Seven Exes Are Eight Too Many

by Heather Wardell

  "They're here," Phillip said from his assigned seat next to me, his eyes fixed on the opposite side of the clearing, and the tension in the tent quadrupled.

  Aaron, at the far end of the table, turned to his neighbor Sam and muttered something. Sam nodded and turned to Michael, and Aaron's statement moved up the table.

  Greg whispered it to Phillip as Kent arrived, Phillip nodded, and my exes rose to their feet when Kent's exes walked in with Peter and a camera crew bringing up the rear. I restrained myself from bursting into laughter at their surprisingly chivalrous behavior, but only just.

  Peter directed Kent to the chair opposite mine, and he stood behind it, looking down at his hands gripping its back, while his exes found their places.

  My pent-up laughter faded as I stared at his hands, strong and scarred from years of construction work, and refused to remember the feel of them on my body. He'd always wanted to hold my hand or wrap an arm around me, and I'd loved how strongly the contact bonded us. We hadn't only been lovers, although we'd been great there too: he'd been a true friend.

  Summer took the chair next to Kent's, and my exes and Kent sat down as the camera crew arranged itself around the tent. Peter said, "I hope you have an enjoyable meal, Ladies and Courtiers, and of course Princess and Prince. The food will be arriving shortly."

  And it did. Soup and spaghetti and corn on the cob. A strange selection, but it was so much better than rice that nobody minded. I longed to throw myself onto the table and eat everything I could reach, but forced myself to behave. This would be on television, after all.

  Summer grinned. "MC, prepare for inquisition. I want to know all about you."

  "Nothing to tell." I felt impossibly bland in contrast with her.

  "True." Phillip's smile didn't hide how much he meant it.

  I heard Kent draw a quick breath, but Summer tapped Phillip's hand. "Come on now, you're too good-looking to be such a jerk," she said, her voice warm and teasing, and Phillip blushed, probably for the first time in his life.

  Turning back to me, Summer said, "So, what does MC stand for, anyhow?"

  I told her, and she said, "Gorgeous name. I've always loved Madeleine. Mine's ridiculous. I'm clearly an Autumn not a Summer, but I was born in July and my parents have no imagination. Do your parents call you MC too?"

  Kent dropped his fork, and it bounced off the table and hit the ground. A waiter brought him a replacement, and Summer said, "My clumsy boy," before refocusing on me and mercifully moving on from the parent question. "And how did you meet this crazy man?"

  I glanced at the camera operator standing at the head of the table. So awkward being filmed. "His ex-girlfriend started dating my friend Craig."

  "Which ex is that?" Summer half-stood and peered down the table.

  "Her name's Charlotte, but she's not here," Kent said. "Why don't you eat instead of quizzing MC?" Our eyes met for a split second, the first time that day, then he looked away.

  "Oh, eat, I can do that any time." She dropped back into her chair. "Quizzing MC, though, this might be my only chance." She grinned again and went on. "So you saw Kent across a crowded room and it was love at first sight?"

  No, it took a few hours.

  I'd gone to a bar with Craig and Liv, and Charlotte and lots of her friends, mostly guys she'd dated. The outgoing Liv had been the object of every man's attention. Except Kent's.

  I'd been sure at first that he'd only talked to me because he felt sorry for me, but he was so interesting I'd stopped caring. We sat together for hours while the others danced and drank, and when they went on to another bar he walked me home. After hours more talking at my apartment we fell asleep on my couch, my head on his shoulder and his arm around me.

  When I woke up I was shocked at myself for letting a stranger stay over, but even then I'd known he was one of the good ones. We spent that whole day together, and when he kissed me for the first time as the sun set I felt like I'd found a missing piece of my soul.

  "Earth to MC." Summer waved at me. "Quit fantasizing about Kent and answer me."

  My cheeks blazed, I couldn't stop myself looking at the camera again, and Kent said, "Summer, honestly. Leave her alone," making me feel even more awkward.

  "Well, you won't tell me anything," she said, giving him a jokingly pouting look. "So how else can I find out?"

  Phillip, recovered from Summer's earlier chastisement, said, "Why would you want to?"

