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I clear my throat. I’m ridiculous. “The inaugural cruise all over the news?”

“Yes, it’s a mess.” She sighs. “We’ve backfilled most of the openings, but I still need a psychiatrist. I needyou.”

“Me? On a cruise? Why do you need a psychiatrist?” I deflect. “No way. I have patients to see.”

“The cruise will be The Orchid on water, which means we’ll have our version of the Rose floors aboard. You know how it is…sex, kinks, consensual dubious situations. Feelings getting involved. Plus, our patrons expect top medical care at all our facilities. So, it makes sense to have a psychiatrist who specializes in talk therapy. You know how rare that is.”

I do know. Most psychiatrists focus on the medicine aspect of treatment, referring the talk therapy to therapists. But I prefer to be a one-stop shop. This way, I have all the facts.

I control all parts of the treatment plan.

Lana directs her doe-like eyes at me. “Please, Olivia. We’ll make it worth your while. We’ll set up state-of-the-art videoconferencing so you can still do your thing. We need someone we trust, and with you being Maxwell’s doctor, well…that carries weight.”

She leans down and clasps my shoulders. “We need you.”

“You look like that Uncle Sam poster right now.” I imagine her in a top hat, pointing a finger at me. I snicker. I really should sleep more—I’m getting delirious.

“Imagine this. Crystal blue waters, swimming in Mykonos, white buildings and blue roofs dotting the horizon, exploring gothic castles and forts in Dubrovnik, burning sculptures in Valencia, stuffing your face with the best spaghetti in Tuscany—”

Burning sculptures in Valencia.

My heart palpitates, and I grip her wrist. “Hold on, rewind. Burning sculptures? Are you talking about Las Fallas Festival?”

Her slate-gray eyes light up. “Yes! Sanctioned, controlled destruction. Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, right? It’s amazing…”

I don’t hear her anymore. All I can hear are the words Las Fallas Festival.

“Live for me. Promise me, Olive. When you’re thirty, do it for me. Go to Valencia. Experience Las Fallas for me. Burn our regrets. Don’t stop living because of me.”

“Olivia, do me a solid?” Lana shakes me.

The promise I made to Mia echoes in my mind.

No. I can’t drop everything and go. It’d be irresponsible. I have patients. I need to figure out the ADAS funding. I’m so busy, I can’t even eat on time. No way. There’s no way I can do this—

“We’ll talk later. You don’t need to decide right now.” Lana peers at me. “Just think about it, okay?”

She pats my shoulder, and we enter Ladies’ Lounge.

Our feet come to an abrupt halt.

The lounge is turned upside down as The Orchid staff pushes furniture against the walls. I clock the lighting, cameras, and equipment with more knobs and buttons than I can count.

“I have to be dreaming because this definitely isn’t brunch.” Yes, dreaming would make more sense than the idea of me going on a cruise. “Go back to sleep, Olivia. Then you can finish your six patient files, insurance peer reviews, ADAS emails—”

“She’s talking to herself. The shrink needs to be shrunk,” someone whispers.

Redhead. Sly grin. Alexis Vaughn—no—Alexis Anderson, now that she married Ethan.

“Psst. That’s old slang and derogatory. Doctor. Psychiatrist. Use the right title.” Lana snickers.

A handyman hammers a nail into the faux-stage.Definitely not sleepwalking.“Okay, I give up. What’s going on? This is one of Alexis’s items, isn’t it? She lured us in with drinks and gossip and now we’re pawns for her bucket list.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” Alexis exclaims. “Aren’t unexpected surprises the best?”

No. Definitely not. I like to-do lists and plans. Preferably months in advance.

“Surprises, by definition, are unexpected, Lexy,” I reply.