Walk of Shame

by Gregory, O. L.

  "You two can go," Troy said again.

  I looked up at the two guys and nodded.

  They left as the medic showed up. He patched me up as Troy fished magazines out of the water and cracked jokes about how the cameramen were going to have to shoot me from the front, or only above the waist.

  "You're certainly making this an interesting season for me," he quipped.

  "Ever happy to keep you entertained," I retorted.

  "No stitches or anything," the medic reported, placing tape over the edges of the gauze he'd applied. "But you're going to have to reapply the antibiotic cream and change the bandage twice a day."

  "I'll make sure production sends up medical supplies and some OTC pain meds," Troy promised. "I should text the MA and get her up here to do something with you, so we can go get today's round of interview questions about yesterday done and move forward with the day."

  I sighed and nodded. The interview, which promised to be lengthy given that I'd dated eight of the guys yesterday, was the major point of concern for the day.

  Makeup came and handled my head before wardrobe put me in a summer dress.

  Goldie was all stretched out in her corner of exile when I came back out of the house to go to the interview trailer. She whined as soon as she saw me.

  "Go. And stay out of trouble."

  "Landscaping already took care of the blood. I'm pretty sure the magazines are a lost cause. I'll have someone get you new copies," Troy said as we walked along.

  We did the interview, and afterwards I went over to the wardrobe trailer and listened to a producer, a cameraman, and a wardrobe person discuss changes in my coming attire that they needed to make, in order to make filming the easiest for them with the large bandage. Then another producer walked in, as I tried on outfits, to see where the hemlines would all fall on me. Then I listened to the two producers discuss whether they'd even address the accident. If it could remain hidden, they might leave it out. If not, they'd have to piece together the little bit of film their guys had captured when everyone had come running.

  I left them to their debate and limped back up to the cottage. The gauze lying up against the scrape had it feeling like it was burning. I got an ice pack out of the freezer, took a couple pain pills, and settled down on the couch with my laptop and the TV remote.

  The sun was thinking about setting when there was a knock on the door. I looked up and saw a cameraman through the window by the door. I let out a sigh and waved him in, figuring Troy was behind him, looking for an update.

  Two camera crews came in and headed for their angles, followed by Jared holding magazines, Liam holding a board game, and Phillip carrying two bags of groceries. I closed the lid on my laptop and sat up straighter.

  "What's up?" I asked the group.

  Phillip flashed me a smile before breezing past me to go into the kitchen.

  "I wanted to bring you some back issues of the magazines, since the last set got ruined, and check to see how you're doing," Jared said.

  "And I figured to come check on you anyway, so I brought something for us to do, in case you were bored after your afternoon of solitude," Liam said.

  "And Phillip?" I asked.

  "We brought him along to cook you dinner," Liam answered.

  "There're meals in the fridge for me," I said.

  "But I make really good Italian food. And what better comfort food is there?" Phillip called from the kitchen.

  "How is it that the three of you were able to sneak away from the other seven?" I asked.

  "Liam and I were the only ones outside when you screamed, so we were the only ones up at the house who even knew you got hurt," Jared said.

  "I only found out because I overheard them talking about sneaking over. Don't let them fool you with the excuse of food," Phillip said.

  "So, instead of ratting them out to the others, you joined in with their sneakiness?" I asked.

  Phillip shrugged. "If it gets me more time with you, sure."

  "But how did you get away?" I asked.

  "We told them we were going down to our rigs to work on stuff. Jared and I went down and fetched the magazines and games, Phillip went to the catering trailer and raided their supplies," Liam explained. "Then we all met up here."

  I glanced over at the camera crew focused on the living room, and the other crew focused on the kitchen. I figured they'd interfered by following, either because it was three guys and not just one sneaking over, or because they were going to include the injury. And then they'd plan to show which ones came running when it happened, and who showed up at my door later to check up on me.

  "Look, I appreciate the gesture. But I get cuts and scrapes all the time. You deal with it and move on. This doesn't have to be a big deal. I had the option of sitting today, so I sat. What pain there is will be gone by morning and we'll all move on."

  "In case you missed it," Jared confided with a lowered voice, "we're all trying to impress you. And taking advantage of an opportunity to spoil you is not something we're going to pass up."

  I laughed. "Well far be it from me to take the chance away from you."

  "What have you been working on all afternoon?" Liam asked with a head gesture toward my computer.

  "Editing a draft of one of my novels."

  A look and a round of smirks passed between the three of them.

  I scrunched my eyebrows at their reaction. "Is there something-?"

  Howling.

  The guys all started laughing.

  More howling.

  They laughed harder.

  I started to get up.

  Liam waved me down and he got up. "That dog has been pouting around the main house all day. She won't play, she won't run, I'm surprised she ventured far enough to track us down."

  He opened the door and Goldie looked inside, spotted me, and whimpered.

  "Come here," I told her with a sigh.

  She slowly moved forward, until I patted the couch next to me, then she picked up speed and jumped up with me. She sniffed until she found the bandage, licked my shorts near it, and then laid her head on my thigh with a thump of her tail.