  "We're all dying to know about her." She gestured down the table at Kent's other exes. "Kent won't say a word, so we're curious."

  Turning to me, she said, "At least tell me why you broke up."

  I couldn't have even if I'd wanted to, too choked up to speak. I'd made Kent promise not to tell future girlfriends about me and our relationship, hating the idea of him discussing all my flaws and issues with some other woman. The realization that he'd kept his word, even after how much I'd hurt him at the end, was overwhelming.

  My eyes met his, and he gave me the ghost of a smile. Drawing strength from it, I raised my eyebrows and shot what I hoped was a confident smile at Summer. "I don't kiss and tell."

  "Oh, I do," she said. "All the best stories involve sex."

  Kent knocked over his water glass. He'd never been this uncoordinated before, but Summer didn't seem surprised. Sopping up the water, she said, "I can't take you anywhere, Kent."

  He said, "So true," and left the table to get more napkins.

  Summer turned to me and shook her head. "You won't believe this, but he spilled red wine on me at our wedding. I was talking to his grandmother and started to tell her how we'd had to get married, and he bumped into the table and knocked a glass over. I looked like a crime scene."

  My mouth opened but I didn't have words. Phillip, naturally, did, and for once they were the ones I wanted him to say. "You two are married?"

  Kent returned and took his seat, then jumped as Summer said, "Divorced," in an unconcerned tone. "A starter marriage, really, not even a year."

  I looked at Kent but he was focused on wiping up the rest of the water. He'd told me he wanted a marriage like his parents', thirty-six years when we were together and still going strong. What had happened?

  Summer winked at Phillip. "Like I said, we had to get married."

  Kent jerked his head up and said, "Don't--" as Phillip said, "Oh, I'm sorry--"

  "We couldn't keep our hands off each other, so we had to get married." She giggled, and I felt sure she'd said it, in exactly that way, many times before. Kent couldn't possibly have wanted her to tell his deeply religious grandmother.

  Kent stared at his plate. My cheeks burned, probably nearly as red as his, and even Phillip seemed taken aback. The words 'couldn't keep our hands off each other' echoed in my head, and I fought to keep from picturing it, hauling up my sunset image instead. How could Kent have loved me if he loved her, with her vibrant openness?

  Summer said, "Oh, guys, give me a break. We're all adults, right? What's wrong with admitting I love sex?"

  Had she meant to say it as loud as she did, especially the last three words? The hush that dropped over the table made it clear everyone had heard.

  Aaron came over, extended his hand, and said, "Nice to meet you. Will you marry me?"

  She shook his hand, laughing. "You're Aaron, right? Ask me again in a week or two. I barely know you."

  He kissed her fingers, winked at me, and returned to his seat.

  Kent took a deep breath. "Phillip, how'd you end up on this show?"

  Phillip launched into a rant about his expected prince-hood, and the unfairness of having to live with me and the guys instead of the seven women he'd expected, and my cheeks gradually returned to their normal temperature.

  When Phillip was finished, Summer turned to me. "How'd you get here?"

  I sighed. "It's a long story." It wasn't, but nobody knew and I wasn't about to tell Summer. Not to mention Phillip. I gave my usual explanation instead, honed in the months since I'd been accepted to the sho
w. "Basically, I'd tried online dating, blind dates, that horrible speed dating, and this seemed like it might work. I just want to find a nice guy."

  "Sing it, sister. They're all either married or gay." She laughed and added, "Or both."

  "I'm neither," Phillip said.

  "But I'm not sure you're nice, either. Naughty, maybe." Summer looked at him from under her lashes, her tone turning sensual on the last words. Phillip blushed again.

  She was everything I could never be: wild, uninhibited, and no doubt the life of every party. I wanted to hate her but I couldn't. She'd embarrassed me but I didn't think she'd meant to, and I did like the effortless way she shut Phillip down.

  But she made one thing perfectly clear: Kent and I had no future. If Summer was his type, I most definitely was not. Good thing I'd decided to go for the money instead of reconnecting with the guys.

  "Did you think you were going to be on 'Stranded!'?" I asked Summer.

