by Kim Linwood
“I—I swear, I didn’t mean to—”
“Well, you fucking did.” I feel guilty when I see her flinch like I just strangled her kitten. I sigh and try to make my voice a little bit less dangerous-sounding. “You’ve put me in a very bad, very awkward position, and I need to be alone for a bit. That’s not too hard to understand, is it?”
Amanda shakes her head quickly, hair bouncing. “No. I’ll—um, get out of your way.” She backs away a couple of steps before turning, like I’m a bear off my leash or some shit like that. As she opens the outside door, she glances over her shoulder, looking at me through the doorway. “Sorry.”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” I stand, but suddenly I’m not sure where to go. “Close the door after you.”
She does.
I don’t know what to think.
I believe Liz, but I know she’s holding back.
I believe Amanda, but I don’t know her motivation.
Am I so easily led by my dick and a few years of happy memories that I’d let someone make a fool out of me? Liz and I have a connection, we always have. When I first saw her as she was getting off the plane, it was like nothing had changed.
But maybe that wasn’t true. Ten years changes a lot, we both admitted it.
There’s someone I need to talk to.
35
Hunter
My father’s in his room, three monitors hooked up playing various footage from the island. He looks up when I come in. “Why aren’t you downstairs yet?”
“Good morning to you too, Pop.”
Dad looks at me like I’m nuts. “Someone piss in your oatmeal?”
“What? No, I—”
“Then get down there and make me some better shots than this crap. Three weeks and nobody’s even been slapped. It’s a motherfucking travesty.”
Good to see he has his priorities straight. It’s disgusting, but reality TV might just be his calling. “I’m getting to it. I just have one question for you.”
He gives me a get-on-with-it look.
“Did you know Sarah is really Liz Bissette?”
I’m hoping for shock or anger. Maybe confusion.
Instead, he laughs. “You just figured that out? What the hell, boy?”
Dread churns in my gut. “So you knew?”
“Of course I knew. She looks just like her mother, plus a dye job and minus the decades of poisoning herself.”
“How long?” The words come out low and clipped.
“From the moment I found her.” He has the sense to look a little flustered. “Just make sure you get the confrontation on camera, okay? Otherwise her spot was wasted. Aside from that lost in the jungle bit, she’s been a serious fucking bore.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“That’s my boy.” He turns back to the monitors and then spins back around. “Wait, keep your eye out for anything that seems… off. The budget isn’t adding up.”
The budget? Like I care.
I leave, feeling surprisingly emotionless. Dad tracked down Liz and got her on the show. He didn’t even bother hiding it. I bet if I went to her right now she’d have a good explanation. She’d stammer and look embarrassed. I’d want to hold her and talk it out until it all made sense. We’d end up naked and screwing like rabbits.
I’d still be an idiot.
Fuck that.
36
Liz
“Good morning, everyone! I trust you all slept well?” Blaze gives me a pointed look.
Yeah, yeah. I know my makeup hasn’t quite covered up the dark circles under my eyes from the last few nights with Hunter.
They’ve been worth it.
I glance over at Hunter, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. He’s probably just as tired as I am, and we’re going to have to be careful not to make it too obvious that there’s more between us than a couple fake dates.
“Every billionaire needs a partner who can keep up with all the demands of their extravagant lifestyle. It’s not just about shopping trips and a never-ending vacation. The Campbell Foundation keeps him busy, both in business, and society.” Blaze stops and lets that sink in, looking very deliberately at each of the four of us. “Today we’re going to find out if you know the tango from the twist. Prosciutto from pigs in a blanket.”
Suddenly the etiquette and dance lessons my grandfather made me suffer through don’t seem as ridiculous as they did when our ballroom was more often used for hide and seek. He always hoped the estate would return to its former glory, but I bet he wouldn’t be happy to know it took changing hands to do it.
“You have until six o’clock to prepare. All of you will enter the world of the wealthy and fabulous, but make no mistake. There can be only one belle of this ball. Everything money can buy will be provided, gowns and jewels, makeup and hair teams on standby. Tonight, the sky’s the limit, but it’s up to you to direct your style. Consider everything you’ve learned about Hunter, and choose wisely, because Hunter’s Cinderella will get to spend a night with the prince in his castle. Just the two of you.”
Blaze licks his lips and watches all of us with a disturbing sort of glee. “And the ugly stepsisters will be the ones shipped off to volunteer for the night in the kitchen of a homeless shelter in San Juan.”
Forget dark circles, all the blood drains from my face at his mention of stepsisters. Could Blaze know? Amanda glances over at me, expression more resigned than angry or smug as I’d expect.
Does everyone know? Or am I just being paranoid?
I don’t have time to worry, because as soon as Blaze is done lording his power as host over us, we’re whisked away.
“Girls!” A flamboyantly dressed woman claps her hands in excitement as we’re herded into the old gaming room.
It’s an old-fashioned sort of study filled with dusty books nobody’s ever read, and just about anything you might need for a boozed up, smoky game of poker while you discuss trade regulations and pesky pirates. All of the furniture is pushed to the sides, and rack after rack of dresses have been crammed in.
