The Fabulist

by Chiletz, Dawn L.

  I count steps and turns. They match. I need to figure out how to get back on this floor later. Once we’re inside the elevator, Bryce tells me I can remove the headband. It takes me a few seconds to adjust to the light. It’s just Bryce, the cameraman, and me.

  “Is everyone already downstairs?”

  “We brought them down right after you left.”

  “Have you met him?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Actually, no, I have not. I think they were worried I’d slip up if I knew too much.”

  I assess whether or not he’s telling me the truth. I believe him and for a moment, I consider why I doubt him. Fifteen minutes with The Fabulist, and I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.

  Once we’re back on the first floor, he reminds me it’s completely up to me what I’m willing to share.

  I wander toward the bar. Almost everyone has gathered there. It’s almost one and lunch has been set up buffet-style in the bar. I assume because of the challenge tonight, whatever it may be.

  Cocoa is speaking with Brenda in a corner and they’re laughing. They’re so different, I wonder how I could like one and hate the other and somehow they could get along. Cocoa turns and my eyes dart to her cameraman. It’s Hogan. He’s a sight for sore eyes. Part of me wants to rush over and tell him what happened, but another part of me is uneasy. I’m not sure why.

  All eyes are on me within a matter of seconds. I don’t see Carmen, and she’s the only person I want to talk to. Cocoa and Brenda both turn to me when the room grows quiet and Hogan glances over his shoulder to see what everyone’s staring at. His eyes soften when he sees me.

  DJ nods, grins, and motions toward the elevators. Pretending not to see him, I avoid making eye contact and swivel to leave. He’s crazy if he thinks I’m telling him anything. Not that there’s much to tell. Sarge immediately rushes to me and reaches for my arm.

  “How was it? You’ve got to give us something!”

  I glance down at his hand, then back up at his face. “Are you still in an alliance with the other group?”

  “Um, I don’t know. Why?”

  “Well, until you’re sure, I won’t be sharing anything.”

  Carmen exits the bathroom. I sigh in relief and make my way to her. She doesn’t notice me until I’m almost directly in front of her.

  “Oh my gosh! How was it? What did he say? Tell me everything.”

  Arms intertwined, we wander toward the boardroom, away from curious eyes and listening ears. When we’re far enough away, I whisper, “Honestly, he didn’t give me much. He told me I should express my thoughts more clearly. Less fluff, I believe. He did tell me I only had one wrong answer on the first challenge and none on the second. He said my explanations need more work.” I feel uneasy. “I think I’m going to go up to the room. I’ll tell you the rest later.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “I’m not hungry. I need to clear my head.”

  “Okay, Sammy. No worries.”

  I know I don’t have to warn her not to tell anyone anything. She knows better. As soon as I walk past the bar, DJ rises from his seat. He’s following me, and I don’t want to talk to him. I scan the room as I rush past. Hogan smiles at me, but I can’t bring myself to smile back. I need to get away from everyone and process what just happened. The toothpick in his mouth switches sides as his lips curl down. His eyebrows furrow as he watches me pass. I hurry to the elevators. Just as I press the button, there he is.

  “Hey,” DJ says, placing his arm around my shoulder. I shrug it off quickly. The female camera operator is with me again, and I remember how badly I wanted to speak with her about last night.

  “Whoa.” He reacts to my obvious irritation. “Are you okay?”

  He steps closer and for a minute, I consider giving him a push. He’s in my space and I don’t like it. Then it hits me. I’d told Jack I liked him. He knows. Why else would he feel comfortable touching me all of a sudden? I decide I’d better play the game.

  I lean my head on his shoulder and he puts his arm back around me. “What’s wrong, babe?”

  Babe… eww. “I’ve had a rough day, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He rubs my back with his hand as my forehead stays pressed to his shoulder. Good thing my stomach is empty or I would barf.

  “You want to come back to my room and talk?”

  I lift my head. “You mean to your room, which you share with my worst enemy? Umm, no. I’ll pass.”

