by Kim Linwood
“Hunter?”
“Hm?”
“Why isn’t Sarah here?” she asks quietly, eyes on the screen.
Fuck. “You won, fair and square.”
“I know, but, like you said, don’t take this the wrong way. The rest of us could vanish tomorrow and you’d never notice.”
I sit up, automatically on the defensive. Both because I’ve tried hard to be fair, and because I don’t like that I’m so obvious. “Sarah isn’t the only one that’s won. I’ve spent time with—”
Megan holds up a hand. “I know. You’ve been great with everybody, but we aren’t blind. When you look at Sarah, it’s different. The show has been fun, but anyone who paid attention knew where it was going to end. Then tonight... what happened?”
My silence crushes the ease of our conversation. I grip the bottle I’m holding so hard my fingers slip on the condensation.
She swings her feet down to the floor. “Right... I’ll just go, I guess.”
Great, now I feel like an asshole. “No, stay. I should be the one to go. Shit happened, like it always does. Sarah and I, we have a history. Not dating or anything, but it’s complicated.”
“People usually are.”
“More than usual,” I say with an amused snort. “We thought—I thought at least—that it wouldn’t matter, but maybe that was stupid.”
“Do you love her?”
Do I? I’ve been trying not to think about it too closely. All I know is, when I picture living here after the show is over, she’s here too. Sunning on the terrace. Exploring the jungle. Sleeping in my bed. The thought of her flying away and never coming back is... inconceivable.
She’s worth risking my heart for.
Is that love?
My role models haven’t exactly been reliable.
“I don’t know.”
She gets up to leave, putting a small hand on my shoulder as she passes. “Maybe that’s something you should think about.”
Liz
The flatiron sits on the counter, mocking me. It reminds me unpleasantly of my mother forcing me to sit for what felt like hours as she did her best to tame my curls. Ugh.
Screw it.
Who am I trying to fool anymore? I think more people on the island know my secret now than not. Curly hair is the least of my problems. Working the mousse through my damp locks, I grin at myself in the mirror. One step closer to being me again.
To going back to the real world.
My heart thuds dully in my chest. I’ll survive losing Hunter. I’ve done it once before, I can do it again. Once I’m home, I’ll have my job and the mess with Mom to take my mind off what an idiot I’ve been.
I wrap a towel around myself and step out of the bathroom. We flew back to the island first thing this morning, and nothing is scheduled for a while. Nobody has told me I have to leave yet, but I’m assuming it’s going to happen.
“I like the hair. It’s more you.” Hunter’s voice scares the crap out of me.
“What are you doing in here?” I clutch the top of the towel, holding it tight to keep from flashing him. “I’m almost packed.”
“I noticed.” He’s sitting on my bed, the soft mattress giving under his solid weight. Resting on the comforter beside him is a familiar yellowing square of parchment. “I’m sure I’ve got something you can put this in. Strange souvenir, but I guess the gift shop was closed. Suppose I should be grateful you’re going with sentiment instead of market value.”
“What are you doing in here?” I ask again, quietly.
Hunter sits there, so cool and composed it terrifies me. This is a man I don’t know. I’ve been playing with the grown-up version of the teenage boy I fell in love with, but this is the man he turned into.
He turns his head, locking me in place with his cold, blue eyes. “So that’s it then? You’re ready to go? Game over?”
“It was never a game.”
“Like hell it wasn’t.” He stands up, fists clenched at his sides. “Do you know what’s stupid? For a while, I thought I was playing with you, and I felt bad. The joke’s on me though, because you were playing a bigger game the whole time. You and my father.”
I shake my head, curls skimming my shoulders. “Me being here has nothing to do with him. I swear.”
He grimaces, obviously frustrated. “Liz, it’s over. You can stop pretending now.”
That’s it. “Sit down!” I point at the bed, unwilling to let this go any further. “You want to know why I’m here? I’ll tell you why I’m here. You won’t like it, but it has nothing to do with your father.”