  "She's not going to leave your side tonight," Jared said.

  "Yeah, I know," I answered.

  And so it was. We played the board game, ate a fabulous dinner, and said goodnight, all with a dog glued to my side. They tried to coax Goldie into leaving at the end of the evening, but it was a no-go.

  "She's fine, she can stay," I told them.

  The guys left, but Phillip came back a couple minutes later to retrieve the leftover ingredients he'd conveniently forgotten and was supposed to return to catering. "I really enjoyed the whole hair in a bun, glasses, and no makeup thing you had going on this evening," he said, referring to how I'd left my appearance after I'd changed and scrubbed my face from the interview. "I'll be nursing a naughty school-teacher fantasy or two tonight," he said with a wink before turning and walking to the door to leave again.

  "Now see?" I asked as I pushed Goldie aside and stood. "You had the perfect opportunity to follow that statement up with a kiss, and you turned to leave me instead."

  He grinned and turned to come back to me.

  I put my hand up to fend him off. "No, the moment's passed. You missed it," I said, my tone teasing.

  He stopped. "I was worried one of the others would come back, to move me along, and they'd see. I figured you wouldn't want to be caught in that situation."

  "So you left the stuff behind on purpose just to come back and throw out a little flirt?"

  He shook his head. "I did it so that I could be the one to leave the lasting impression on you tonight. But that doesn't help my cause if I leave you thinking that I'd messed up." He started towards me again.

  I moved behind the couch, a grin on my face. "But the other guys. Remember, they could come back."

  "Probably not," he said and caught me around the waist before he started walking me backwards into the kitchen.

  "You do
n't think they'd want to limit your private time with me?" I asked, looking into his eyes and trusting him not to run me into anything.

  He paused long enough to set the bag on the island before continuing our walk across the room. "Nah, they don't think I'm a threat. They just think I cook really well."

  "You were the only one who got red for both rounds of the Walk of Shame. How can you not be a threat?"

  He grinned. "I'm too nice for them to think I'll be competition for them when it really counts. And they'll probably just assume that I ran the stuff straight back to the trailer instead of catching up to them." He backed me against the cabinets, out of sight from the front windows. He lifted me until my lips were in line with his and spent long minutes thoroughly kissing me. He moved to whisper in my ear, "The next time you want me to touch you, all you have to do is say so." Then he nipped my ear before pulling out of my arms and picking his bag back up to leave.

  I sighed as I followed him back into the living room, suddenly realizing I didn't care how old he or his parents were. "Damn, you did it again."

  "What?"

  "I really thought you were only going to get pink this week."

  He shook his head as his grin broadened. "See? There you go. Don't underestimate me. You just might be the one making us both lose out."

  I smiled and watched him leave before turning and waving to Goldie. "Come on, girl, time for bed."

  Thursday

  "I saw your trio trying to sneak back in last night."

  I had just walked outside with Goldie and started heading for the track, when I heard his voice behind me and whipped my head around.

  Mike had pulled a patio chair into the shade of the overhang, and was sitting there.

  "Did they explain why?" I asked.

  He shook his head as he gestured for Goldie to come to him, which she did. "They don't know that I saw them. And it doesn't matter why, all that matters is that they did."

  "And why is that?"

  "Because, if they're going to break rules and sneak over to see you, then so am I."

  I gave him a big smile. "Awesome!"

  His shoulders relaxed now that he had my approval. "Are we running today?"

  I chuckled. "I was going to do poolside yoga."

  He gave me an expression that clearly stated I was out of my mind.

  "I guess I could go for a run," I said with a smile.

  "We could go to one of the gyms, or play tennis."

  "No, we can run."

  "Okay. Why don't you go get us a couple bottles of water and I'll get ready."

  I walked over to the outdoor fridge and got the two bottles.

  He gave me a consternated look and sighed. "I'll just go into your bathroom," he said as he reached for the large bag behind him. "I'll be right back."

  "You're already wearing workout clothes."

  "Yeah, but-" he started.

  "Just swap the leg out. Who cares?"

  He looked at me.

  "We have a finite amount of time to figure out if we're compatible enough to get married. If you're trying to shield me from the realities of your missing leg, don't. If I couldn't handle it, I'd have sent you home by now. If it's your own insecurities holding you back, then maybe coming on this show wasn't the best choice for you. You're welcome to leave at any time. Otherwise, let me get to know you, all of you, especially if you're going to come over here and steal time."

  He looked me dead in the eye and took off his leg.

  I met his determined gaze and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to get on with it.

  He switched the piece out and put on the running leg, then met my gaze again.

  I hadn't blanched, I hadn't flinched, I just asked, "You ready to go?"

  "Yeah." He stood and we took off down to the track, with Goldie trailing behind.

  "It was you on the rooftop yesterday morning, wasn't it?" I asked.

  "Yeah, I thought I was the only one who got up that early."

  "I do it so that I can get the workout done outside, before the place is crawling with cameras and people. It's my opportunity for some quiet solitude."

  "And I'm interrupting."

  "No, not as long as you don't hit me with issues or expect me to make decisions until the end."