  “Don’t be that way,” he says as he attempts to smile at me sweetly.

  It’s so obvious he thinks I’m into him. “DJ, I just can’t. Do you know how much it hurts me to know that you side with him over me?”

  He bends his knees to gaze into my eyes. “I don’t. Why would you think that?”

  “After yesterday, and Cocoa, I thought… I thought you and I… just forget it.” As I turn and push away from him, I glance toward the bar. Hogan is standing there, sans camera, and staring at us. His nostrils are flared, and his posture is rigid. A second later, he’s gone.

  My mouth opens briefly and I think of calling out to him. Did he see me with my head on DJ’s shoulder? Does he think something’s going on with us? I’m thankful Carmen asked me about DJ yesterday in front of him. He should know better. And why should I have to explain myself to him? I don’t owe him anything. I certainly don’t belong to him or anyone.

  “You and I what?” DJ asks, stepping closer. “I know, Sam. I know how you feel.” He bends his neck, leaning toward me and I panic. No way in hell is he kissing me. No fucking way.

  “Someone’s coming,” I say, forcefully shoving him away. “I need to go.”

  The elevator doors open, but I don’t want him to follow me, so I rush back to the bar.

  Hogan is speaking to Bryce, camera in his hand. Tex strolls toward me. DJ hurries into the bar behind me and quickly joins Stuck-Up. I need to get out of here. As quickly as I enter, I exit, practically running to the bathroom. Inside, I lean against the wall and try to breathe. This day is not going as planned.

  The female camera operator rushes inside, but she’s not filming. “Hey, are you all right?” she asks.

  I’m thankful she doesn’t have the camera in her hands. I don’t even know her name. “Yeah. Just really overwhelmed.”

  “You’re pretty popular today.” She laughs. “I’ll give you some time alone.”

  “Hey, yesterday in the bar…” I hold up a hand and glance under the stalls to make sure we’re alone. Dropping it when I know we are.

  She smiles and shifts the camera from one hand to another. “You mean with Hogan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve switched places with him a few times at his request. He doesn’t ask for that with anyone but you.”

  Somehow her words heal a part of me I didn’t know felt broken. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

  “You’re worried about what he saw, aren’t you?”

  “Was I that obvious?”

  “Just to me. I’ve been with you for a few days. Let me see what I can do.”

  “Wait, what’s your name?” I ask as she stops with her hand on the door.

  “Rene.”

  “Thank you, Rene.”

  I lean my head against the wall. It’s cool and feels good on my skin. I close my eyes and take a few steadying breaths. When I feel like I might have a grip, I slowly open the door. I take the back way to the elevators to avoid being seen.

  Sliding my key into the lock and pushing it open, I hear Brenda’s voice and then another. What the fuck is going on here?

  “HEY, ROOMIE.”

  I try my best to smile, but I can’t. Cocoa is sitting on my bed and my first reaction is to tackle her to the ground.

  “I guess I should go,” Cocoa states, rising.

  “Ya think?” I respond.

  “See what I mean?” she says, frowning. “Bye, Brenda. Thanks again.”

  As soon as she’s gone, my first instinct is
too lay into Brenda, but I don’t. I’m too tired. There’s a cameraman in our room, and I’m disappointed it’s not Hogan.

  “Sorry about that,” Brenda apologizes. “I know you two don’t get along.”

  “No we don’t. Just be careful, Brenda. I don’t trust her.”

  “I know and for the record, neither do I.”

  Her response shocks me. Apparently my reaction says it all.

  “I think I need to tell you something. You’re not going to like it.”

  I sink onto the bed, concerned. “What?”

  “Courtney was super friendly today. She’s barely said two words to me since this whole thing started, so right away I knew something was up.”

  I’m glad to hear Brenda didn’t fall for her tricks. I scratch my head and kick off my flats, crossing my legs on the bed.

  “She was asking me about my life back home. She told me she was glad I’d decided to be in an alliance with them, even though I never said that. And then she said she wanted to let me in on a few things, but she didn’t feel comfortable doing it in the bar. She asked if we could go to my room.”

