“Girl, someone’s paying me to spend the summer losing weight—something I was going to do for free—and I get to hang around my fave person from grad school in her hometown? I was all in.” His eyes twinkled as he flashed a wide grin.
“Jordy, this is Mac Bisset and Taylor Rhone. My two best friends in the world, whether they like it or not. This is Niecy, my girl from undergrad, and this is my cousin Sharon. We all call her Sugar. I couldn’t tell you why.”
“Because I’m so damn sweet,” Sugar snarled with a smirk.
“Right. Everyone, this is Jordan Little. Jordy got me through many a late-night study session. He was a saint to put up with me.”
He snorted with a mischievous smile. “Is that what you thought? That I was saintly?” He laughed. “I was trying to figure out how to talk you into bed.”
I was stunned. “What?! You never said anything or made a move.”
“Apparently my moves were too subtle.” He met my eyes and grinned in a charming way I hadn’t noticed before.
“Apparently.” I’d had no clue, never thought of him in anything but a platonic way.
“Yeah, well, you were pretty messed up over”—he hitched his chin down the table toward Malachi—“you know. I was biding my time. But now I’m here; you’re here. Everyone’s grown. Am I being less subtle?”
I goggled at him in amazement. “Um. What happened to your wife?”
“Aw, well . . . Like Scarlett O’Hara, she’s gone with the wind. Met some exotic brother from Haiti and took off for parts unknown.” He fluttered his hands in a flying gesture.
I put my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Jordy. I didn’t know.”
He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Water. Bridges. Spilt milk. All of that. Thankfully, I’m over it. Life goes on. What about you? You still waiting for the Bayou Blue Streak to catch a clue and do right?”
Taylor and Mac burst into laughter. Mac slapped Jordy on the back. “I like this guy.”
I nodded in agreement. “Me too. And no, I’m not waiting for Malachi to turn into someone different. Me and this town are still just a speed bump on his way to bigger and better things.”
Taylor shook her head. “Is he going back to the NFL?”
“He’s got a tryout in three months.”
Ruby walked over at that moment. “Who has a tryout? Mal?”
“Yep.”
“Some things don’t change.” She sucked her teeth.
“You don’t know the half,” Mac muttered and I shot him a look.
“Jordy, the food’s here! You betta come get it before it’s gone,” Suzette screeched out from the other table, while sending me a look that all but screamed for my imminent demise.
Jordy leaned in. “What the hell is that woman’s story and why does she hate you so?”
“There was some Mean Girl–type drama back in high school; she’s still not over it,” I whispered.
“Whoa. Stuck in high school over a decade later. All right, then.” He ran a hand across my shoulder as he moved away. “Love to spend some time with you while I’m here, girl. If you’d like.” His hand lingered, one finger slightly grazing my collarbone in a blatant caress.
It wasn’t at all unpleasant. In fact, it was quite a nice surprise. Hmm. I hadn’t seen that one coming. I met his eyes and raised a brow. He was interested, he was serious, and he wasn’t hiding it. The idea intrigued me. Someone who put their cards on the table? No games? Tempting. “I don’t see why not,” I answered in a slightly breathy voice.
“Good. That’s real good. I’ll talk to you later.” With a last smile in my direction and a nod to the rest of the table, Jordan walked away.
“Um, Miss Thing?” Ruby asked, sliding into the seat Jordan had vacated. “What was that?”
Taylor had jokes. “At last count, that would be Guy Number Two who hit on Carissa Melody today.”
Mac added, “In the last two hours. In front of witnesses.”
Sugar leaned in. “What? Rissa’s getting her groove back?”
“You do know no one really says that anymore, right?” I informed her.
“I know when you’re avoiding a question, cuz,” Sugar said with a gleam in her eye.
“Do tell?” Ruby nudged my arm. “You ’bout ready to give up your dry spell?”
Taylor cackled. “She has been keeping the goodies on lock for a while now.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” I countered.
“We’re talking about you and your epic dry spell, ma’am.”
I rolled my eyes. “Could we all lower our voices? I see no need to discuss my self-imposed celibacy with this entire restaurant.”
“Did someone over there say ‘celibate’? Did I hear that right?” Bliss, the producer who could apparently lip-read, squeaked from across the room. The entire restaurant fell silent and eyes swung toward our end of the table.