“My name is Madeline and this is your first stop on your journey to perfection.” She grins and holds out her arms. “We were given your sizes, so each of you should have plenty of options to sort through. There’s only time for very minor alterations, so choose carefully. This is the glorious base upon which your accessories, hair and makeup will reside.”
“Do you suppose she and Blaze got together to plan these speeches?” Bianca mutters under her breath.
Megan and I glance at each other and laugh. Amanda is already off, looking through the selection. I poke around until I find what looks like my size. A month of normal eating has put a few pounds back on my figure, and while I’m not usually a big shopper, playing dress up for the day might be fun.
I’m trying to decide between a pale peach cocktail dress that I love—but will probably look horrible against my skin—and a royal blue gown, when something on the wall behind the rack catches my eye. There, just over the back of a brown leather chair is a frame filled with yellowing parchment. The attention to detail is amazing. It’s a perfect map of Frederick Island and Dirt Rock, labeled with a sweeping scroll and embellished to the point of art.
My mouth goes dry and my hand on the blue dress shakes. It looks just like it did when I was a little girl, right down to the gold trimmed frame. I know without looking that the old deed is attached to the back of the map, complete with all the names of the people who’ve owned the island.
“Blue? Why not try this one?” Madeline pulls the blue dress out of my hand and holds up a forest green gown. “It’s a little daring, but I think it would go beautifully with your coloring.”
I tear my eyes away from the map and try to pay attention to what she’s saying.
I found it.
The whole reason I came to the island in the first place is hanging within an arm’s reach of where I’m standing. I haven’t looked in over a week, and even then I was having second thoughts. Childish dreams aside, I can’t a
fford to own an island, and selling it would break my heart. At least with Hunter it’s in good hands.
And if Hunter and I stay together—
“The gown, dear? Do you want to try it on?” Madeline asks impatiently.
Grabbing it out of her hands, I look around for the changing area. “Oh, sorry. Yes, I’d love to.”
“Good! Wonderful. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go save that darling little blonde girl from making a horrible mistake.” She zips off, scolding Amanda, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights.
After changing, I stand on a little box in front of the mirrors, staring at myself in wonder. The hem sweeps around my feet, too long now, but perfect for heels. My back is exposed, and the front shows off more cleavage than I’m used to, but it’s beautiful. The curves I’ve regained with three good meals a day are shown to perfection as the fabric clings from bust to hip before flowing down in a gentle flare.
“I’m probably not supposed to be encouraging the competition, but you’d be an idiot not to pick that dress.” Bianca comes up behind, startling me.
“You think? It’s the first I’ve tried on.”
Megan joins us, nodding. “I love it.” Something seems to have happened between her and Amanda, because while they don’t seem hostile with each other, they aren’t all buddied up like they’ve been most of the show.
I don’t need any more encouragement. “Okay, I’ll take it.”
The next hour is spent with the four of us looking through the rest of the choices. I even try on a few more things just for fun, but nothing beats that first dress. Amanda seems distant, but she chimes in occasionally.
What’s she up to? I’ve never gotten a mean vibe from Amanda, but there’ve been too many small hints for me to trust her. I miss the budding friendship I had with her and Megan, but I guess the show will be over soon, anyway.
“Everyone set?” Madeline stands in the doorway looking us over like a proud mama. “Leave your dresses here with me and I’ll have the alterations ready by the time you’re done with lunch. Then we continue the rest of your makeover.” I hand her my gown, giving the satiny fabric one last stroke.
Hidden from where I’m standing, the map remains in its spot on the wall. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it, but I can’t leave the island without it.
Even if all I do is look and dream.
37
Liz
We’re to enter the ballroom one at a time, each of us attended by one of the staff or crew dressed smartly in tuxes. I’m ushered into the last position, while Bianca and Danny lead the way.
They match perfectly. Bianca’s diaphanous white dress with the silver trim contrasts beautifully with her glossy black hair, and Danny looks every inch the well-bred gentleman.
Megan and one of the cute, young cameramen walk in behind them. Her slight dancer’s frame is perfect for the simple dress she chose. The lilac silk is gathered under her bust and ripples as she moves. On me or Amanda it would be too much, but Megan has the figure of a model, if not the height.
The pervy cameraman with the moustache walks in with Amanda, who looks beautiful in a navy blue gown with a huge skirt, but also like she wants to rush so she can stop touching him as soon as possible.
As I get to the door, Blaze steps forward and offers me his arm. I hesitate, but accept.
“You look beautiful tonight, Ms. Dreyer.”
“Thank you.” I hear him, but my focus is on the door. Where’s Hunter?
For a moment, I forget all about him as we step into the room. I expected a corny setup with just the four of us, but this is huge.
A string quartet plays in the corner, and servers wander the room with trays full of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. And so many guests. Where did they find them all? They must have invited every well-to-do islander for miles, because they all look like they’re perfectly at home in their elegant suits and beautiful gowns. Sequins glitter, jewels sparkle and silky fabrics swish as they flow by like a river of ever-changing color.
