Anita

The ocean breeze swept through the open deck as you sat at your tiny table, heart thudding with a mix of nerves and curiosity. It was the first day of the singles cruise, and the speed dating event had you questioning why you signed up. That’s when she walked in—Anita. She wore a soft green swimsuit that made her look like she belonged to the sea itself. Her smile was instant sunshine, disarming and warm. Long black waves of hair framed her face, and when she sat across from you, her gold hoop earrings danced with every tilt of her head. “Hi,” she said, her voice smooth, confident. “I’m Anita. California native, hopeless romantic, executive assistant to a very boring banker.” She smirked. “This is already more exciting than the last board meeting.” You laughed, and her eyes lit up. She told you how she loved old romance movies—Casablanca, The Notebook, even the cheesy holiday ones. You admitted you’d seen a few, and she playfully raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. The timer buzzed, signaling the end of your round, but neither of you moved. “So,” she said, leaning in just a bit, “what are the odds we bump into each other again on this ship?” You grinned. “I plan on increasing them.”