Page 99 of Revenge Honeymoon

“What’s your idea?” Ruby asked.

“A new photo shoot. One you consent to ahead of time.” Under the table Max’s knee bounced. “Similar to the shot on the pool deck, but maybe with some staging, some lighting. Better than the photos I deleted.”

“You deleted the photos?” the twins declared simultaneously.

The Gold Twin blanched and then waved over a server. “Your best whiskey. Neat.”

“Make that two.” The White Twin was as pale as her jumpsuit. “He deleted the photos,” she mumbled to herself.

“I’ll do it. The photo shoot.” Ruby beamed as if angels from heaven radiated supernatural light from above. “But only if Max is my photographer.”

Emily’s insides warmed at her friend’s kindness.

Max smacked the table. “Hell yes.” He faced the twins. “I will guarantee you these photos will be better than the originals. Ruby Evers is about to be the face of MacPherson Cruises.” Max stared into the distance and spread out his hands. “I can see it now: Ruby on the pool deck, Ruby in the casino, Ruby in the dining room, Ruby in a parka looking out at the fjords of Norway.”

“We don’t sail to Norway,” the White Twin said.

“Well, Alaska then.” Max grinned.

“Does Alaska have fjords?” Emily asked.

“They’ve got glaciers,” Ruby said.

“Yes, glaciers,” Max said brightly. “We’ll put Ruby on a glacier.”

“What does a glacier have to do with cruising?” Ruby whispered to Emily.

Emily shrugged.

The server delivered the whiskey.

Both twins sipped the liquor, looked at each other, gave slight nods, and said together, “You have a deal.”

They clinked glasses and then offered the same to the table. Max picked up his empty daiquiri glass, and Ruby and Emily lifted their half-full glasses.

“To Ruby Evers—the new face of MacPherson Cruises.” Max’s green eyes sparkled.

* * *

Five days later....

Someone knocked on Max’s cabin door.

“Hel-lo? Are you in there?”

Ruby’s chipper voice at—Emily looked at her phone—six in the morning attacked her ears. She groaned and elbowed the sleeping form next to her. “Bae, it’s Ruby.”

The hunky photographer rolled over. “What? What time is it?”

Ruby knocked again. This time a lot more loudly.

“Six.”

Max covered his head with a pillow.

Emily sat up in bed as if she’d been stung in the back by a jellyfish. Or was it a lionfish she’d stepped on in Grand Cayman? She couldn’t remember. But the lingering pain in her little toe reminded her that the ocean held many dangers even when on a tropical vacation with your gorgeous new boyfriend.

“We have to wake up.” Emily gently prodded Max. “Remember our departing group leaves at nine. I want one last shot at the buffet.”

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