I Thought It Was You (Oceanic Dreams #4) Read online

  I Thought It Was You

  The Oceanic Dreams Series, Book Four

  Kirsty McManus

  Chapter One

  Day One: Miami

  Yeah, this was a mistake.

  I should have trusted my gut, but I made the decision at two in the morning while I was feeling sorry for myself—and after almost a whole bottle of red wine. My gut hadn’t quite been working the way it was supposed to.

  I had huge misgivings the next day—and I don’t mean the hangover. But by that point, I’d already paid.

  I signed up to go on a cruise. On my own.

  I mean, who does that, even when they’re sober? Admittedly, I will know one person on the ship, but that person is my brother Patrick—and while I knew he would have to work some of the time (he’s a croupier in the ship’s casino), he only told me later just how long his shifts were. As in, I would be lucky to see him for a total of seven hours for the whole week. Apparently, the casino wouldn’t be open when in port, but he’d been allocated to the skeleton crew that needed to remain onboard for the trip, and he couldn’t get out of it. Patrick explained they required a minimum level of staff in case of a fire or pirate incursion. I asked him if he was joking about the pirate thing and he assured me he was not.

  At least my initial impression of the boat wasn’t too bad. I’d never been up close and personal with a ship that big. The top deck loomed way overheard, taller than half the buildings in Brisbane—where I’d just flown in from. And it certainly evoked a sense of excitement, with staff decked out in smart uniforms and handing everyone glasses of champagne as they boarded.

  I collected my glass and tentatively headed up the gangplank. I took a sip of the fizzy liquid and forced my body to relax. I had to focus on all the positive aspects of this adventure. I was going to visit the Caribbean! I could technically just lie by the pool for seven days and read a book! And I could eat anything I wanted anytime!

  But all those thoughts flew out the window when I entered the atrium, and the first thing that appeared in my vision was a bunch of sweaty twenty-one-year-olds playing an impromptu game of beer pong on a nearby table.

  I was way out of my depth.

  Being Australian, I always envied the kids in American movies, with their proms and their college sororities. We had a debutante ball, and a dance called a formal, but it was nowhere near the scale of what they did in the US. And we didn’t have anything like sororities or fraternities.

  Now I was twenty-eight, and too old for things like beer pong, or living in shared dormitories.

  A small ball flew in my direction and hit me square in the face. A roar of laughter went up in the group. At first, I thought their amusement was aimed at me, until I realized everyone was looking at the guy, who obviously misjudged his target by a mile.

  He came over to retrieve the missile. “Sorry,” he said, eyes twinkling. “You want to join us?”

  “Uh, maybe later. Thanks.” I hurried off in search of my brother. He promised he would be around to greet me when I arrived.

  Even though Patrick gave me clear instructions on how to get to the concierge desk—which he claimed was the easiest place to meet—I still didn’t see it immediately. There were too many people milling around, a lot of them already drunk and over-excited.

  I finally found the desk and looked around. No one resembling my brother was in the immediate vicinity. There was a woman seated at the table, but she was busy talking to a man in a wheelchair and his friend.

  I was just starting to get anxious when a voice spoke behind me.

  “Hi, are you lost?”

  I turned around and found myself face-to-face with a cheeky smile and some very attractive dimples. He reminded me of Cary Argos in The Good Wife, but without the over-the-top arrogance. (Apparently, the guy who played Cary was also Logan in Gilmore Girls, but I didn’t want to admit to anyone that I’d never actually watched Gilmore Girls. You got weird looks when you confessed something like that.)

  “Oh, hey. Um, I was just looking for my brother. He said he’d meet me here. Do you work on the ship?”

  He chuckled and looked down at his outfit, which consisted of an indigo t-shirt, a dark grey denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black skinny jeans. “No. Do I look like I do?”

  My cheeks heated up. “Sorry, no. I don’t know why I asked that. I’ve never been on one of these things, and I’m a little nervous.”

  “I’ve been on a few. They can be a lot of fun. Are you part of the singles cruise?”

  I blinked. “Sorry, what?”

  “The singles cruise. Around one hundred and fifty of the guests are here for that purpose.”

  “Oh, God no. My brother booked this for me because he works in the casino. I just needed a bit of time away from my regular life.”

  “Ah.”

  I mentally scolded myself. What if he was here on the singles cruise and I just insulted him? I slowly made eye contact with him and asked. “Are you here for that reason?”

  He laughed. “No. This cruise was the only one that worked with the timing I needed to get to Cozumel. I work for a charity that provides clean drinking water and improves sanitation around the world, and I’m meeting some people there to discuss a new project. I hate to fly, so I usually tag along on whatever cruise is available when I need it.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “You’re scared of flying?”

  “Not scared. I just don’t like not being able to move. And unless I pay for extra legroom, it’s way too cramped for me.”

  I belatedly realized he was over six-foot-four.

  “Oh. That’s cool.” I saw a familiar face making its way towards me. “Hey, there’s my brother.” I waved my hands in the air so he could see me.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then,” the guy said. “I’m sure I’ll see you ‘round.”

