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one that keeps telling me all press is good press.”
    “Not this kind,” Jane said.
     

 

     
    “What do you mean, not this kind of reporter?” Casey turned away from Mason and hissed the words into the phone. “You said we’d keep this quiet and I could have some time away from those vultures.”
    “Well, sweetie, that was the plan, but you know how these reporters can be. They get just a hint of a story and they’re flying off to Timbuktu. Or in your case, the Port of Miami and a cruise ship.”
    “You mean one of them followed me on board?” Taking a few steps farther away from Mason, Casey said, “Tell me this wasn’t part of your plan, Jane.”
    She heard the muffled sound of papers being rustled in the background.
    “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
    Casey tried to put steel into her voice while still whispering into the phone. “Tell me you didn’t set this whole thing up. That you didn’t set me up with a paid escort and then leak the whole thing to the press. Tell me you didn’t hope a reporter would follow me down here, hoping to catch a picture of Miss Romance’s latest fling. Tell me you didn’t hope my ‘new love’ would dim the rumors Nate started.”
    Silence came over the line.
    “Jane. Tell me you didn’t do this.”
    Another rustling of papers, and then Jane said, “Well, I had your best interests at heart. You know the motto. All press is good press. I thought you’d relax, have a good time, and by the time you got back everyone would have moved from the break-up to your next book. I didn’t leak your whereabouts, Case. Pinkie swear.”
    Casey dragged a deep breath of air into her lungs. Jane’s brilliant plan was backfiring all over the Caribbean. She should have signed up for that twelve-day trek with the dude ranch in Arizona. Turning to Mason, who was still loitering in the passage a few feet away, Casey pulled the cell phone from her ear and covered the mouthpiece.
    “This is going to take a few minutes. Can I meet you up on deck?”
    He tapped his watch and smiled. “Six o’clock. We have a date.” Then he disappeared into the elevator and she was alone. She huffed out a breath and put the phone back to her ear.
    “If you set this whole thing up, why all the dramatics? Why tell me there’s horrible news, that a reporter followed me if they’re just going to tell the story of my new and fake rebound relationship?”
    More silence greeted her question and she rubbed her free hand hard against her forehead. Just what was she missing?
    Finally, Jane said, “My sources tell me the paper isn’t just after your rebound guy. They don’t want your happy new romance. Ever since that headline from News Daily hit the stands, my phone has been ringing off the hook. Everyone wants the dirt on your break-up with Nate. They sent a real ace down there, some guy who busts politicians all the time. I couldn’t get his name, but he’s on board. You have to make this thing with the escort look really good.”
    Casey wanted to bang her head against the wall. Wanted to jump into one of the lifeboats and begin drifting aimlessly at sea. Pressing her right thumb and fingers to her temples she sighed at the last vestiges of control over her life slipping into the ocean.
    Damn Nate anyway.
    “Why can’t I just tell this reporter my side of the story? That Nate is leaking these stupid rumors out there and there’s no truth to them?”
    “Because this guy busts people on the front page for kicks. You can’t prove Nate is either leaking the rumors or that he’s lying about them. Your side of the story will sound like a pitiful attempt to bolster your own confidence. Add the escort to that and you’ll look like a desperate woman. Your readers want a confident, sexy, give-life-everything woman to give them advice. Not a woman who has to hire her lovers.”
    Casey wanted to scream. She hadn’t hired the escort. This was all Jane’s stupid idea. Why couldn’t she