I quickly pointed at Taylor. “She’s not getting any. It’s tragic. We’re going to work on that.” I ignored the kick in the shins she sent my way as I smiled innocently. “Who’s ready to order? This being my last supper and all.”
Laughter rippled through the space and most of the patrons went back to minding their own business. I glanced up to catch Malachi cheesing with all of his teeth at me. Last damn thing I needed him to overhear.
“Problem?” he mouthed.
“Not at all,” I mouthed back with a “shoo-fly-don’t-bother-me” wave of my hand. I determinedly turned my head.
Ruby whistled. “You and Mal? You and Jordy? Are you about to turn our wholesome town show into some hot mess TV? Love triangles and relationship drama?”
I closed my eyes. “God, I hope not. Can I get the catfish platter with a mixed green salad and the bread pudding for dessert? Oh, and wine. Lots and lots of wine.”
Ruby stood up as her waitstaff came over to get the rest of the dinner orders. “Girl, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I don’t have a clue. But you guys got me into this; I expect you to help me navigate whatever comes next.”
Niecy smiled. “We got you, girl. I mean, how much drama could one former prom queen generate?”
“Well, now you’ve jinxed it,” I moaned. Before the words had completely dissolved, Suzette got up and walked over to me.
“Can we talk for a minute? Alone without your cheerleaders,” she snapped out with way more hostility than I could understand.
“Why must she always be so nasty?” Taylor muttered.
I raised up my hands to quash anything before it started. I didn’t like Suzette, but Taylor absolutely couldn’t stand her. Said she wouldn’t know a genuine act if it was stamped and tattooed on her ass. “Sure.” I got up and walked to Ruby’s office in the back. After she followed me in, I shut the door. “What’s up?”
“I just want you to know that I’m not going to be putting up with your shit this time around.” Her dark eyes snapped with barely restrained acrimony.
“What shit? This time? Huh? I beg your pardon?” My eyebrows jumped up as I had no idea what she was talking about.
“In the sixth grade we were both up for the lead role in Our Town and you stole it from me. Don’t think I don’t know how you really won those pageants. I’m sick of being your understudy because you cheat and lie to get what you want.”
“Sixth grade and pageants, huh? Still hanging onto that. And yet, here you are in a supporting role in a show about me.”
“You like to act like you’re the favorite daughter of Belle Haven and whatever, but I’m not going to let you treat me any old way on this show. I am a grown woman with talents and accomplishments of my own that I can showcase, thank you very much.”
“Suzette, contrary to your beliefs, I had no idea you were coming back to town. I had no idea that this show was going to happen. Feel free to showcase whatever the hell you’d like. I have no intention of treating anyone poorly. If anything, you and I have had misunderstandings in the past, and while I’m sorry for those, I’
m willing to let all that go so we can get through this show with some class.”
“You’re a two-faced attention ho and I just wanted to let you know where I stand.”
So much for class. “Attention ho?” I took a deep breath and let it out. I wasn’t going there with her tonight. “Whatever, Suzette. Why don’t we just stay out of each other’s way as much as possible? As soon as the show’s done we can go back to ignoring each other, how’s that?”
“Suits me just fine. Just because you lost your man and got fat doesn’t mean we’re here to kiss your ass.”
I shook my head in confusion. She wasn’t exactly a featherweight herself, but slinging mud wouldn’t get us out of this room any faster. “I’m certainly not here to tell you what to kiss. You enjoy your dinner.” I swung the door open and headed back to the table.
“I see you still think you get the last word,” she hissed as she walked past.
I sat down at the table and took a generous sip of my drink. “As God is my witness, I promise we’ll try and get through this with some dignity.”
“And thinner thighs. All this bullshit is only worth it if we net thinner thighs out of the deal, right?” Niecy asked as I raised the glass Ruby had just refilled. “To thinner thighs!”
As glasses were raised, I met Jordy’s glance. He tipped his glass in my direction. At the end of the table, Mal raised his water glass and sent me a smile chock full of prurient intent. Uh-oh. I might be in some trouble here. I drank deeply from the glass again and turned my attention back to Taylor and Mac, where all was safe and drama free.
7
Already a pain in the ass
Malachi—Tuesday, May 24—4:14 a.m.
“Good morning, Mr. Knight,” A strange male voice said from the door of my bedroom. Not the best way to wake up.