  Brenda stands, takes a quick look out the window, then leans on the wall next to the air conditioner. “We came up here and she made a bunch of small talk about how they found out George is recently divorced and his daughter wants nothing to do with him. Nothing of importance. All of a sudden she asked if I felt okay. I asked why and she said I was pale. She said maybe I should go put a wet rag on my forehead. I was feeling flushed, you know, with menopause starting and all, so I went to the bathroom to get a washrag. I ran the water and checked myself in the mirror. I wasn’t pale, but I shrugged it off.”

  Still pissed Cocoa was even in my room, I try not to let her story bother me. I know there’s a point to it, but I just want to lie down. I’m exhausted.

  “She obviously thought she had more time,” Brenda says.

  And then I get it. Standing, I lift the mattress and it’s gone.

  “I have it,” Brenda says. “I caught her red-handed. She tried to claim the mattress felt odd and she wanted to straighten it out, but I knew, right then and there.”

  “Did she look inside?” I ask hopefully.

  “Yep. I snatched it out of her hands. She feigned innocence but then was quick to point out how concerning it was.” She reaches under her pillow, pulls out my notebook, and hands it back to me. “She said you had the answers to the next challenge. Is that true?”

  Laughing, I take it from her. “No. It’s a big fat lie. I had a suspicion Jack in the bar was in cahoots with her and…” I trail off. I don’t want to admit to the nicknames.

  “With who? George? Ervin? Carter?”

  The minute she says his name I point at her. “Carter, but I’m not sure who else is in on it. Did she swear you to secrecy?”

  “Yes, but you’re my roommate and I don’t lie well.”

  “Thank you, Brenda. I really appreciate you being honest with me. Please don’t tell her I know. I’m trying to play this little game for as long as possible.”

  She slowly descends onto the bed. “So the answers aren’t real?”

  “Not at all. All I did was write down a list of numbers and put T’s and F’s after them. I have no clue. I just know they have it out for me, so I figured two could play their game.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I believe you, although this whole thing about there being a traitor among us has me worried. Listen, I’m going to go get a drink. I’ll be back up in a while to get ready for tonight.”

  She slips on her shoes and makes her way to the door. “For the record, consider me on your side from here on out.”

  “Done.”

  I pull back my covers and slide inside. I set the alarm for 2:30 and pray a little sleep will make everything clearer. I never expected this game to mess with my head quite this much. I need to get it together and fast.

  After an hour nap, I feel better. I take a quick shower and begin the process of getting ready for the night’s challenge. I’m pleased the cameraman left as soon as I climbed into bed. It’s hard to fall asleep knowing there’s a complete stranger in the room. It’s still creepy to know the cameras are recording us and The Fabulist is watching, but at least I can pull the covers over my head and hide.

  Careful to get dressed in the bathroom, I slip on my bustier and a black sequined strapless dress. It was on clearance at Bingham’s and with my employee discount, I splurged and bought it. It’s been hanging in my closet with the tags still on it until today. I’m glad it still fits. I curl my hair and put pins in it, twisting it into a cute little updo. It’s super fun to dress up.

  I’m finishing in the bathroom when the room door opens and Brenda enters, followed by a cameraman.

  “I’m back, roomie. You almost done in there?” Brenda asks.

  “It’s all yours.”

  “Whoa. You are gorgeous!” Brenda cups her face as she stares at me.

  “Thank you. I’m going downstairs for to face the music. I’m sure everyone’s dying to know about today.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to ask.”

  Slipping on my heels, I say, “He was very charismatic, from what I could tell in the dark. He was straight to the point. He didn’t mince words and never said more than he had to. I’m not sure what I got out of it, other than he has a sense of humor and wants straightforward, well thought-out answers.”

  “Thank you for sharing,” Brenda says cheerfully, pulling a wardrobe bag from our closet. “I’m going to start getting ready. I’ll see you downstairs soon.”

