Page 32 of Total Dreamboat

Hope

I’m disoriented—yanked abruptly from dappled, abstract morning dreams to Felix’s voice urgently saying my name.

I can see that something is wrong—very wrong—but I have no idea what. Only that he’s holding his phone up to my face, his fingers trembling and his jaw so taut it reminds me of a slingshot.

“Hmm?” I say sleepily, scrunching my eyes together and then apart to try to make out what’s on the phone.

Blearily, I see that it’s one of Lauren’s Instagram posts.

“Did you think I wasn’t going to find out about this?” he asks quietly.

I truly have no idea what he’s talking about. Lauren posts like ten videos a day, and I barely use social media.

I sit up. “What’s going on?”

“Play it,” he says, handing me his phone. “Right now.”

I tap the reel, and watch.

My confusion quickly turns into disbelief at her words: “I’m going with my bestie and we are going to find us some wealthy husbands, baby!” I jolt up. And then “Gold Digger” starts playing, and all I feel is panic.

Why is she including me in this? What is she thinking ?

Felix is staring at me intently. “Keep scrolling,” he says.

With horror, I tap through her chronicle of the past week.

I see photos of me tagged with brand names, like I’m some kind of influencer too.

And then I see Felix.

I read the caption.

I feel ill.

But not as ill as Felix looks.

It dawns on me that it isn’t Lauren that he’s disgusted with.

It’s me .

“I didn’t know about this!” I sputter, because my brain is a kinetic mess of fear and I can barely formulate a thought. “She’s not allowed to post about me.”

Felix looks at me with searching eyes.

“It’s not the posts that are the issue though, is it, Hope? It’s what you’re apparently here for.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” I say as calmly as I can. I get why he’s upset by this. But he knows me. “Please, I understand how this looks,” I say. “But will you just let me explain?”

He sighs. “Please.”

“This is not—” I begin, but I have trouble speaking coherently.

I try again. “This gold digger stuff is just Lauren’s schtick.

It’s a bit. She’s a reality star. She’s only half serious.

And it has nothing to do with me. I had no idea she even posted this.

She’s not supposed to put me in her videos. Let alone you .”

He closes his eyes, pained.

I sit up, pulling the blanket with me to avoid exposing my breasts.

“You know me,” I say. “Do you really think this tracks with my personality?”

“I want to believe you,” he says. “I really do. But there are pages and pages of this shit. You’re all over it. She’s your best friend. There is no reason for her to deliberately make you look terrible.”

Yeah, there’s not. And I can’t fathom why she’s done this. But I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I need to salvage this.

“Felix,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I came on this cruise because I wanted a fresh start. I wanted to clear my head. I didn’t want to be alone in New York all summer depressed about my breakup and my parents getting divorced. Not because I’m trying to find a sugar daddy.”

He winces at the words sugar daddy .

“Again, why would she say this about you if it weren’t true?” he asks. “And why in the fucking hell would she include me?”

“I have no idea. Probably because she thinks we’re cute and thought it would make good content. I’m so sorry. I could fucking murder her.”

He says nothing.

It begins to dawn on me that he doesn’t believe me.

“My God, just ask her,” I say. “She’ll back me up.”

“I’m sure she’ll say whatever you want her to,” he says. “That’s the whole point of this exercise, isn’t it? To tell them what they want to hear?” He laughs darkly. “And it worked, didn’t it.”

I stare at him in disbelief. I can’t believe he thinks so little of my character. That after everything we’ve done and shared, he would trust a few Instagram posts over me. That he would even entertain the idea I’ve faked everything I’ve felt for him over the past week. And for money .

“You really think I’m a con artist?” I erupt. “We’ve spent an entire week together. I confided in you. I slept with you. That’s it . That’s my crime. Wanting to spend time with you. A guy who apparently sees me as some desperate broke girl trying to find a meal ticket.”

He laughs humorlessly. “So you can imagine how I feel, having told my entire raw, dark, barely behind me past and all my shaky dreams to someone who likes me for what’s in my bank account.

” He inhales deeply. “I don’t want to say something I’ll regret,” he says with an icy politeness that only a British person could pull off.

“So I’m just going to say that I find this upsetting, and I’d like you to leave. ”

His tone feels like a punch to the gut.

“Okay. Wow. If that’s what you think of me, we’re done,” I say. “This is done.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I think it is.”

I pull the duvet around me, stand up, and start collecting my clothing. I go into the bathroom to change.

When I come out, he’s gone.

Which means it’s safe to start crying.

I sob as I walk back to my suite.

“Hopie!” Lauren chirps from the bedroom when she hears me come in. “You’re back! I have so much to tell you. Come snuggle.”

