock, her dainty feet crammed into nine-inch stilettos that I felt certain would slip between boards and break her ankles before we ever got started.
The other girls, too, were dressed to the nines. Niki wore a floral floor-length dress and black sandals, and Lissa wore black satin shorts and a white top with frills tied into a bow at the back. Sarah was radiant in her sundress. They looked gorgeous.
I had on a pair of denim capris and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. I’d not gotten the memo that we were boarding in our most insta-worthy ensembles.
"It's so good to see you all!" I said enthusiastically, meeting each with hugs.
"Are we excited, ladies?" Jessie squealed with feigned delight, clapping her hands like a child having just spotted some candy. I studied her. Everything about her was so put-on. So fake. Was this really the person I had idolized all my life?
There was palpable unease among the other girls, but Jessie didn't seem to notice.
"Two weeks." I mouthed to them when Jessie turned around to ogle the perspective guys.
Sarah rolled her eyes, Lissa glared, and Niki nodded in return.
The boat had just started sailing, and we were all getting settled into our rooms when Jessie burst through the door of my sleeping cabin. She was slightly put out we weren't starting our manhunt yet. “Get your bikini on!” she urged. “We need to get up on deck and sunbathe. We gotta scope this situation out!”
"Chill out, you ho-bag!" I squealed back teasing. “I gotta get ready first!”
She shimmied out of her black skirt and started striking poses in her red bikini. “I came prepared!” she laughed. “Now hurry up! I’ll meet you up there”
She ran out of my cabin door, and I frantically got ready to head up to meet her. I tossed my hair into a messy bun and changed into my suit.
My bikini was a lovely shade of brown—plain and simple, just how I liked my life and everything in it. I made my way through the door and started running down the hallway myself. As I did, I turned a corner sharp and bumped into someone, knocking myself clumsily to the floor. I looked up into the deep brown eyes of a muscled, sexy Italian man.
“Ohimè!” he exclaimed, reaching a hand out to help me up.
Once standing, I started laughing, prompting him to laugh with me. He pulled his hand back, rubbing at the dark stubble on his jaw.
“I’m so sorry!” I said. “I was just a little too excited to get upstairs with my friend, I guess.”My eyes traveled to the embroidered name on the chest of his perfectly-fitted white polo.
“I’m Matteo,” he said, extending a hand for a shake. “I am the chef on this yacht. It is lovely to meet you.”
“Heather,” I responded, granting him one.