  "I wouldn't have gone near that show. I like camping, but come on. No, I was supposed to be competing for a fashion designer job."

  "That's what you do?"

  She nodded. "And you?"

  "Software developer," I said. Could there be a better indicator of the difference between us? Flamboyant and artistic versus strait-laced and precise.

  She turned to Phillip. "Let me guess, you're a banker?"

  He shook his head. "Lawyer. Corporate law."

  "Ah. I figured it was something high-powered." She gave him a smile that took the sting from her words. He smiled back and her eyes widened. He was attractive when he wanted to be.

  With the air of one who knew he had to ask, Phillip turned to Kent. "What do you do?"

  As Kent answered, I realized with a shock that he hadn't gone after any of the opportunities he'd been considering when we were together. His career had stagnated.

  "How'd you end up here?" Phillip's tone barely avoided a sneer. He didn't like Kent. Not a big surprise.

  "Same as MC," he said. "Haven't been able to find anyone, thought this might work."

  Summer turned concerned eyes on him. "But you've dated since we split up, right? It's been ages!"

  Kent shook his head, and she touched his shoulder gently but didn't speak. The food churned in my stomach at the sweetness of her expression. She obviously still cared. Did he care about her? How much?

  After a moment, Summer said to Phillip, "So, who'd you vote for in the last election?"

  He answered, and when Summer said she'd voted for the other party they launched into a heated debate. Kent and I ate in silence.

  At last, we were all too full to talk, never mind eat, and sat toying with coffee cups. Peter stepped to the head of the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you've enjoyed your meal?"

  We were loud in our appreciation.

  "Wonderful. Now, the contest."

  We'd have to be rolled to wherever it was.

  "Royalty, and the royal Courts, must be polite and dignified, don't you agree?" He didn't wait to see if we did. "That's why we've had etiquette consultants watching your every move during this meal."

  I choked on the last bit of my coffee. Had my exes behaved themselves?

  "Ladies, overall you were well behaved although our consultants did notice some of you grabbing for food. Also, certain topics, such as sex and politics, are not appropriate at first meetings, and neither is pelting someone with questions. You receive a collective rating of thirty-four out of fifty."

  Several of the women glared at Summer, who didn't seem to notice. Turning to my side of the table, Peter said, "Courtiers, to the one who belched at the end of the meal, the proper response is 'Excuse me' not 'Better out than in'."

  I put a hand over my mouth to hide my grin. I'd tried throughout our months together to stop Sam saying that, and had eventually succeeded. Apparently it hadn't stuck.

  "In addition, spaghetti is not to be slurped, and soup should be spooned away from you. However, your behavior when the ladies entered was exemplary, and the rest of your manners were good as well. Your score is thirty-six out of fifty."

  Peter turned to me, and nervousness filled me. "Princess, you're not much of a conversationalist, are you?"

  Phillip laughed. Summer slapped his hand, hard this time.

  Peter went on. "But you were reasonably friendly and pleasant when you did speak, and you didn't make a single mistake with your food. Your rating is thirty-eight out of fifty."

  All eyes turned to Kent.

  "Prince, much the same applies to you. You actually said less than the Princess, and our consultants wanted to see you more involved in the conversation, but you did handle the dropped fork and spilled water without making a big deal, which was excellent."

  Summer patted Kent on the shoulder. "You've had practice with that sort of thing, haven't you?"

  They both burst out laughing. I looked away, hating the intimacy between them.

  Peter paused until I could barely stand the suspense, then said, "Your score is also thirty-eight out of fifty, which means the Princess's Court wins again."

  *****

  "So he's bad at puzzles and rude." Jim turned to me. "How did he get all those great women?"

  "Must be hung like a--"

  "He's not rude," I said before Phillip could finish, "and I don't think he's bad at puzzles either. We barely beat him both times."

  "You do remember he's our competition, right?"

  "Of course." I gave Dean back the same snarky tone he'd given me. "But that doesn't mean we have to--"

  "Kent!" Aaron took off across camp, and my heart gave a quick flutter before I realized he was chasing the rodent version. The rat disappeared into the jungle and Aaron returned to us, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have run after it, I scared it. Phillip, you talked to him. Is he rude?"

