Read Online Diamonds Are a Teen's Best Friend by Allison Rushby - Free Book Online

– a week ago I would have had a good laugh at this one), having to call off her wedding and everything (again). How awful would that be? To make matters worse, she truly thought she’d found the right guy this time. She says she knew they were having problems, but kept pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind because she wanted everything to be perfect. She wanted, with all her heart, to have found the perfect man. ‘PM’, she calls him. Perfect Man. And they’d have the perfect wedding and buy the perfect house and have the most perfect babies. But, as it turned out, she didn’t have the perfect man. He wasn’t even close. Obviously,she didn’t have the perfect pool cleaner either. (Strangely enough, she seemed more than a little upset about the pool cleaner. Apparently it’s hard to find a good one in LA.)
    I listen to Holly’s tale of woe over and over again. Sometimes she cries about it, sometimes she throws pillows and magazines at the wall about it, sometimes she tries to reason it all out. And, as I listen, it only cements further in my mind what I already know: I’ve been put on this ship for a reason. It’s no coincidence that I know everything there is to know about Marilyn Monroe and that Holly belted out her Dorothy line in reply to my Lorelei line as we were boarding the ship. We were meant to meet because Holly needs me. So I’ve got a job to do here. I have to help Holly out. I have got to help her find the right guy. There won’t be any more broken engagements. No more heartbreak. Holly deserves to find PM this time around, and I’m going to find him for her.
    Here’s hoping he’s on this ship.
    But, no. Of course he is. Why else would fate bring us together and then not plant the perfect guy on the ship? Yes. He’s definitely here, no doubt about it. Now, all we’ve got to do is meet every guy on board in order to flush him out. Right. So how are we going to do that?
    From: ‘NJM’
To: ‘Alexa Milton’
Subject: Brain on holiday
    Help! My brain’s seen the quoits deck and swim-up bar and thinks it’s on vacation! I’m supposed to be trying to figure out ways for Holly to meet every eligible guy on the ship, so she can finally meet PM (Perfect Man), fall in perfect love, have the perfect wedding and pop out perfect babies, but I’m coming up with … nothing. Any ideas?
    Nessaxxx
    I finish typing my email, press send, then log off, snapping Sugar Kane shut with a click . That done, I continue lying on my stomach on my bed for a good half-hour, coming up with … again, nothing. In the end, I decide it’s just not going to happen this afternoon and drag myself up off the bed. I fix my hair, put on a bit of lip gloss and head up and out onto the top deck of the ship for a stroll. Maybe the sea air will help me think a bit better. (Nothing could help me think worse, that’s for sure.)
    Up on the top deck, it’s quite windy and, because of this, not many people are around. The hard core are stillout in force – power walking around the track, their little hand weights helping to work off that third pancake they had at breakfast. (Meanwhile, their stomachs are thinking about what time morning tea ends and lunch starts. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. My stomach’s discovered untapped sources of greed this trip as well.) There are a few other people braving the weather along with the power walkers, escaping from one thing or another, and a few couples scattered near the bow, enjoying the peace and quiet, looking out to sea.
    I go to take a turn around the deck myself when I see him peeking around from a pile of deckchairs, not too far in front of me. The ship’s photographer. The tall skinny guy who’d taken the photo of Holly and me on our respective sun lounges the other day, which I totally forgot to go and check out – damn! Thinking I’ve missed out, I race up to him and practically bowl him