Million Dollar Marriage

by Evans, Katy

I stare at him, then try to go and peek over myself, but even craning my neck to look over makes me dizzy and sick to my stomach. “It’s got to be?” That really isn’t the guarantee I was looking for. “Are you sure?”

  He nods. He gives me his hand. “Do you trust me?”

  I nod. I do. I really, really do.

  “Then let’s go.”

  So we do. No hesitation. Holding hands, we charge off the cliffside, falling down, down, down, into the warm, fresh water of the pool. We surface in each other’s arms, and I don’t need breath because he kisses me, and it turns out, that’s all the sustenance I need.

  He takes my hand, and we wade as fast as we can out of the pool and to the next grouping of clues. “Come on, killer. We have a race to win.”

  Luke

  We didn’t know when it was going to end. We figured soon, but we had no idea it would be like that.

  —Luke’s Confessional, Day 14

  I rip the envelope of the next clue with my teeth and pull out the slip of paper. It tells us we need to head back around the island again. My voice loses its timbre as I say, “And listen to this. Make your way to the Maui Ocean Center, where your adventure will come to an end.”

  “An end?” Her eyes widen.

  I don’t know what I was thinking. Not that this would go on forever. We’d fucking die. But I thought we’d have a little more time. Now it feels like everything’s about to come crashing to a halt, and I want it to keep going.

  I want us to keep going.

  We climb into the Jeep. The other teams are still on our tail, and Ace and Marta are still ahead of us, so we can’t lag like I want to. Talking to her. Making plans.

  I want to know what the fuck she’s thinking.

  She doesn’t say anything as we set off around the island again.

  The silence is fucking slaughtering me.

  We have to talk about this. We can’t just end with the cameras on us. Here in our Jeep, we’re alone. There’s so much I want to say, and this could be my last chance to say it.

  “Look,” I say, at the same time that she says, “You know . . .”

  We both laugh. I say, “I’m sorry. You go first.”

  “No. It was nothing,” she says softly. Was it? The game is about to end, and she’s saying nothing? “I was just saying it’s crazy that we’re almost at the end.”

  “Yeah.” I tighten my hand on the steering wheel and upshift. I can’t take it anymore. “What are we going to do? At the end?”

  She blinks. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if we win. What do you want to tell them?”

  She shakes her head. “I think we need to concentrate on beating Ace and Marta first. We can cross that bridge when we come to it. Don’t you think?”

  “No. Even if we don’t win. What do you want to do?”

  She’s wrinkling her nose. “You mean . . . what? Do you mean do I want to stay married to you?”

  When she says it like that, it sounds as fucking batshit as it sounded the first day it was brought up back in Atlanta. It’s just why I’ve been keeping her at arm’s length this whole time and didn’t take her when I desperately wanted to.

  She’s too fucking good for me. She deserves so much more.

  “I’m just making sure we’re on the same page.” My voice is stiff. “That’s all.”

  “Um . . . ,” she says softly, staring straight ahead. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

  Holy fuck. Is she . . . seriously considering it?

  I laugh. “What would people say? If we actually said we wanted to stay married?”

  She shrugs. “What difference does it make? Fuck ’em. Right?”

  “Right,” I say. “We should just do it.”

  “Yes. We should.”

  Holy shit.

  Did we just agree on what I think we agreed on?

  A car’s coming at me head-on, so I have to swerve. Penny grabs the door handle, and I get us back onto the road, then pull over at the first chance I get. “Come here,” I murmur, sliding my hands around her back and pulling her over the console toward me. I slam my mouth onto hers and kiss her. I trace the outline of her lips, which are still red and swollen from the thousands of kisses I’ve given her in the past few days. “This is insane, you know that?”

  She nods and sighs with total contentment, entwining my hand with hers and lifting them to gaze at the two fake rings, small and large, touching in our joined hands. “Luke . . .”

