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“And you think this could send you mainstream?” Joel asked, a little skeptically. Conor shrugged again.
“Maybe, maybe not. At the end of the day, it’s win-win for me. Worst-case scenario, nothing happens and I’m back to my regular subscribers. Best-case scenario, the show really breaks out and I get a talk show.”
I nodded slowly. His logic made sense.
“What about you, then?” he asked. “What brings you to the island?”
“Oh, we’re just along for the ride.” I indicated Joel. “We’re both academics. It was our partners who wanted to come.”
“That’s right.” Conor looked like he was remembering something, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”
I groaned.
“No, I’m fucking not. I’ve got a PhD in virology, but I’m not a medical doctor. So please don’t be expecting me to fix any broken legs while we’re out there.”
“Gotcha,” Conor said. He grinned again, his teeth very white in the bright sunlight. “No broken legs.”
“Joel!” The voice was sharp, and we all turned our heads to see Romi stalking along the deck. She had changed into the world’s smallest white crochet bikini, a huge sunhat that was threatening to blow away in the stiff breeze, and teetering platform sandals that didn’t look like the best idea as the ship pitched and rolled. “Joel, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You said you’d meet me at the hot tub.”
“I didn’t,” Joel said mildly, but with a touch of testiness in his voice. “You said you were going to the hot tub.”
“Well, whatever, I’ve been waiting for you for hours. I couldn’t even text you.”
I suppressed a smile at that. Joel had handed in his devices not ten minutes before, so it was hard to take her complaints too seriously. I tried to break the tension with a laugh.
“I guess we’ve got to get used to that, haven’t we?”
“Got to get used to what?” It was Nico, strolling along the deck wearing a pair of swimming shorts and a towel slung over his shoulder.
“Being without our phones,” I said, but Romi had already turned to Nico and was speaking over the top of me.
“Hey, you’re Nico, right? Did I see you on Holby City?”
It was the right question, and Nico instantly turned the full beam of his charming smile on Romi and regaled her with the details of his acting CV, while she gazed up at him, batting her lashes in a way that was frankly a little OTT. I wasn’t bothered—I could tell she was only doing it to punish Joel for chatting to me instead of meeting her at the hot tub—but it was a puzzling contrast to her hostility to Joel.
“Shall we talk about this at the hot tub?” she was asking. “I’d love to hear how you got into acting.”
“Of course,” Nico said earnestly. “Lyla, are you coming?”
I smiled and shook my head.
“Thanks, but I can’t think of anything worse in this heat.”
“Guys?” Nico turned to Conor and Joel.
“Maybe later; I need to find Zana,” Conor said. Nico nodded, and then he and Romi made their way up the deck. As they rounded the corner, I saw Romi put her hand on his arm, and then throw back her head and laugh at something he’d said.
“You’ve got a live one there, mate,” Conor said dryly, and Joel sighed.
“She’s pissed off at me. I’m not sure why. This whole Perfect Couple thing was her idea—but somehow nothing I do is right anymore. I don’t earn enough, I don’t compliment her enough, I don’t support her career enough… I don’t know what she wants anymore. I’m kind of worried—”
He stopped, seeming to think better of what he’d been about to say.
“Go on,” Conor said. His voice was… curious. Sympathetic. Joel looked down at the ground.
“I guess… it’s like… you know these things have a formula? All these preset types they’re casting for.”
I didn’t, but I nodded.