  I consider going to Carmen’s room to see if she’s ready, but the idea of running into Cocoa deters me. I hate that I can’t just text her. It would make things so much easier.

  My heels feel oddly comfortable, even though it’s been over a month since I’ve had to wear them. Stepping off the elevator and rounding the corner to the dining room to see if it’s open yet, I notice the crew is hustling about, setting up and they’ve all changed into black.

  High-Rise is sitting alone at a table in the bar, watching the crew run around. He’s dressed in a tuxedo. Grinning, I join him.

  “Wow, look at you in your penguin suit.”

  He smiles genuinely. “And look at you.” He stands and motions for me to twirl, so I oblige.

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen you in anything other than tennis shoes and jeans. You look lovely.”

  “Thanks. Are we the only two here so far?”

  “It appears so. It’s been chaotic around here for the last few hours, but even more so now. I can’t imagine what they have in store for us tonight.”

  “I’m going to nose around a little. I’ll see you later.”

  “Sam,” he says, stopping me. “Good game today. I was quite stroppy.”

  Pretending to understand him, I smile politely.

  Stroppy? What does that mean? I’ve never heard the word before. I wander out of the bar and over to the boardroom. The doors are open, so I peek inside. Hogan is dressed in black and crouched down, setting up equipment.

  “Hi,” I say quietly, feeling the need to clear the air between us.

  His head turns to regard me as his body continues to face his work. He does a double-take and stands. “Wow.”

  I smile. “What do you think? I clean up well, huh?”

  His gaze roams over me as he steps closer. “Sam, you’re absolutely stunning.”

  Pushing the loose hair away from my eyes, I try my best to contain my satisfaction at the gleam in his.

  “I knew you were beautiful before, but damn.” It’s as if something clicks in his mind. His smile fades and he returns to his work.

  As much as I feel I don’t owe him an explanation for earlier, clearing things up will take my mind off him and allow me to concentrate on the challenge tonight. “Can I talk to you?”

  He regards me from his squatting position by the box of wires he’s working with. The expression on his face tells me he can’t keep tal
king to me.

  Motioning toward the diary room, I ask, “Excuse me, do you think you could show me how to turn this camera on again?”

  He shakes his head and smirks. “Sure.”

  He follows me inside and I close the door behind us. “About earlier, with DJ—”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  My hands move to my hips. “I know I don’t, but I want to tell you, so will you let me, for fuck’s sake?”

  He waves his hand to me. “I’m all ears.”

  “He’s a backstabbing two-timer and I told Jack, the bartender, I liked him because I had a feeling Jack was helping Stuck-Up and his crew. DJ put the moves on me and confirmed Jack’s on the inside. I don’t like DJ. I don’t like Stuck-Up or Jack or Tex…” I count them on my hand.

  “You forgot Ervin and Thomas,” he adds sarcastically.

  “I don’t care for them either. I certainly didn’t like DJ touching me. I wanted to puke. Guys think they can jump all over you whenever they want just because you smile at them. It’s a pathetic indication of how bad our society is today when a smile is considered a proposition by overbearing, testosterone-filled jerks who think their gender gives them rights.”

  He nods and squints at me as he crosses his arms. “I see.”

  I sigh as I tilt my head to the side in frustration. “You seemed angry when you saw us together, and even though I owe you absolutely nothing, I felt I should explain, if for no other reason but to clear my head for the challenge tonight.”

  “Rene mentioned you were worried about me.”

  His grin sends me into denial. Vigorously shaking my head, I emphatically say, “No. I don’t know why she’d tell you that. I don’t care what you think. This is a game I need to win and I intend to play it as I see fit. I don’t care if you like it or not.”

  He pauses to examine my defensiveness. I can’t help it with him. As much as I want him to know I have all these strange feelings for him, when I’m around him, my instincts to be difficult kick in, especially when he’s acting as cocky as he is now.

  “If you don’t care what I think, why tell me anything at all? Maybe you do care more than you want to. After all, I know how badly you want to get me alone.” His eyebrows rise in succession and it sends me over the edge.