And the ballroom, it’s cleaned, and made up. Even the cathedral ceilings look like they’ve had a wash. The black and white marble tiles are polished. It looks like it’s in regular use, though I can hardly imagine Hunter having lots of balls thrown here when he’s not hosting a crazy reality show.
“Are your bags packed?” Blaze asks, his smile firmly in place as we walk together.
“Excuse me?”
“Just making conversation.”
Did he really just ask me if I was ready to lose? “Like hell you were. What was that supposed to mean?”
He ignores me, and I can’t even call him on it because the cameras circle around and the men back away, leaving the four of us standing alone. Blaze takes a glass of champagne from one of the servers, and looks past me, over my shoulder.
I follow his gaze and find Hunter, striding towards us like a man born to privilege. He’s absolutely poured into his suit. Black and white, the cut is modern but classic. It might seem austere, but he’s left off the tie. It’s the detail that makes it look like he wears the suit, instead of the suit wearing him.
His hair is styled back, accentuating his handsome face and making his blue eyes stand out. Pools of clear sky on a stormy face.
He’s not happy.
“Your date has arrived, ladies. Tonight your assignment is to charm the socks off the island’s most eligible bachelor. He’ll spend time with each of you, and be watching how you handle yourselves. Good luck.” For once Blaze doesn’t oversell the description, he just tips his head in a small bow and slips off into the crowd.
“Sarah. You look amazing.” Hunter’s voice is flat, like he’s reading off a teleprompter.
I look up, suddenly unsure about my dress, my hair, my everything. There’s definitely something wrong, but there’s no way I can ask him about it. Not until we’re alone.
“So do you. Very handsome.”
“Thank you.” He looks uncomfortable, but he’s saved from having to say more by a server coming by with food.
I smile in thanks and carefully pick up a tiny cracker with caviar on it. Hunter looks over the selection and grabs a tiny sausage wrapped in layers of filo dough with a toothpick through the center.
“Expensive tastes?” He asks with a slightly mean grin.
I narrow my eyes. “What’s up with you tonight?” First Blaze, now Hunter? Is it pick on Liz night and nobody told me? If I’d known, I would’ve stayed in my room.
He shrugs, looking unfairly suave. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” I hiss. “What happened?”
“Nothing has changed. We’ll talk later. I need to go do my rounds.” Hunter takes off before I can argue.
I watch his back as he walks away. A surge of possessiveness hits me as he stops to talk to Bianca. Under that formal suit are the marks of my nails down his back, and a small, wild part of me wants her to know it.
“That’s a pretty fancy dress for wool gathering.” Amanda appears at my side, her eyes following Hunter as well.
“Huh?” I give her a glare. “Sorry. Were you saying something?”
“I said, you look nice. I bet you never imagined you would stay in the show this long.”
“No, not really.”
“What changed? When we got here you didn’t seem very committed.” Amanda is being suspiciously friendly.
Hunter, that’s what changed. Hunter, and maybe a million dollars. “I guess I got caught up in the romance.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Mmm, I can see that.”
The quartet starts a waltz, light airy tones reverbing off the high ceilings as Hunter and Bianca walk out onto the dance floor together. Both of us watch them intently. Their start is rocky, but they quickly fall into a rhythm. It’s obvious Hunter has more dancing experience than Bianca, but he leads confidently and she holds her own. When the song is over, he says something and they laugh together.
Danny waits to the side, and she goes straigh
t to him with a big smile on her face. It might not be a winning dance, but it looks like they had a good time. I try not to hold it against her that Hunter smiled for her, but not for me.
Then Megan is up, and as soon as the music starts, it’s clear she’s danced before. With the grace of a professional, she glides across the floor with Hunter. I knew he was holding back with Bianca, but I didn’t realize how much.
“Holy shit,” Amanda exclaims. “Miss Patty’s Dance Nook did not prepare me for that.”
“No kidding.” I turn away, not wanting to watch the man I’m falling for dance so beautifully with someone else.
By the time the applause starts, I’m at the bar, exchanging champagne for soda water. I’ve found that so long as the glass looks right, most people don’t ask what’s in it. The music starts back up for what I’m assuming is Amanda’s dance.
“Avoiding your mother’s problems? Smart.” Hollister shoulders his way next to the bar and orders a whiskey.
“Glad you approve,” I say dryly.
“Oh, don’t be like that. You’ve lasted longer than I thought you would.” He looks me up and down. “And you clean up nice. How’d Hunter take it when he found out who you are? Work out some deep childhood issues? I can’t blame him. You Bissette women must be a family weakness or something.”
“He’s your son. That’s just gross.” I shudder. “Besides, I don’t know why you think now is suddenly a good time to get all creepy father figure with me, but trust me, it’s not.”
“Right, I forgot you were drowning your sorrows in water. That Megan girl’s going to be a tough act to follow.”
“Wait. How do you know for sure that he knows?” I put down my glass and study Hollister Campbell’s craggy face. “Did you talk to him?” Oh, shit. If Hunter found out about the talk I had with his father, that wouldn’t be good.