  “Yeah?” I nuzzle her neck, lost in the smell of her and the feel of her and the overpowering need for her. I’m ready to go and be her husband and make her the happiest wife on the planet.

  “I’d love to go on a honeymoon with you. So let’s go win this race.”

  I laugh. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  I let go of her and pull out onto the road again, never releasing her hand, and we make it down to the aquarium. As we descend the hill, we see it. A small crowd of onlookers, as well as the cameramen and the flags for the Million Dollar Marriage show. They’re waiting for us and start to cheer as we pull into the lot.

  It’s the end of the line.

  As we near the platform, I see Ace and Marta standing in a large square. At first I think they’ve got us beaten.

  But then I realize Marta’s frantically directing Ace, who’s moving colored cinder blocks into a line. They stop and throw up their hands. Will Wang runs over to them and says, “Sorry, but that is incorrect . . . again!”

  They haven’t won this thing yet. We coast to a stop at the edge of the lot. “Come on,” I shout to Penny as we climb out and run through the crowd.

  Will comes over to us and leads us to our own square. I see the colored cinder blocks, ready for us to line up.

  “Your next chore is simple—and the final task of the race,” he says. “Arrange these cinder blocks in order of the color of the flag at each of your previous check-ins.”

  Oh fuck.

  There were flags at the check-ins?

  I rake my hands through my hair and crouch down, thinking we’re fucked. Who the fuck could remember all that?

  But Penny, very quietly and methodically, is studying the colored blocks. She taps on the green one. “Luke. Can you help me?”

  I stare at her. “Wait. You know?”

  Then I remember who I’m talking to. This is Penelope Carpenter, who, among all the millions of other things she is, has a fucking huge brain in that head of hers, with an insanely good memory.

  She. Knows. Everything.

  I grab the green one and put it in the first slot. She’s already picking up the purple one. I take it from her hands and stick it into the second slot. She goes right down the line, directing me which one to pick up, one after another, not even pausing to think or break a sweat.

  When I have them all down, she nods.

  “That’s it.”

  There’s no question at the end of that sentence. She’s all confidence.

  She just knows.

  That’s my fucking badass wife.

  FINISH LINE

  Nell

  I had so much fun. It was easily the best experience of my life. I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to say more until the final live episode.

  —Nell’s Final Interview, Day 14

  Ivy and Cody are just arriving as I step away from the puzzle and Luke and I raise our hands.

  Will Wang approaches us with the microphone. “Let’s see if the brilliant doctor and her stud are up to the challenge.”

  He pauses for effect, but I don’t need the pause to know I’m right. Everything else I just survived at. This is what I’m good at.

  I catch a glimpse of Ace, who’s hefting a cinder block into his arms and watching us carefully as Will checks our work. The crowd seems to be holding its collective breath.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the winners of the first season of Million Dollar Marriage . . . Penelope Carpenter and Luke Cross!”

  I can’t help it. I start
to cry.

  There’s cheering, but I don’t pay attention to that. People wildly flying banners with our names on it. Cameras zeroed in on us. Ace throws a cinder block with impressive force at a parked car, and its alarm goes off.

  But in all this?

  Luke comes gently up to me. He engulfs my face in both of his big warm hands, and he dips his head, leaning his forehead against mine. I focus on nothing but the feel of him, the desire that I have for him that permeates me to the very core. We don’t talk. I’m not sure we do anything else but breathe each other in as chaos erupts around us.

  “Penny,” he finally whispers, and all that bravado is gone. It’s like he can’t believe it himself. “We did it.”

  I love that he calls me Penny. I love that his competitive side never took over and made him a total ass, like Ace. I love that he thinks of me before he thinks of the game. But more than anything, I love that we are going to be man and wife. More than anything, I love Luke Cross and the idea of spending the rest of my life with him.

  I guess that doesn’t make very good television, because a second later, Will pulls us apart and puts one arm around each of us.

  “You look very cozy like that. And of course, the whole world is waiting to know your answer!” he says, and I’m already missing Luke’s touch.