  “Yes! And thank you for checking on me. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Wells.”

  “Hi, Wells. I’m Olivia. Liv, for short.”

  He smiled broadly and backed away before Patrick reached us. I was still looking in his direction when Patrick nudged me with his shoulder.

  “Who were you talking to?”

  “I don’t know. Just some guy.”

  “Hooking up already?” he teased, wriggling his eyebrows.

  “No! And before we go any further, you didn’t tell me there was a singles cruise on this boat!”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, about that…”

  I looked at him, stricken. “You didn’t…”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Wait, wait. I didn’t do it on purpose. It just turned out that the only cabins left were part of the singles package. So you’ll be sleeping near them, but you don’t have to be part of their schedule if you don’t want to.”

  “So there’s no obligation for me to participate in their activities?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean you don’t think so?”

  My brother looked behind him. “Oops, sorry. I have to go. I need to attend the orientation briefing. You have your room key?”

  I held it up. “Yep. Got it back in the terminal.”

  He shoved a piece of paper at me. “Come find me later and we’ll chat.” He hurried off, leaving me there on my own.

  I almost called out after him, but I knew it would be pointless. I couldn’t believe my brother! Springing something like that on me.

  I looked down at the paper. Originally, I’d hoped that Patrick would give me a tour and then show me to my room, but that obviously wasn’t happening now. The paper revealed a few instructions about life aboard the Oceanic Ap
hrodite, the vessel I was currently standing on, and a map with my room circled.

  I decided to do a little exploring on my own. The current level contained a couple of restaurants, some boutiques and a theater. Up a few floors were the pool and exercise areas. There were people everywhere, but admittedly, they didn’t all seem as wild as the beer-pong players. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Finally, I went back down to find my room. I must have timed it just right, because I didn’t see anyone else in the corridor. I wasn’t mentally prepared to engage in any awkward small talk yet.

  I quickly let myself into my room and looked around.

  Okay. I could work with this. At least Patrick had booked me a private cabin, so I didn’t have to share. I had a king bed, a narrow desk, and even my own bathroom. I didn’t have an ocean view, but I figured if I wanted to enjoy the scenery, I could always find some quiet corner of the ship above deck, or in the library. I couldn’t believe this ship had a library and an artist’s studio!

  I sat down on the bed. So. This was going to be my home for the next seven days.

  I tried to rationalize the situation. Seven days wasn’t long. And it had to be better than what I was leaving behind.

  Maybe I would be able to avoid the people who were part of the singles cruise. After all, it wasn’t like I had to wear a fluorescent nametag advertising the fact.

  And who knew? I might even manage to have some fun.

  Chapter Two

  I had a small carry-on with me, which I left beside my bed, but my bigger suitcase wouldn’t arrive at the room until later.

  I decided I needed a drink and snuck out into the corridor, in search of a quiet bar.

  I didn’t know if it was because everyone had just boarded, but finding somewhere quiet proved difficult. I contemplated taking my drink and retreating to my room for a couple of hours, but I felt I should at least try and make the best of the situation.

  The idea of being outside appealed to me, so I made my way back to the pool deck and over to its nearby bar. I ordered a mojito and sat on a reclining sun-lounge near the railing, looking back at the port. I assumed we would start moving soon, but I took a few minutes to enjoy the current view. We were in a channel with a narrow strip of land on one side that contained a long, straight road. I could see a bunch of sail boats beyond that, and several islands populated with houses. The water was a deep blue-green, and I noticed another cruise ship behind us. I wondered where it was going. I hadn’t been to the US much, and because I didn’t have a lot of money, I didn’t really have time to see much of it this time around either. I’d flown into Miami International Airport last night and spent part of the day in town before having to board the ship this afternoon. Patrick must have known someone high up, because the cost of a seven-day cruise in the Caribbean, including airfares from Brisbane, was cheaper than a similar cruise back in Australia.

  Initially, I thought not knowing anyone here would be a bad thing, but I was starting to wonder if maybe it was a blessing. I’d have no one to remind me of what I’d left behind.

  Namely, the horrible break-up I had just endured with Damien.

  Which reminded me, he’d promised to put some money in my bank account. Damien had fallen behind with his share of the rent recently, so he’d offered to reimburse me for a fortnight’s worth. Apparently, he’d finally gotten paid from some job he’d done. He used to be a web designer, but had just switched over to being a search engine optimization specialist, because he claimed there was more money in it, with less work. From what I could gather, he charged people ridiculous amounts on the possibility that he might be able to improve their rankings on Google. It sounded a little scammy to me, but I didn’t know much about that kind of thing.

  I was lucky our lease was up just after we ended things, so we didn’t have to worry about finding new tenants, and we were able to go our separate ways without too much drama.

  I opened internet banking on my phone and logged in. It took a moment for me to register that my bank balance had indeed changed.

  Only in the complete wrong direction.

