Seven Exes Are Eight Too Many

by Heather Wardell

  I felt a twinge of sadness for Sam, who should have been with Kayla.

  "Now, we have two fewer Courtiers than Ladies, so thanks to the Princess's numbers the second Courtier, and the fourth, will each be with two Ladies."

  Michael's face turned red as he walked to Peter and stood between Tara and Jody. After Dean was paired up with Ashley, Aaron greeted Faith and Lily with a big smile and friendly hugs. Funny how quickly fresh female company perked him up. Greg looked annoyed at Aaron's treatment of the women, but Summer's kiss on his cheek seemed to soothe him.

  "And you, Princess, will be with our Prince."

  Couldn't I spend the time alone? Or maybe working on a chain gang?

  Peter led us along a small path to a clearing full of tables, far enough apart there'd be no talking to anyone but your tablemate. No Summer to keep the conversation moving. What could Kent and I possibly talk about?

  Once everyone was settled, Peter said, "By the way, today is your seventh day here. Excellent work, everyone. Enjoy this opportunity to get to know each other." Our eyes met and the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile, and he and the camera crew left.

  We were by no means unobserved, though. A camera stood facing each table, and I could see at least one microphone peeking out of the flower vase. I understood now why they hadn't bothered wiring us up. Still, I liked not having the camera, and especially the man behind it, right in my face.

  Kent held the bottle of wine out toward me, raising his eyebrows.

  "Half a glass, please." I needed the social lubrication, but after last night my surviving brain cells probably couldn't handle much more alcohol.

  He poured my wine, filled his own glass, and spent a good while settling the bottle back onto the table in the perfect place. Then he raised his glass and said, "To a million dollars."

  "I'll drink to that."

  We clinked glasses, and as I took a sip he added, "And to having a rat named after me."

  I clapped my hand over my mouth so I wouldn't spray him. Once I'd managed to get the wine down, I gasped, "How do you know about that?"

  He grinned. "Aaron told Faith and Kayla at that first lunch. Sounds like he was proud of it."

  "Of course he was. I am so sorry." I turned in my chair, looking for Aaron, but I didn't have a chance of catching his eye to tell him off when he had two women to entertain.

  "It's okay. I'll find some disgusting creature and name it Aaron."

  I turned back to face Kent. "Make sure it's disgusting. He deserves it."

  He smiled. "We already named a snake in our camp. We'd seen it before, but after hearing about your mascot we figured we should name ours."

  "Let me guess, its name starts with 'M' and ends with 'C' and has no other letters in it?"

  He shook his head. "Summer said they couldn't." His eyes met mine. "Ended up calling it Peter."

  We burst out laughing, but it was short-lived. We didn't look away from each other, and his eyes darkened then returned to their usual green. My breath caught in my throat, remembering the last time I'd seen that. And the time Sam had seen it. Sam...

  Before I could lose my nerve, I said, "I need to apologize. I'm sorry I--"

  "I forgive you."

  "You don't know what I'm--"

  "It doesn't matter. I forgive you."

  "Don't," I said, overwhelmed. "You can't. I don't deserve a... a blanket forgiveness."

  He looked down at his plate. "What for then?"

  A long deep breath brought my emotions under control and I waited until he raised his eyes again before I said, "I was rude while we waited to hear about Sam," and blinked three times, both to show what I meant and to ask if he was okay.

  "You were upset." He gave me the two-blink "I'm fine" response. "I shouldn't have interfered. I'm the last one here you'd want comfort from."

  My brain, perhaps in retaliation for the previous night's full-scale slaughter of neurons, brought up a clear memory of how warm and protected I'd always felt when Kent held me. The last one I'd want comfort from?

  After a few seconds of intense silence, Kent said, his tone carefully light, "You know, we were wondering what happened with Phillip. He didn't exactly seem like your best friend at that lunch, but it looked like his exile wasn't popular. Am I right?

  I took a deep breath, blew it out in a sigh, and drank the rest of my wine in one swallow.

  "That good, huh?" Kent refilled my glass, much more than half full this time. "I'm sorry to hear that. Hey, what's it like, exiling someone? Everyone gets to vote, I assume?"