  Besides, the answer is yes.

  Yes. Yes. YES.

  Let’s get it over with. We want our happily ever after to start now.

  I peer past Will, in his bright Hawaiian shirt, and find my husband. He winks at me. He looks just as impatient as I am to get this show on the road.

  We both open our mouths, in complete agreement.

  And then Will says, “But we’re going to ask you to hold that thought as we wait for our live finale! Yes, our live finale, airing direct from Hollywood on December seventeenth! Don’t miss it!”

  I balk at the date. December 17? I’ve lost count of the days, but we’re not even anywhere near Thanksgiving yet. Is he saying we need to . . . wait?

  What?

  Luke’s looking just as confused as I am as the rest of the audience cheers and the cameras stop rolling. They all abruptly start packing up to leave.

  “Hey, wait. What the fuck was that?” Luke fixes him with a hard stare. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

  Will completely ignores Luke. “Congratulations, you two,” he says, giving me a perfunctory pat on the back. “Someone will be here shortly to explain things.”

  Random people come up to congratulate us. The crowd starts to disperse. Luke grabs my hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this settled.”

  Eloise Barker appears. “Hey, guys! Congrats.”

  “So, what?” he asks. “What’s this about not giving our decision until December?”

  She nods. “Right. Well, the season doesn’t start airing in the States until this Sunday. Ten episodes in all . . . December seventeenth. It’s in your contract, hottie. But I have to say, you performed well. You both did. Million Dollar Marriage is shaping up to be the biggest hit of the season!”

  Luke grits his teeth. “Okay. But . . .”

  Eloise gives him an annoyed look. “Sweetie. Did you even read the contract? If not, I’ll lay it out for you.”

  She talks to him like he’s an idiot. Like he’s just a hunk of good-looking meat and doesn’t have a brain, which makes me hate her all the more. I clench my fists, but I’m all but invisible to her.

  “The gag rule is pretty solid. You two are contractually obligated to remain mum and not disclose anything about this season until after the finale. That means that you two may not be seen together or communicate in any way from now until December seventeenth. Understood?”

  My heart catches in my throat. Luke speaks before I can find the words. “No fucking way.”

  “I’m sorry,” Eloise teases, clinging to his formidable biceps, and that does it. I instantly hate her, like I’ve never hated anyone. “I didn’t realize you were doing this because you didn’t want the money?”

  I swallow. I possessively grab his arm and take him away from her. “It’s okay,” I murmur, trying to smile for him. “It’s only a little while. And nothing’s going to change this, right?”

  He nods distractedly, still scowling at Eloise. He manages a smile and reaches out to touch me, but suddenly Eloise grabs his arm again, giving me a condescending look. “It starts at the conclusion of on-location filming. Thus, now.” She starts to drag him away. “Come on, stud. Don’t make me put you in violation of the contract.”

  No. No, this is all wrong.

  “Fuck, you mean I can’t even say goodbye to her?” he says as she guides him toward a waiting limousine. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

  Apparently not.

  They lead him into the back of the limo, and he turns to wave at me. I wave a little, and then the door closes, and he’s gone. I can’t see him through the tinted window.

  December 17. A lot can happen between now and then.

  I pick up my bag and wander back toward the parking lot, fielding congratulations from people, trying to ignore the massive hole that’s opening in my heart, growing bigger and bigger by the second. One of the staff members greets me and gets me my own limousine to the airport. I hope I’ll catch a glimpse of Luke on the way, but apparently they’re dead serious about keeping us apart. I don’t see him anywhere.

  I have a sleeping woman who hogs the armrest on my way back to Atlanta. No one to talk to, to share music with, or with a broad shoulder I can sink into while I sleep. The flight back goes on for a miserable eternity.

  By the time I get home and the cab drops me off at my apartment, it’s after midnight. Courtney isn’t expecting me, since we had no idea when we’d be allowed to come home. I left my keys at home, so I have to ring the doorbell. A sleepy-looking Joe, in rumpled boxers, opens the door and lets out a surprised, “Hey!”