He stands still, but I don’t back down. After what feels like an eternity of glaring at each other, he finally sits, his back ramrod straight.
“I want my island back.” I push my shoulders back and stand to my full height, what there is of it, and try to look as serious as I can in a towel with damp hair and no makeup. “Ownership is tied to my father’s family, and my mother had no right to transfer it to your father in the divorce. It should be mine.”
Hunter laughs. Honest to God, laughs. “And you learned this, what? Watching Judge Judy?”
I scowl and stomp over to the bed, flipping the map. “Read it while I get dressed. It’s all right there.” Grabbing the first clothes I find, I duck back into the bathroom. When I come back out, he’s holding the paper, a strange, somewhat sad look on his face. I have to catch his attention. “Well? It seems fairly clear to me.”
“Liz...”
“No! Don’t look at me like that.” My eyes burn, and I feel a tightness growing in my chest. “I know it’s not that easy. You probably have all sorts of lawyers, and I know I’m just some broke dental receptionist with a grudge, but it’s mine!”
Pity, not anger is written all over his chiseled face. “Whoever wrote this did seem to intend something like that,” he says carefully. “But Liz, trust me, I was very thorough when I bought the island from my father. You might get some local sympathy, but nothing about this”—he waves the map gently—“is legally binding anymore.”
“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” I snap, not really meaning it even as the words come out.
Hunter stands up and strides towards me. He pulls me into his chest and wraps his strong arms around my shoulders. I squeeze my eyes shut, hating that I’m too weak to pull away from what might be the last time he holds me like this.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry that our parents are assholes. I’m sorry we didn’t run into each other somewhere and fell in love like normal people.” He presses his lips against the top of my hair and my heart breaks. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t enough. That you want this more than you ever wanted me.”
I whimper as he pulls away, leaving me to my misery. I don’t open my eyes until the door clicks shut behind him. He’s gone.
The world gets blurry as tears well up. Curling up on my grandmother’s sofa, with the sounds of paradise floating in through the window, I cry.
None of it matters anymore.
Liz
It’s time to grow up.
I’m done blubbering into a dusty old pillow. Feeling sorry for myself won’t make anything better, or change the mess I’ve gotten myself into.
A cool towel over my eyes draws out a bit of the crying redness. Applying a little concealer, I do my best to hide how tired and splotchy I look. It won’t fool anyone, but it makes me feel a little better at least.
It’s anyone’s guess how much time I have left. Hunter’s dad might decide to squeeze as much dramatic footage out of my leaving as possible, or I might get a knock on my door and a quick trip off the island. I have to act fast. Once I’m gone, who knows if I’ll have a way to contact the outside world? All the losers have been stuffed into a resort somewhere so they can’t leak anything about the show, so I’m guessing my odds wouldn’t be good.
Just then the exact person I need passes by my room. “Danny, I need your help.” I catch Hunter’s butler—assistant, friend... whatever—and drag him i
nside.
He frowns, confused. “Miss?”
“Would it be possible to use the phone again? Or maybe, for the door to the room with the phone to happen to be unlocked?” I beam my best smile. “Please?”
“Sarah... the circumstances last time were very unusual. I can’t just let you—”
“It’s a family emergency.”
Danny’s eyes dart quickly at my door, obviously torn. “Emergency?”
“I swear, it has nothing to do with the show. You can stay the whole time if you want, and even check the number ahead of time.”
“You should really talk to Mr. Campbell. Senior, that is. I don’t have the authori—”
“That’s so not going to happen.” Time to put my cards on the table. “Look, you know who I am, right?”
His freckled complexion turns a cute shade of pink. “Well, yes.”
“Okay, then you know our history. It’s about my mother. If I asked Hunter’s dad a favor about my mom, he’d laugh in my face.” Or offer to put her out of her misery. I really don’t feel like finding out. The last day or so has been rough enough as it is.