  Not sure I was supposed to tell, but liking the thought of causing the show difficulties, I said, "There's no vote. Only one person decides."

  He frowned, but his face cleared almost instantly. "Just us?"

  I nodded. "We can't be exiled, and the others have no say. Unless you want them to."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah."

  "So how'd Peter run it? You know, in case I lose at some point."

  "In case?" I said in mock outrage, and we laughed. I described the throne room and the ceremony, which got us through our salads, then we talked about the show and how we were doing on our islands until the arrival of the main course, chicken with pineapple on a bed of rice.

  Kent looked at the food then back at me. "Rice. They had to give us rice."

  I laughed. "At least we didn't cook it ourselves."

  "Good point." He cut a bite from his chicken, said, "Summer hated Phillip," and popped the food into his mouth.

  She certainly hadn't seemed to. "Why?"

  "She didn't like how he treated you."

  "Good she didn't hear--" I cut myself off.

  "Hear what?"

  "Oh, what he said at camp. Just Phillip being Phillip."

  "I'm glad I didn't hear it. I got more than enough of him at that lunch." Before I could figure out how we'd moved from Summer's opinion to Kent's, he added, "She likes you, though."

  I choked on my pineapple. When I could breathe, I said, "Why on earth would she?"

  "She says you're tough, living with all those men." His warm smile outdid the pineapple in taking my breath away. "The others were mad she didn't learn anything about you, but I told them you were more than a match for her." Was that pride in his voice?

  "Years of practice," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  His eyes were still intent on my face. "She also said my parents must have liked you."

  I glanced at the microphone but couldn't stop myself. "What did you say to that?"

  "Said she was right." He reached for his wine glass, then changed course and laid his hand over mine. I stared at it and wished the moment could last forever. I'd so missed his touch.

  He said, "They really did. They were upset for a long time after... you know..."

  There was no accusation in his voice, but both parts of that sentence hurt to hear. His parents had been upset. And they'd gotten over it. Most likely when-- "Did they like Summer?"

  He leaned back in his chair, taking his hand away and leaving my skin feeling lonely and cold where his had been. "They did. It took a while for them to get used to her. But they did."

  I had nothing to say to this, and apparently he didn't either because he asked after Liv and Craig. I told him all about Craig's little Colin and my plans for using the money to help him. "What would you do with it?" I asked when I'd finished.

  He sighed. "My parents were cheated by a financial advisor last year. They're getting things sorted out, but they'll probably lose their house. None of us kids have the money to fix it for them, and they wouldn't take it if we did, but they might accept it if I had a million."

  "Yeah, they might. That's horrible. Can't they sue or something?"

  He nodded, but his mind was obviously elsewhere. "If we have all the control, do we get all the money too?"

  I shrugged. "Peter didn't say, but Aaron and Michael think so."

  "So one of us will win a million. Not bad for three weeks' work."

&n
bsp; "I promised to share it," I admitted.

  "Really? What about Colin?"

  I sighed. "I know, but the guys said I couldn't win without them, and they're right. So I said I'd share but that most would go to Colin."

  "And they were okay with that?"

  "Eventually."

  He smiled and gave me a slow nod. "Good for you."

  The approval in his voice and on his face flustered me. "I... so, are your parents going to sue?"

  He blinked as if not sure what I was talking about but then said, "They say they won't. I guess it was legal, but totally the wrong investments. Way too risky. Plus, what they didn't lose on the stock market went to him for transaction fees."

  The bitterness in his voice hurt my heart. "Well, can you and Ron go and beat him up?"

  He gave me the half smile I'd always loved. "They won't give up his address. And believe me, we tried."

  "He'd probably rather go to jail than deal with you two."

  "Three," he said, and for a split second I thought he meant me before I realized and said, "Oh, right, Holly too."

  "Kid throws a mean punch." He pretended to rub a bruised arm.

  "She'd have to, growing up with you two."

  "Because of Ron, of course, not because of me."