  He opens the door a little more, and Courtney is there. “Oh my god! Look at you! You have color! You no longer look like a zombie from the living dead!”

  She runs to me and hugs me so hard, and suddenly I’m crying, and it’s not because of the living dead comment. I don’t know why. I had an amazing experience. Luke and I won the whole fucking game. We’ve agreed to stay married. I should be floating on air.

  But I can’t stop blubbering like an idiot. I cry so much I’m in danger of getting snot all over her T-shirt.

  “Aw, honey, what? Did you come in last place? Embarrass yourself on national television? What?”

  It occurs to me that they don’t know because the season hasn’t started airing yet. I can’t believe that after all we’ve been through, I have to sit and wait and keep my mouth shut about it. Even to my best friend. “I can’t tell you,” I wail. “It’s in my contract.”

  She puts an arm around me and brings me into the kitchen. She motions to Joe to put on a pot of tea. “Sure you can. You just have to make sure that the people you tell aren’t going to blab it to the world. You know Joe and I will keep it under wraps.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I wipe at my nose.

  We sit down at the kitchen table, and I look around. Everything looks smaller, somehow. Colder. Like it doesn’t belong to me anymore. “I think I’m just really overtired,” I tell her, wiping my eyes as Joe sets a cup of tea in front of me. I dunk the tea bag and sigh. “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but I’ve been planning for the appearance for months. Now everything feels so different. I’ve just spent the entire flight trying to decide what’s going to happen now. After.”

  “Well, you do what you have to do now. I’m sure it will be a little weird, since you’re going to be on television. But then it’ll calm down,” she says as Joe sits beside her. “So can you tell us what episode you got kicked off?”

  “Yeah,” Joe adds. “How far did you get?”

  I think about that last moment, when Luke was pulled away from me, and my heart twists. “I won.”

  Courtney leans for
ward, then cocks an eyebrow at Joe. “Excuse me? It sounded like she just said she won.”

  Joe nods, confirming. “She did.” He looks at me and shakes his head. “She’s pulling our leg.”

  “I’m serious!”

  Courtney crosses her arms. “Fine! Don’t tell us!” She says with a pout. “Can you at least tell us what the big twist was? Did the winning couple have to get married?”

  I shake my head, more confident now since I doubt they’ll believe anything I say. “We all had to get married. I married Luke Cross. The guy behind us in line?”

  Her jaw drops. “The smoking-hot dirty guy? OH MY GOD!” Joe flashes her a hurt look, which she ignores. “So did you have to do challenges with him and stuff?”

  I finger the place where the plastic ring was up until they ripped it off me. “I had to do just about everything with him.”

  She’s fanning her face again. “I seriously can’t wait to watch this season with you. So was he hot? Sweet? Sexy? Did you . . . get cozy? Was he every bit a swoony as he looked? Please tell me he made you forget Gerald.”

  Yes yes yes yes yes. A thousand yesses. The more he runs through my head, the more I just want to be with him again. The more horrible I feel. I can’t believe we have to wait until December 17 to even see each other. This is cruel and unusual and . . .

  I’m crying again.

  I swipe at my tears with the back of my hand, and suddenly I don’t want tea. I want my bed. Even though I’m sure that from now on my bed will be missing something if he isn’t in it with me. But I just don’t want to face this anymore. I want to go to sleep, hanging a sign on my head that says DO NOT WAKE UNTIL DECEMBER 17.

  “I think I should just turn in,” I say, standing up. “I’m sorry.”

  I can tell Courtney wants more gossip. Of course she does. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in my boring life, and I’d ordinarily be able to speak volumes on it. But I can’t. Not now. Not when every single story I could tell her would be tinged with the memory of him.

  So I go up to my small room, with my small bed, and crawl under the sheets. Without him. Without my husband.

  Luke

  It was great. I have no complaints.