  I stared at the number for a moment. Surely that wasn’t right.

  I was overdrawn by six hundred dollars.

  Quickly flicking through the transactions, I saw that the final batch of rent had come out, but because I didn’t have enough in there beforehand, the rent had still been deducted, along with a bunch of fees.

  The question was, why didn’t I have enough money in there? I should have plenty to cover the rent, even if Damien didn’t come through (which, going by his previous record, I knew was a distinct possibility).

  I scrolled down a little further and gasped.

  There was a withdrawal for just over three thousand dollars yesterday. That was all the money I had in the world. I got paid monthly from my job at a bank in Brisbane, and I’d only just received a paycheck—and I didn’t have any other savings, because I’d been propping up Damien for so long. Before he got into SEO, he’d only worked one or two web jobs a month, and his clients were often unhappy with the quality of work he provided and didn’t want to pay.

  A year ago, I’d had fifteen grand saved for a house deposit, but that had dwindled down to nothing in the last couple of months.

  I knew it had to be Damien who withdrew the money. It had vaguely occurred to me to change all my account passwords after we broke up, but I didn’t think he would actually steal from me.

  I quickly called him.

  “The number you have entered has been temporarily disconnected, changed, or is no longer in service.”

  Shit.

  At least because I worked for a bank, I knew the procedures to follow. I phoned the stolen card line and had the operator cancel all my existing cards and organize new ones to be sent to my parents’ house. I also closed my savings account and opened a new one with a password Damien would never guess. It was lucky this was an all-expenses-paid cruise, otherwise I’d have no money for food or entertainment.

  I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere reclaiming the cash from Damien via the bank or police, because I had been stupid enough to give him access to my account while we were together. The only way to possibly get it back was to confront him in person.

  It was at that moment the ship moved. I was now stuck for several days. We were due to stop in Jamaica on day three, but with no cards and an empty bank account, I wouldn’t even be able to book a new flight from there and go home.

  Damn it.

  I was broke. My ex-boyfriend had screwed me over.

  And I was on the other side of the world, inadvertently part of a singles cruise.

  It couldn’t get much worse than that.

  I downed my drink in two mouthfuls and quickly ordered another one. I was just making my way back to my seat near the railing when a hand grabbed my arm.

  “You’ve got to help me,” a tall, thin blonde begged.

  “Why? What happened?” I looked around, concerned.

  “In a moment, a woman is going to show up and try to expose me. You have to tell her you’re my rehab nurse and you authorized me to come aboard this cruise as long as you accompanied me. Okay?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Sorry, what?”

  “I’ll explain everything later, but I really need you to do this for me right now. Otherwise my career will be over.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, squinting at her.

  She looked as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I wish this stupid disguise worked as well on Zara as it seems to work with you.”

  I didn’t know what she meant by disguise. She looked like a normal person to me, albeit in a vaguely glamorous, heroin chic kind of way. I placed her at around the same age as me.

  “What disguise?” I asked.

  She lifted the big sunglasses shielding her eyes. “Do you recognize me now?”

  I really didn’t. I shook my head.

  “Oh, wait. You’ve got an accent. You’re not from the US, are
you?” she asked.

  “No, I’m from Australia.”

  “That makes sense. Hmm. Okay. Quick. Show me your American accent.”

  “I can’t.”

  She huffed and rummaged around in her handbag before producing a stack of bills. She shoved them at me. “Here. This is a thousand dollars. If you pretend to be my American rehab nurse for five minutes, it’s yours.”

  My eyes bulged. “Why are you carrying around all that money?”

  “There’s no time to explain.” She seemed to see something that freaked her out, so she shoved the money in my handbag and turned to face someone. A woman with red hair and narrow eyes approached us. She stepped right up to the woman beside me and pulled at her hair, revealing dark wavy locks beneath what I now realized was a wig.

  “I thought so!” she said triumphantly. “Well, if it isn’t Ms. Jamila Castro out in the wild. Shouldn’t you be in rehab?”

  Jamila shot me one last pleading look and then stared at the woman, readjusting the wig in the process. “Zara. How were you allowed onboard? I thought they had a no-animals policy on this ship.”

  She laughed, but not in a nice way. “Spicy as always, I see. I’m a paying customer like everyone else.”

  “How convenient that you just happened to be on this exact cruise.”

  Zara frowned. “You think I booked the same trip as you just to make your life hell?”

  “Uh, yeah. That’s exactly what I think.”

  Zara seemed to consider the idea for a moment and laughed. “You’re right. I would do something like that. But in this case, it was just an unfortunate, or should I say, fortunate coincidence. Besides, I assume you haven’t told anyone you’re here. How would I have found out?”

  “I don’t know. Snakes like you seem to find out anything they put their mind to.”

  “Well, this time, I didn’t know there was anything to find out until I saw you. And you didn’t answer my question. Why aren’t you in rehab?”

  “If you must know, I’m completing my treatment here on the ship.” She turned to me. “This is my nurse, Nina.”