  The words 'pot', 'kettle', and 'black' echoed in my mind but I kept them to myself. Phillip shrugged. "More painfully shy, I'd say. Doesn't have much to talk about, from what I could tell."

  "He's got tons to--" I cut myself off.

  "And again she defends him," Dean said.

  Michael cleared his throat. "He's not here to defend himself," he said, his voice raspy. "Makes sense she wouldn't want us saying mean stuff."

  "It's not mean, it's a fact," Phillip said. "I can see why Summer dumped him. He'd have been okay for you, but she must have been bored to tears."

  I bit my lip as Greg and Aaron agreed with him. If I stood up for Kent again Dean would kill me. And he was our competition so I shouldn't be standing up for him anyhow. But I'd never once found him boring. And I wasn't sure Summer did either.

  "Why'd you guys break up?" Aaron said.

  "What, me and Kent?"

  "No, you and the rat. Of course you and Kent."

  I scrambled to find an explanation they'd accept without wanting more detail.

  "Don't make something up. Tell us the truth."

  Not a chance. I'd only told Liv and Craig, and neither of them had understood. The guys would never get it, and even if by some miracle they did, I didn't want them to know. I settled for, "I didn't fit in with his family." Mostly a lie, but the tiny bit of truth in it seemed to register with Aaron; he looked doubtful but let it go.

  Taking advantage of the opportunity, I grabbed the conversation's steering wheel and gave it a sharp turn. "What did you guys learn about the women? Might help us beat them."

  "Oh, you want to beat them?"

  "Dean, shut up already. Of course I do. I've got big plans for that million bucks."

  A brief silence greeted this, which Greg broke by saying, "Lily's sweet but she didn't say anything useful."

  Faith and Kayla had been more forthcoming with Aaron. "They said Kent's even quieter than he usually is, and he's spending most of his time with Summer."

  Sam added, "They don't like her much. She never shuts up and she parades around in a tiny bathing suit."

  "We told them you do too," Aaron said, shooting me a grin. He didn't seem
remotely embarrassed by his pass at me the day before. If I'd been rejected like that I'd have been humiliated, but I was glad he was still on my side. Dean, Phillip, and Greg definitely weren't, and with Jim indifferent and Michael acting weird, I needed Sam and Aaron.

  "You did not tell them that."

  "He did, actually," Sam said, smiling at me, "but I told them it wasn't all that tiny."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "They'll be easy to beat anyhow," Greg said. "We've done it twice. We're unstoppable."

  Most of us clapped and cheered, and Sam high-fived me, but Aaron and Michael exchanged glances. "Not so fast." Aaron looked unusually serious. "Take today's contest. There wasn't even a prize. They're throwing weird stuff at us, and who knows what it'll take to win."

  In the excitement of winning I hadn't noticed, but he was right: no prize. Strange.

  Jim wasn't concerned, though. "If we keep kicking butt we'll be fine."

  "The game can change in a second."

  "But it'll change for them too," Jim said. "That's no reason to freak out."

  Michael turned to me. "Peter made it sound like you're in charge, but we don't know what that means yet. You picked who was in that first contest, but there might be more to it. We can't assume we'll keep winning."

  "I don't think anyone's saying that," I said, "but--"

  "I'll say it," Phillip said, and Greg nodded. "We have way more men. It's in the bag."

  I looked at Phillip, wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"

  "Why, did you--"

  "Don't start that again. You think we'll win just because we have more guys?"

  He shrugged. "Hey, men are stronger. Everyone knows that."

  "Not all men are stronger than all women. Besides, none of the contests so far have been based on strength."

  "But some will be, right?" He turned to Aaron for confirmation. At Aaron's reluctant nod, Phillip said, "See? So we'll win for sure."

  "But there's more to it than strength," Michael said, annoyance in his tone, and I bit back my angry response to Phillip. "It's true we're doing great, but we can't get over-confident."

  "You know, you're right." Greg ran his eyes over us all. "We've got good reason to be optimistic, but I think we should be cautious too."