Page 11 of Sinful Escape

The day Azalia had tossed her bag onto the bunk above me on the cruise ship we worked on was the best day of my life. She was a freak though; sometimes I wondered if she could read my mind.

I’m fine

Fine. Hmmm, let me guess. Oh, it’s the first day of the month. Asshole boss or new driver?

Wow, am I that predictable?

Yes. Now spill it. Which one is it?

“Who are you texting?”

I jumped at Roman’s voice.

“Your mamma?”

“What? No.” I shot him a horrified glare. “Why would you think that?”

He jerked back. “Okay, so not your mamma. With most women it’s either their madre, partner, or bestie. I took a gamble.”

“Yeah, well, you gambled the wrong way.”

“Okay. Jeez. What’s her name?”

“Who?”

“Your friend.” He wobbled his head like I was an idiot.

“Oh. Azalia.”

“Azalia and Daisy. Two flowers. That’s funny.”

It surprised me that he knew what an Azalia was. Interesting. I glanced away from him to my buzzing phone.

Kane just puked all over me, so give me something to escape this shit

Sorry, babe, new driver. Never shuts up

Arghhh. Tell me about him

“Tell me about her,” Roman said. “Where’d you meet?”

Jeez. I’ve fallen into a rabbit hole.

Roman fluttered his long lashes in a move that I’m sure impressed most women.

I’m not like most women. “When I first left Australia, I worked on a cruise ship, the Sea Dancer. We shared a cabin.”

“That sounds so cool.”

My phone buzzed.

Waiting!

Sorry. He’s Italian

Italian! So . . . tall dark and handsome. Or hairy and fat

I burst out laughing.

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