The sound of her voice makes me cry harder.

“Wait, are you crying?” she calls.

She rushes into the room clad in a gauzy blush maxi dress that swirls around her legs.

“Jesus, Hope,” she says, doing a double take that would be comical if I weren’t verging on hysteria. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Your Instagram posts!” I shout.

She chews her lip. “Oh. The ones with you in them?”

“ Yes , the ones with me in them.”

She winces. “Sorry. I was going to tell you about them once we got off the cruise.”

“Why the fuck would you post that stuff?”

“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise. Because you know how you’re always feeling guilty about borrowing money? I thought I would tag you in some sponsored posts. That way we’re even and you can let it go. In fact, now I owe you money.” She smiles reassuringly at me.

My anger at her abruptly stops my tears. “So you decided to make me look like a gold digger on the internet for ad dollars? Do you hear yourself?”

“Well, I have to stick to the brand messaging. I mean, you work in PR, you know how it works. But it’s cute. All my followers are rooting for you!”

“Oh how wonderful. I’ve gone viral as a conniving sugar baby. Thanks so much.”

She looks confused. “You know it’s not serious. Most of my followers are in on the joke anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you know who isn’t? Felix. Who you also posted without his permission. How did you not think this through, Lauren?”

Her face wrinkles in distress. “Hopie, don’t be mad. I was just trying to do something nice. I didn’t realize you’d be upset.”

“No? Felix literally kicked me out of his room when he saw these.”

She gasps. “Sorry? He did what now?”

“You heard me!”

“What a fucking asshole.”

“ You’re the asshole,” I cry, even though I agree with her. “You made me look like I was targeting him in a fucking scam.”

“Okay, you can’t talk to me like that. You’re my best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend,” I retort. “But it turns out I’m just the sidekick you use as fodder for clicks.”

Her mouth drops open.

“Whoa, hold on. I admit I fucked up but you know it wasn’t malicious. You know me,” she cries.

The same words I used on Felix.

And she’s right.

I can be angry, but I’m not going to treat her like he treated me. Whatever she intended, it was not to hurt me.

“Okay, Lauren, yeah. I know you. But I’m unraveling here.”

She comes closer and takes my hands in both of hers. “Baby, why are you this upset?”

“Because Felix is the first person I’ve liked in months,” I erupt, pulling my hands away from her. “And now he hates me.”

“Look, again, I fucked up, okay?” she says. “I wish to God I hadn’t done it. But honey,” she makes her voice soft and gentle. “I knew you were so stressed about money and I just wanted to help. I want you to be happy.”

I know, deep down, that Lauren means what she says. I trust her. We’ve loved each other too long and hard for it not to be unconditional.

But I still think her judgment was deranged, and I’m not ready to be over it yet.

“I need some space,” I say. “I’m going to breakfast.”

I turn around and walk out of the room without even bothering to wash my face or change out of my pajamas. I need carb therapy. Immediately.

I grab a plate as soon as I reach the buffet and start piling it with pastries. I’m not even going to pretend I’m interested in balancing them out with fruit or yogurt. I’m scanning the room for an open table when I hear my name.

I look over to see Gabe standing and waving at me.

And he’s with his grandmother.

Gabe approaches me with a huge smile that contains no acknowledgment of the fact that I literally fled from him the last time I saw him. “Good morning!” he says. “Gran and I just sat down. Come join us.”

Maeve is looking at me expectantly from the table.

I don’t have an elegant out.

But there’s no way I can do this.

I cram the rest of my muffin into my mouth.

“Sorry, I have to go,” I say. “Give Maeve my best.”

But before I can flee, Gabe waves at someone over my shoulder.

I turn, and it’s Felix. He nods and walks past, looking at the two of us in something like bitter amusement.

Fantastic. Now I’m sure he has concluded I was lying about Gabe too.

I want to cry again.

“Is something wrong, Hope?” Gabe asks. “You seem upset.”

“No,” I say. “But I don’t want to be late for my excursion.” A lie. I have no intention of going through with the day’s plan of swimming with the pigs with Felix and his sisters. Another thing that he’s ruined.

I really wanted to see those pigs.

“I owe you an apology,” Gabe says. “For karaoke. I was hoping to charm you. I can see it didn’t land.”

If there is one silver lining to the events of this morning, it is that I don’t have any patience for bullshit from men. I do not want Gabe’s apology or his attention.

Felix was right about one thing: he doesn’t deserve me.

Neither of them do.

I need to get away from them. I need to get away from every single person on this boat.

I rush to my room, throw on a bathing suit and a sundress, and go directly to the gangway.

The instant I step down onto the pier in Nassau, I run toward solid ground.