  "Oh, of course," I said, and we grinned at each other. The more time I spent with him, the clearer it became: Kent was exactly the kind of man I wanted.

  If only I didn't see his failure to stand up for me every time I looked at him.

  Chapter Twelve

  "The Princess cheated on a Courtier. Which one?"

  Peter's voice was so neutral the words took a second to sink in. When they did, though--

  "I knew it." Dean dropped his chalkboard, then picked it up and slammed it to the ground again. "You looked me right in the eye and lied. You are such a bitch."

  "It wasn't you!"

  But that inflamed him more. He lunged for me, making Kent's exes scatter shrieking.

  I didn't scatter. Instead, I found myself on my feet, fists up like in kickboxing class, prepared for his attack.

  Dean hesitated in the face of my apparent readiness to respond, and Aaron and Michael dragged him back to the guys' bench and pushed him, with no gentleness, into his seat.

  "It wasn't you, jackass."

  "How the hell would you know?"

  "She told me," Kent said, like there was nothing more natural than me discussing my past indiscretions with him. I'd cried admitting it, but I'd wanted him to know.

  His words confused Dean long enough for Peter to step in. "Pick up that chalkboard, and don't you dare threaten the Princess again." Turning to me, he added, "Are you all right?"

  "Thanks to them," I said, making deliberate eye contact with Aaron, whose face held none of his usual mischief and lightheartedness, Michael, pale and obviously angry, and finally the clench-jawed Kent.

  When our eyes met, Kent blinked three times. Mindful of the cameras and everyone watching me, I rubbed my eyes then blinked twice as if clearing them, and his face relaxed. We'd both promised never to "blink lie", as he'd called it, so he knew I really was all right.

  And I was. Shaking with the aftermath of my adrenaline rush and trying to hide it, but fine. I turned to help Kent's exes pick up the chalkboards they'd discarded in their flight. Summer took her chalkboard, then hugged me hard and whispered "You poor thing!" into my ear. Embarrassed, I gave her a quick squeeze then disengaged myself and took my seat.

  "Gentlemen, your answers please," Peter said once we'd settled, his eyes firmly on Dean.

  Not surprisingly given what he'd said, three of my exes picked Kent. Dean, of course, wrote his own name, and Aaron, after a great deal of consideration, named Sam.

  "And Sam is correct," Peter said. "So each Court earns one point."

  Kent erased Sam's name from his chalkboard then began doodling. As Peter read the next question, Kent watched him intently but flipped his chalkboard around to face me and his exes. He'd drawn a wavy line across the middle, and a cartoon sun with a goofy grin above the line, then filled the bottom half with more wavy lines.

  I had to close my eyes and pretend to be struggling with the question to keep from laughing out loud. Sunset over a lake. I'd read about that visualization while we were together and told him about it, and he obviously remembered how well it had calmed me down.

  "--teddy bear?"

  Several of the women giggled, and I opened my eyes. If I looked at Kent I'd burst out laughing, so I watched Peter and waited for him to repeat his question.

  "Who did the Prince think was most likely to have brought along a teddy bear?"

  I couldn't resist flicking a glance at Kent; he was holding his chalkboard on his lap, idly making it dance from corner to corner on his thighs. I forced my eyes away from him; the guys would notice if they hadn't already, and I had to focus. Teddy bear. Lily?

  I was the only one who picked her. When Peter revealed Kayla as the right answer, she blushed and the others laughed.

  Peter smiled at Kayla. "He was right, wasn't he? You did bring a bear."

  Blushing even more, she nodded.

  Frosty Kayla cuddling a teddy bear?

  "It's a big white one," Kayla said in response to Aaron's questioning. "Took up most of the room in my suitcase, but I can't sleep without it. I've had it since I was a kid."

  Polar bear. Icy Kayla. Hmm.

  "So that's five points for the Prince's Court and none for the Princess, I'm afraid."

  "And no teddy bear, either." I gave Peter a pouty face.

  Aaron reached for me. "All you have to do is ask, baby."

