“I stayed loyal to you?” My voice bounces from the tip of my tongue two octaves too high. I can’t in a million years figure this one out. Not when my express purpose for this cruise was to wipe him out of my life by showing the world how much fun I would have without him.
“True. You were a little crazy right after I cancelled our wedding,” Stephen says as if he’s a therapist and I’m lying helplessly on a couch. “That’s expected. I figured you’d run and hide, so I cut you some slack. But you didn’t take it too far, other than the vibrator in the mouth selfie.”
“Sounds like that disqualifies me for any position with you,” I say as drolly as I can. What fantasy land does my wannabe politician live on? “I’m obviously a loose cannon who can’t be trusted.”
He tilts his head back and laughs. “After your cake-jumping video went viral, I realized something. I got a lot of free publicity and sympathy. My future approval rating skyrocketed and my name was in everyone’s mouth. These days, with reality TV stars running for office left and right, anything done to draw attention is a gift in terms of news cycles.”
“The last thing I want is a viral video.” I remember how dismissive Jordan was with that kind of aspiration. “I can’t think of anything worse than you parading me around while running for office.”
Stephen tilts my chin up to force me to gaze into his manipulative eyes. “You’d be a great distraction from the real issues and gain valuable name recognition for me, as well as solidarity from husbands and boyfriends all over the country.”
I have advice for him to improve his political brand instead of using me. “You’d do better to wear mascara on your eyelashes. Wear sequined bodysuits and go for the big-haired, Elvis look. Or get a trademark tattoo or piercings railroaded over your face.”
He fluffs my hair, flinging it up and out. “That’s for you to do, be notorious. I can be your straight man while you play ‘spin the news cycle.’ You’re pretty good at that. I saw you waltz out of the Yuletide Ball with such flair. And the way you play shuffleboard, like a bendy pretzel? We can be so good together.”
He wiggles his almost invisible eyebrows as if we share a secret joke.
He’s a joke all right, and one I’m not laughing at. There is no way I want to be stuck in a charade with my ex. What does he think I am, a boomerang?
“How did you know what I’ve been up to?” I back away from him in horror. “You were on board this ship watching me? How did I not see you?”
“Easy. I wore a cruise line uniform. Hiding in plain sight.”
“You were spying on me?”
“Only because I love you so much and wanted to be sure I had your loyalty.” He reaches for me, and I duck under his armpit to walk around to his other side. “Like they say, love isn’t love until it’s tested,” he says with a smug voice.
“And how exactly did you test me, other than spying on me?” My face heats and my stomach curls at the thought he must have seen me kissing Jordan. Did he not count that as disloyal?
“I hired a man to seduce you. Maybe he’s not your type, but—”
“You hired a man? Who?” I stop in my tracks and gape at him, even as my stomach twists into knots, because it’s obvious he means Jordan.
“Two guys, actually. Plan A and B,” Stephen says. “Sven had a go at you first, but you didn’t pick up on it. When Jordan gave it a shot, I thought I was a goner. But you saw through him, didn’t you? He’s a trickster and a liar, and even though you kissed him like the frog he is, he never turned into a prince for you. You won my trust when you told Jordan you would not pursue a physical relationship with him.”
Everything drops with a splat, my brain, my heart, my lungs, and my dignity. I feel as squashed as a bug under a boot heel. If the girls who hated my guts in third grade could see me now, they’d be jumping up and down with joy.
It all comes snapping back together. The furtive phone calls. The feeling of being followed. The fake hilarity and the whispers, hinting of big secrets. The come-ons and the drawbacks, playing me like a fisherman reels in a fish.
Jordan was one big phony.
Jordan tricked me.
Jordan played the dirtiest prank on me ever.
Even worse, it’s Stephen who set me up for the biggest humiliation of my life—not that he knows what happened on the mountaintop, thankfully.
I push away from my conniving politician wannabe. “You’re wrong about love having to be tested. True love needs no test. We’re done. Finished.”
“I don’t agree,” he says. “We’re on track to a great start.”
“A great start? You didn’t see me kissing Jordan, did you? I was all over him.”
“You never slept with him. That I know. You flirted. True. But you resisted all his onslaughts. Jordan’s manhood took a big hit when you gave him the raspberry instead of a kiss, and that night when you fell onto your waterbed?” Stephen’s nose snuffs with wet, slurpy chuckles. “You purposely landed on the booby trap to put an end to his seduction technique, and you never gave him his Christmas present because you meant it for me.”
He pulls at his belt and shows me the Loki, double-serpent belt buckle I bought for Jordan. I should have known—double serpents for double crossing.
“How did you get that?” A sinking feeling grabs me by the ankles like I’m wearing concrete boots. “Did Jordan report back to you?”