  "I guess I can manage that."

  "You've been spending time with Goldie," I remarked.

  "So have you, she came out of your house this morning," he said. "What's with that big bandage on your leg?"

  I gestured toward Goldie. "She knocked me into the pool right after my run yesterday. I got scraped up on the way in."

  "Oh, man. Must have been right after I went back inside."

  "And she spent the evening and night snuggled up against me. She keeps sniffing and whimpering over a bandage. But you pull off your leg in front of her and she doesn't even lift her head. She's seen you do it before, hasn't she?"

  "She's become my workout buddy."

  "She just gets all around, doesn't she?"

  I trounced up the path, to the main house, when I smelled meat hit the grill.

  "Don't do it, Drake!" I yelled out as I cleared the path and he was about to bite into a potato chip.

  He pulled the chip away from his mouth. "It's alright. This crisp and salty chip is just fulfilling its destiny."

  I had to stop and smile at how Mr. Too Smooth had an immediate, calming, comeback about a stupid chip. "We're going out tonight. We're leaving at six-thirty and you need to be hungry."

  He put the chip back in his mouth and ate it, then he winked. "Sorry, it had a destiny. I'll be back. I have to go help the shower fulfill its destiny."

  I shook my head as I watched him leave.

  I chatted with the guys until it was time to leave and then we were off.

  "Where are we going?" Drake asked.

  "An Art Walk. They close the street down. There are a number of galleries open along the road and street performers pick outside locations. Restaurants set up outside stands and sell tapas. Bakeries set up tables and sell sweets. Acting troupes perform skits in the street. And there's usually a flash mob at some point."

  "Sounds really cool."

  "I just figured you work with musical artistry, I work with the written word..."

  "I get it. We can go appreciate other forms of artistry."

  "Exactly."

  I had a wonderful time exploring that tiny part of the city with him. And it opened up a lot of conversation about jobs and interests. But every time I tried to steer the conversation to his family, he changed the subject. I took the hint and stopped trying to ask after the third brush off.

  I think production talked to one of the street performance groups and Drake and I got pulled into it to ad-lib some lines and act out their scene with them. One of the galleries had a photography showing going on. The collection was waterfalls from around the country, and Drake and I kept pointing to the different ones we'd seen in person.

  There was another gallery, run by an art school, that put up prints of original masterpieces side-by-side with a few of their students' interpretations. We spent time comparing them and then tumbled into a conversation about singers and their differing performances of the same song.

  We were nearing the end of our time when Drake sidestepped and pulled me into an alley. He wasted no time kissing me in shadows while the cameras rolled with their zoom lenses.

  We talked the whole ride back to the property. Though, in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about how the kisses back in the alley had held no heat or zing for me.

  I left him at the main house and went back to the cottage. There was a movement in the shadows of the house when I emerged from the path, using the flashlight app on my phone to see. I shined the light on the spot the movement came from and found Goldie thumping her tail.

  "You done making the rounds tonight, girl?"

  She came forward to get her share of attention. I squatted down and let her lick my face as I gave her a good rubdown. I t
ried to shoo her away, and then thought about walking her down to Troy's trailer, where she'd been staying... But I didn't want her thinking I was trying to pawn her off on someone else. And for as much as she'd been bouncing from one group of humans to another around here, I didn't want her getting the idea that she wasn't mine anymore.

  I ended up letting her inside and she slept snuggled against me.

  Friday

  I slept in long enough the next morning to skip my workout. But I was showered, re-bandaged, dressed, and had my face painted on by breakfast time up at the main house.

  "Pancakes and sausage, milady," Liam offered a filled plate when I'd walked through the door. Obviously, they'd seen me coming.

  Ardent's eyes swept over me and his gaze caught on my shoes. "Thicker fabric clothing and hiking boots. You do love to beat me up on dates, don't you?"

  "Just trying to see if you can keep up."

  He smiled. "Looks like I'll have to pull out my Superman underwear today." He turned to leave the room to go change.

  "You have Superman underwear?" I asked, stifling a giggle.

  He paused and glanced back. "Yes, I do. And I'm not the only one here who does."

  "Oh, come on," Liam said. "Are you going to say that you don't own any embarrassing undies?"

  I smiled. "Well, there is that pair of Rudolph Christmas panties."

  "I rest my case," Liam said.

  "And the pair with the glow in the dark cat face across the rear I bought around Halloween," I added.

  "Now see? You're just painting images in our heads now," Ardent said as he walked out.

  "Twenty minutes!" I called after him and grabbed the syrup bottle.

  Fifteen minutes and a plate of breakfast later, we climbed into the car and set out.

  "I gotta tell you," Ardent said, "It's nice to get out and about. The house is nice, and I can still escape down to my RV, but it gets to feeling a bit claustrophobic after awhile."

  "I can understand. It's the lack of freedom that wears you down."

  "Yeah. So, where are we running off to?"

  "Vasquez Rocks Natural Area Park."

  "Ah. So we'll be climbing around on rocks."

  "Yeah. Something around here that I haven't done yet."