  Everyone laughed. Not Dean, naturally, but everyone else. His folded arms and angry eyes didn't bother me too much; I felt insulated by the protection Aaron offered, and by Kent too. Plus, the more we laughed the less Dean seemed to matter.

  Peter smiled at me, then picked up the next question. His smile faded as he read it over, and the clearing filled with tension again.

  It couldn't be worse than the one about my cheating, could it?

  *****

  Dean went straight to the water when we returned to camp, swimming away from shore as if trying to escape and return to his regular life.

  "Want me to go drown him?"

  I shook my head at Aaron. "He's just sad."

  "I agree if you meant pathetic, but I don't think you did. You actually feel sorry for him?"

  Yes, and he'd hate me even more if he knew. He seemed so miserable after every outburst. "No, but I think he's upset."

  "He should be," Michael said. "He keeps making a fool of himself."

  After the final question, and Peter's announcement that Kent's court had won a bag of chocolate and cookies, Michael had put his arm around my shoulder without saying a word. He'd stayed beside me ever since, nearly knocking Aaron out of the way to sit beside me on the boat, and now sat on the rock next to mine.

  Greg said, "Look, we're stuck with him. At least until we lose an exile contest and MC gets rid of him. So I think--"

  "When did I say I'd exile him next?"

  The four guys turned to me with nearly identical looks of shock. Aaron regained his powers of speech first. "You can't possibly want to keep him."

  "No," I admitted. "But don't assume you know what I'm thinking."

  "I never know what you're thinking," Greg said. "Do you play poker? You'd be amazing."

  "Yeah, right." Considering the contest's events, I was in an oddly giddy mood. "You just want my money."

  "We do need to decide how to deal with Dean," Jim said. "Greg, did you have an idea?"

  "I think we five are a team, and Dean's not part of it." Turning to me, he said, "He scared me when he went after you at the contest."

  "He didn't 'go after' me. He was bluffing."

  Aaron said, "Look, we had to pull him back hard. A lot harder than I expected. I think he was serious."

  "Me too," Michael said, and Jim and Greg nodded.

  "Ba
by, I'd be happier if you weren't alone with him. Ever."

  The idea that I was at risk from skinny little Dean made me laugh out loud, but I laughed alone. "Guys, come on. He wouldn't. And if he went insane and did, I could beat him."

  "Have you ever actually hit someone?"

  "I hit you in the limo, if I recall."

  "Besides that," Aaron said, ignoring my joking tone. "Have you been in a real fight?"

  I shook my head. "I've hit and kicked the practice bag at classes, but that's it."

  He got to his feet and held his hand, palm facing me, in the air by his head. "Punch me as hard as you can."

  I didn't like where this was going. "I hit you once, that's enough."

  "Do it, MC. Give me everything you've got."

  His earnestness, so un-Aaron-like, and the way he didn't make even one lewd comment about what I could give him sobered me. I stood, took a deep breath, and drove my right fist into his palm, twisting my body to increase the power.

  His hand jerked back an inch or two. "Not bad. Put up your right hand."

  I did.

  "Not in front of your face, off to the side."

  Once I'd moved it over, he looked at me a moment, his face somber, then punched my palm with his left hand.

  My forearm snapped back until my hand was level with the back of my head. Pain stormed down my arm and through my body, making my knees weak. My palm blazing, I returned to my rock, determined not to show how much it hurt.

  "What the hell," Michael began, but Aaron jumped in.

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Give me your hand."

  "No."

  Aaron took my wrist, his eyes serious, and I let him turn my hand to see the imprint in my palm, white around the edges but beginning to turn red as the blood crept back into my stunned flesh.

  "Aaron, you utter--"

  "Michael, it's okay," I said. "Aaron, what's your point?"

  He looked me in the eye. "You're strong, MC. I've never had a woman hit me that hard before. But here's the thing. I hit you with my left, which is weaker, and even so that wasn't the hardest I could have done it."

  I did not want to be hit harder than that.

  His fingers tightened around my wrist, and I realized he was truly concerned. "I think I'm stronger than Dean. But I also think Dean's stronger than you. If he hits you first, you might not get the chance to hit back. I'm asking you to be careful."