I squeezed her hand and nodded.
“So. What did you do?” Dolly asked.
“I…uh…” I opened my purse, pretending to look for something. My hand closed around the thin, wrapped bar of hand soap I’d swiped from the ladies’ room. I rubbed it back and forth between my fingers.
“Dolly. Let her be.” Naani finished her dinner and pushed her plate away. “Did you eat, Moti?”
“Yes, Naani.” What was I going to say? That my food was sitting on Isabelle’s table? That I didn’t deserve to eat?
I looked away and caught Nikos smiling at me from behind the fronds of a huge fern. Maybe he was laughing because he saw what happened, but that was okay. I laughed when people fell too. And I’d gone for the water the same timehe’dgone for the water. My face had been hidden by a giant prop on the table.Hisface was hidden by a giant prop on the table. My God, we had so much in common. Could we be any more perfect for each other?
I felt myself grow lighter. I’d just been dislodged from a tight spot—literally and figuratively. Me, falling over backward, could quite possibly have been the best thing to happen to me. And better things were yet to come. Like Nikos falling for me. Just because I was no longer the maid of honor didn’t mean I couldn’t light a fire under the best man.
My mind cut to a picture of me running barefoot on a beach in Greece—flowy white dress, lasso in hand, a beautiful sunset in the backdrop. Nikos was running up ahead. I threw the rope, cut the slack, and tightened the noose. BOOM. Nikos landed at my feet.
Granted, him being all trussed up wasn’t exactly the picture of happily-ever-after, but sometimes a girl just has to go for it and hope for the best—especially when it’s the one thing keeping her afloat in the sea of drowning dreams.
I had three months to step up my game.
Three months to Isabelle’s wedding.
Two weeks on a family cruise to win over the only man my mother would approve of.
One window of opportunity to break free.
I was ready for this. So, so ready for this.
I put away my purse and smiled back at Three-Thumbed Nikos.
Darling, the stories we’re going to tell our children.
First impressions are important, especially the second time around.
I planned meticulously for the next time I saw Nikos, including the speed and direction of the wind, so I’d know which way to face to get that sexy, blown-out, Beyonce-on-stage look. Maybe I was overcompensating for not losing all the weight I wanted to. My clothes were creased from the long flight to Athens,butI had the wind situation under control. What I did notanticipate was the yacht.
Holy Mother of Jet-Set Luxury.
I shielded my eyes from the Aegean sun as I looked up. It wasn’t just a private, chartered boat but an insanely extravagant mega-yacht with a glistening gold-trimmed superstructure. A line of sweeping portholes suggested an equally impressive interior. In the row of ships moored at the marina, Isabelle and Thomas’s love boat cut a sleek, majestic figure. I was going to be on it for two weeks. With Three-Thumbed Nikos.
My ship had come in, quite literally. I should’ve been swarming the deck, but I had a moment of hesitation—a panic attack knocking at my door. Maybe it was Ma Anga’s warning about how I would die in the water. Maybe it was my brain’s fear center having a hissy fit because I couldn’t swim. Maybe it was the weight of all the expectations I’d piled onto this one trip that were making it hard to breathe. Or maybe I’d simply inherited Dolly’s uncanny ability to find drama where none existed.
“Come on, Ma.” I took a deep breath and tugged Dolly up the staircase connecting the yacht to the dock. Yes, an actual teak staircase. No gangway or footbridge to board this baby. Never in my life had I played it so cool while simultaneously freaking out.
A uniformed blond in a white polo shirt and khaki shorts greeted us. “Welcome aboard the Abigail Rose II. You must be Moti and Dolly. I’m Hannah, your Chief Steward. Anything you need, I’m your go-to person.” She pronounced my name perfectly. She was competent and confident, the kind of person who’d dive into the water after a flailing passenger while simultaneously giving you makeup advice. I liked her right away.
“We have a barefoot policy on the yacht, so please remove your shoes and deposit them in the basket.” Hannah pointed to a jute basket that already had a pile of shoes in it. “Heels can damage the decks and dirty soles leave scuff marks, but you’re welcome to wear clean socks or light-soled shoes reserved for indoor use.”
I removed my shoes and accepted the cold towel and drink she offered. Dolly sniffed the lightly perfumed towel before dabbing her face and plopping it back on the tray. She was miffed we’d missed the official meet-and-greet with the crew, as well as the extra three nights in Athens that the rest of the wedding party had arrived earlier for. But since I worked for Joseph Uncle and we were both on this cruise at the same time, two weeks off was the best I could do.
When Dolly was pissed, she liked to get everyone around her riled up. Seething over something together is more satisfying than silently fuming in your own corner. On the flight to Athens, she declared I must be suffering some sort of chemical imbalance for not being more upset with Isabelle for firing me as her maid of honor. By the time we were flying over England, the diagnosis changed tomicrodeckia(not playing with a full deck of cards) because I wasn’t livid at being replaced by a hired professional (yes, there is such a thing as maids-of-honor-for-hire—guaranteed not to topple off platforms or choke on water at inopportune times). When she didn’t get the response she wanted, Dolly mumbled something about my genetic makeup and babies switched at birth. Then she fell into a deep, blissful sleep (well, blissful for me).
She seemed impressed by the opulence of our surroundings as we followed Hannah through the onyx-floored foyer to the elevator.
“Everyone else is at the safety briefing,” Hannah said. “I’ll show you to your stateroom and we’ll get you up to speed once you’ve settled in.”
“May I have a look at that?” Dolly pointed to the clipboard Hannah was holding. It had a list of all the passengers and their rooms:
AFT DECK:
