Victoria wasn’t in the mood for any shit. “If you’d rather, you’re welcome to phone a lawyer from the county jail.”
Peyton rolled her eyes.
“Victoria wasn’t the one who broke your agreement,” Britt said. “You were.”
“You really think this is going to make this whole cruise top-secret?” Peyton looked at them, but picked up the pen. “You can’t enforce a gag order on everyone.”
“True enough,” Mark answered, “but they can make an example of you, and show any would-be copycats what happens if they attempt to transmit during subsequent cruises.”
Acting as if she hadn’t heard Mark, Peyton narrowed her eyes on Victoria. “What have you been crying about, anyway?”
Certainly not brokenhearted by your betrayal, you little snit. “That’s personal, and since you can’t be trusted, you’ll never know. So where’s your blog post?” Victoria held out her hand.
Peyton got busy signing both copies of the document. “There. And here’s the blog copy.” She shoved a handwritten page across the desk toward Victoria. “Can I go now?”
“You should take a copy of the contract, which Victoria and I have to sign,” Britt said. “But only after ascertaining your post meets my specified criteria. Also, you’ll be uploading it with the iPad, since you’ve demonstrated such skill in doing so.”
“Why don’t you guys leave us alone while I review this,” Victoria suggested. Let Peyton sit in silence while she read. That dead-air time worked wonders when trying to get somebody to open up, and she still had some questions for the aspiring journalist.
Britt tipped his head and gave her a wry grin. “Very well. We’ll be outside if you need us.”
She pretended to ignore Peyton, and read the handwritten page:
FCS unloading? Can’t be right!
She’s not due at port until tonight.
She docked in early morning,
So Paps would get no warning.
Yep, you read right–FCS Aphrodite snuck into port nearly nine hours ahead of schedule this AM, giving the passengers and temp crew the drop on any media out to nab some sweet deets about the trip. And it was totally planned. In fact, our prince helicoptered out last night to avoid all the hubbub. Passengers were welcome to stay aboard ’til the scheduled docking time, but it sounds like most of the “somebodies” bugged out via chopper at the buttcrack of dawn.
And Gritty Gossip Girl has some disheartening news to report: Victoria and Brett are quite disgustingly unified in marriage, business goals, and yes, even sex. It’s an impressive couple who can stay together and not be tempted to play separately when working amid intense sexual stimulation.
In some ways, this ship is very much the Love Boat–at least for the Grants and their friends, as well as several other couples whose hookups on this cruise became deep and lasting–at least for now.
Alas, not for G-G-Girl. I’ll leave here alone, the way I arrived.
With that, I’ll leave you and go pack my glittery vibrators, myriad of Lay-Techs condoms and lube tubes.
Until tomorrow,
G-G-Girl
Victoria continued on, pretending to read while sneaking a peak at Peyton. Squirming. Good. That meant her nerves had kicked in. Maybe she’d be more willing to talk.
Laying the paper on the table, she asked calmly, “Who talked you into this?”
Peyton crossed her arms over her chest. “What, you don’t think I could do this on my own?”
She stared back at her. Active listening. It would work.
Peyton shrugged. “It took some planning, but after meeting you at the interview, all that talk about confidentiality, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“And how would you benefit from blogging about this cruise?”
“Followers equals advertising, equals dollars. College isn’t free, you know.”
Advertisers might be attracted and pay in the future, but they weren’t a sure thing. Somebody had to have given her money upfront to do this. “If you told me who helped you get the iPad onboard, I could have this contract modified. Say…drop the clause where you owe us for the cruise.”
Peyton’s face wasn’t nearly as cute with a sneer. “I already avoid paying for the cruise by signing the gag agreement.”
“So what would make it worthwhile for you?” If a crew member had set Peyton up to blog, they’d set up someone else on the next cruise, too.
Peyton seemed to think it over, but eventually shook her head. “Look, can I just have my iPad so I can do the upload and go?”
Her iPad? Not bloody likely. “You can do the upload, but we’ll be researching the device’s ownership. If it turns out to be yours, I’ll see that it gets back to you.” And she hadn’t denied there’d been a helper.