“I don’t know...”
I bat my lashes at him, hoping they’re not too offset by the bloodshot eyes underneath.
“Oh, bloody hell. Alright. Come with me.” He slips out of the room like a ninja, with me on his heels. Instead of heading to the room with the phone, he leads me in the opposite direction, pulling me quickly into the room he’s sharing with Hunter. Closing the door quietly behind him, he grabs a phone off a dresser. “Here, use mine, but be quick about it.”
I take it automatically, though I’m distracted by the room. It takes my breath away. Hunter’s room. The master bedroom, now a full-fledged suite. Unlike most of the other rooms, it’s been completely remodeled. One whole wall is glass, opening out onto a balcony. Old wood details were kept, but it’s clean and white. Like the kitchen, it’s modern in a way I want to hate but can’t help love.
And Hunter is everywhere.
Danny clears his throat.
“Right, yeah. Of course.” I tear my eyes away from Hunter’s king sized bed and his things, casually strewn around the room. “It won’t take long.”
I dial Mom’s doctor, his secretary sending me through almost immediately for a change.
“Dr. Benson speaking.”
“Dr. Benson, this is Elizabeth Bissette. I got your message about my mother.”
“Ah, Ms. Bissette, I’m glad you called.”
The next ten minutes are the hardest conversation I’ve had with him since moving Mom into full time residence. She needs more than I can give her, but the money won’t last much longer at the rate it’s going out and that doesn’t look like it’s going to change anytime soon.
I arrange for her to be put on the waiting list for an outpatient program he’d once suggested to me. It feels like admitting we’re all just buying time until her liver gives out and she finally drinks herself to death, but I’ll be damned before I just give up.
When I hang up, my stomach is in knots, but there’s something nice about actually doing something. “Thank you.” I hand Danny his phone back. “I really appreciate you helping me.”
He looks at me, then throws his hands out, offering a hug. I hesitate a moment, but there’s nothing but compassion in his freckled face. I let him pull me in, appreciating his gentle arms around me, at least for these few moments.
“Does Hunter know?” His voice is quiet, a bit sad.
“About Mom? Not the specifics, no. And don’t tell him!” Oh, God. All I need is even more pity. “It’s not his problem.” Danny doesn’t look convinced. “Seriously, it’s my responsibility. I’ll handle it.”
The skeptical look on his face makes it obvious he doesn’t agree, but he lets it drop. He takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Is that it then? Was there anything else?”
“Just one more thing.” I swallow before continuing. “I know you and Hunter are close, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to talk to me right now, so maybe you can pass it on.”
I take a deep breath and tell him everything I learned in my talk with Amanda. All the suspicious things that have happened since the show started, about how Blaze made a deal with her to split the prize money at the end. I try not to throw Amanda under the bus. She might have screwed up, but that doesn’t make her a bad person. At least I don’t think so.
Maybe I’m just hoping that if it’s true for her, it’s true for me too.
Telling Hunter would be better, but that’s not going to happen. Still, I’ve messed up enough already. I don’t want yet another secret hanging over us if I leave.
No, when I leave.
Hunter
This had better fucking work.
It’s really hot on the terrace. The air’s damp and the scent of the flowers planted along the balustrade is so thick it’s cloying. I’m only wearing shorts, even just the thought of putting on a light shirt sounding way too fucking hot.
On the bright side, the girls have followed my example. Well, not topless, unfortunately—we might be on cable, but this isn’t HBO—but in bikini tops and wraparound skirts. They look great. Liz more than anyone, but maybe I’m biased.
Hell, even Dad has dressed down to a light-colored pair of slacks and a white short-sleeved collared shirt. That’s about as casual as he likes to get.
