Page 28 of A Perfect Disaster

“Excuse me, what kind of betrayal is this?” I exclaim.

“A very balanced and diplomatic one, I’d say,” Gonzalo replies without losing his smile.

“But you’re my best friend, so you’d better not bring that up here.”

Gonzalo raises both hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. I won’t mention the woman who must not be named.”

“Gonzalo…” I warn him.

“An entertainment coordinator who’s pretty hot,” he insists, amused.

“Gonzalo.”

“Yeah, yeah. That woman with the dangerous smile and a look that takes your breath away.”

“You’re going too far.”

I glare at him, clenching my jaw. He holds the smile for another second before ending the teasing.

“All right, I’ll take a vow of silence,” he replies, though his eyes still twinkle mischievously.

We spend the next few minutes in a comfortable silence, and I appreciate that he decides to change the subject. Gonzalo can be exasperating in his ways, but he has an innate intuition for sensing when I need silence, even though his sarcasm always intervenes just before my own thoughts collapse.

“Now, seriously,” he says, with no trace of mockery in his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I confess with a deep sigh.

“That’s obvious at a glance,” he says.

“Thanks for confirming that,” I reply with a half-smile.

“I’m talking about headquarters. Do you feel like everything’s on track?”

I swallow hard, facing reality. That’s the real reason I keep analyzing protocols when common sense tells me I should be sleeping soundly. The reason I can’t tolerate deviations from the norm, or unexpected friction that reawakens an emotional memory that should be long gone, or absurd—and sexy—attractions that go by the name of Maika Aranda.

“I’d say yes,” I admit honestly. “That’s why I didn’t want things to get complicated from the start.”

Gonzalo doesn’t ask what I mean by “things.” Because he knows perfectly well.

“Boarding went smoothly,” he says, trying to cheer me up. “And the welcome party turned out better than we expected. The teams handled everything professionally, and there were no serious issues.”

“And what about the other departments? Haven’t there been any problems?” I ask, looking for something to make me feel like I’m in control.

“None at all,” Gonzalo replies.

“Good,” I murmur, more to myself than to him.

“Helen, everything’s going to run smoothly,” he adds, raising his glass in a toast. “I’m convinced it’ll stay that way for the rest of the cruise.”

I clink my glass against his gently.

“Don’t say that. That’s tempting fate.”

“I think misfortune is afraid of you,” he says a moment later. “So you should feel at ease.”

“I hope so,” I reply, and for the first time in many hours, I feel my body begin to realize that the day is over.