Standing next to me, his Hawaiian shirt loud as ever, Blaze frowns. He’s pissed about being left out of the loop, but with Dad giving the orders, he doesn’t have any choice but to follow our lead. The expression on his face when we called an impromptu challenge was fucking hilarious, and while he’s doing his best to keep up appearances in front of the cameras, his face is just a little bit tighter and his words just a little more clipped than usual.
I bet he’s seething on the inside.
Giving him a nod, I indicate that it’s time to start, and to Blaze’s credit, the grin he pastes onto his face is worthy of the best of toothpaste ads.
“Welcome, everyone!” He waits briefly for us to respond, before he continues. “Last we saw you lovely ladies, you showed us how well you could handle the demands of Hunter’s busy lifestyle, dancing the night away. You were mostly all up to the task, but today’s assignment is something completely different.” He gestures with an elaborate flourish to a table holding up four unlabeled envelopes. “Ladies, today you will show us exactly how much you’ve learned about our handsome bachelor over the last few weeks.”
I catch Liz eyeing me suspiciously, but I play dumb, not giving her any special attention. Instead, I step forward, Blaze’s glare burrowing into my back now that he’s off-camera.
I raise my voice. “Good evening. By making it this far, you’ve all proven that you’re willing to both work hard and play dirty.” I wink, selfishly enjoying the way both Amanda and Liz flush.
Hell, Liz looks like she’s waiting for a SWAT team to swoop down and take her away at any moment. I’m sure she expected to be kicked straight off the island after this morning—I can’t say I wasn’t tempted—but after some words with Danny, I’ve got bigger fish to fry before I talk to her again.
And we will talk.
There’s no fucking way I’m letting her take off before I hear the whole thing from her mouth. Not just bits and pieces of what she lets slip. All of it.
Taking the envelopes off the table, I approach the four of them. “In these, you will find clues to point you in the direction of something important to me. You’ll have access to the entire island until we reconvene tomorrow to find it. If you succeed, you’ll earn your place in the final challenge.”
“I think what Hunter means—” Blaze tries to interrupt.
I cut him off. “What I mean, is that the girls who fail to follow their clue... will leave. Permanently. Tomorrow is the grand finale, and this determines whether you’ll take a part or not.”
Blaze’s slightly too orange complexion turns an ugly shade of red. We�
��re on camera, and he’s under orders to follow our lead, but he’s about ready to throw a fucking hissy fit.
Good.
I pass out the envelopes to each of them in turn. There’s nothing fair about this assignment, but this time it’s me who’s pulling the strings.
“You’ll each have a camera following you, and you can search wherever you want. What you can’t do is ask questions or consult with the others, or anyone else working on the island.” I put on my biggest, most charming smile. “Good luck.”
The filming stops, at least for a short while, after getting shots of the shocked faces, and the women opening their envelopes. I turn towards Dad, but Blaze clamps a hand on my arm.
I freeze, every muscle going tense. Who the fuck does he think he is?
One glare, and Blaze realizes he’s treading on thin ice. Still, he’s not about to let it lie. “None of this is in the schedule! I’ve got a fucking show to run here. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Finding my future bride, of course.” I grab his shoulder with a smile, squeezing until I see a flash of discomfort cross his face. “That is the point here, right?”
Dad comes over. “Great idea! Don’t you think, Blaze?”
We’re working together for once, and I’m not sure if I feel proud, or queasy.
“Of course... I just...” Blaze is at a loss for words. “I was just surprised you didn’t run it by me first.”
“There wasn’t much time, not with the preparations for tomorrow’s shoot,” Dad says with a shrug. “Don’t worry, you’re still the ringmaster in our little circus.”
He’s an asshole most of the time, but I’ll give my father this, he has a good fucking poker face. When I told him about Blaze, he was ready to tear the sleazy host limb from limb. Something about him being an ungrateful, corpse-licking, has-been with his head too far up his ass to know not to bite the hand that feeds him. There were a lot of body parts and creativity involved. Turns out Dad was already suspicious about something going on, because the budget didn’t seem to be lining up.