I opened up one eye and glanced first at the clock: 4:15 a.m.? Seriously? I turned my gaze toward the voice. In the doorway stood a tall skinny twenty something in a “Barack the Vote” T-shirt and jeans. Even more alarming was the burly guy standing next to him dressed all in black and carrying a camera on his shoulder. The red light was on. Next to him stood a kid barely out of high school holding up a huge pole with a fuzzy microphone on the end also pointed in my direction. As I came to partial wakefulness, I recalled that the producer was Ren, the cameraman was Jerry, and the kid with the mic was DeMarcus. Knowing this did not explain what they were doing in my bedroom at the crack of dawn o’clock.
“Are we filming?” I rasped while looking down to make sure I’d actually worn something resembling pajamas to bed. I was in a Houston Stars T-shirt and loose cotton shorts. “You know, for some reason when you said we’d start first thing in the morning? I assumed that meant eight or nine?”
“We want to grab some Day One shots and get each contestant used to having us around,” Ren explained helpfully with a little too much cheer for this early in the morning.
“I see. Well, good morning, world. Hope you’re getting more sleep than I am.” I blinked and smiled into the camera as I sat up in bed. Hey, this face had sold its fair share of sports drinks and gym shoes not so long ago. I could still turn it on when I had to. However, there was one thing I needed to address. “Could a brother tip to the restroom without witnesses, please? The camera needs to know boundaries.”
“Yes, of course. Sorry.” The red light went off. “When you come back, make sure you pack a bag for the next month.”
“Say what now?” I paused on my way to the closet. “Where are we going?”
“Oh, I thought they told you. All of the contestants are moving on campus. To the Havenwood Academy dormitory.”
Pretty sure I’d missed that in the fine print. “Why?”
“It was decided that having everyone in one place is easier for filming and adds to the overall team experience.”
“Uh-huh. Does Rissa know about this?”
“Um, I think she’s being told this morning.”
I snorted. “Good luck with that.” I pulled some underwear, socks, sweats, and Nikes out of the closet before heading to the bathroom. “Why 4:15 in the morning?”
“We wanted to catch everyone while they were still sleeping so the first reactions are all honest.”
“Brilliant,” I agreed with a saccharine smile, closing the door firmly behind me. Reaching in to turn on the shower, I shook my head. What exactly had I gotten myself into? I definitely missed the part of the contract where they could barge into my house before dawn and start filming. The only saving grace was that this was a rental property on loan from Burke and Mac’s company, Bisset Custom Homes. Maybe they’d pick up free publicity from the impromptu early morning footage. I was enjoying the house, it was spacious and well laid out. Pity I was headed for a high school dorm room. Just another sacrifice for the greater good.
And really, that was the whole point of doing this ridiculous reality show: publicity for everybody. Some for me, some for the town, and some (albeit unwanted) for Carissa. I slid under the heated spray and searched for the body wash. I was in the middle of sudsing and rinsing when a knock came at the bathroom door. Before I could answer, the door swung open. I looked incredulously at it.
The skinny producer stuck his head in. “Sorry, dude. Your cell phone is ringing. The display says it’s Carissa. We thought you’d like to take it.”
I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist before I snatched the phone from Ren. I saw Jerry standing behind him with the camera on his shoulder and red light on. Intrusive much? I frowned. “Dude, not on camera.” I swung the door shut with a loud click and answered the phone. “Rissa, is everything okay?”
“Not so much. I assume you also have a camera in your face at this ungodly hour in the damn morning?” She sounded irritated, agitated, and unrested. Her Southern accent was more pronounced this early. Her voice sounded like spiced whiskey. I had to concentrate on what she’d just asked me.
“I just slammed the bathroom door shut on it. Even I have my limits.”
“Did you know about this dormitory situation?”
“I did not.” I dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs. Turning sideways, I checked myself out in the mirror. The last forty pounds were not going easy. I was still a ways from football shape. I shifted the phone to my other hand and popped the top on the lotion. Just because it was early as hell was no excuse to be ashy.
“Mal, if I ask you something, will you answer me honestly?”
The fact that she felt she even had to ask told me how far into disrepair our relationship had truly fallen. “I will.”
“If I back out of this thing, will you be okay? I mean, for your comeback and everything? I don’t want to mess you up, but I’m not so sure I’m feeling this.”
I closed my eyes. I knew she wasn’t comfortable with this. But I didn’t realize she was absolutely hating it. We were only on Day One. If she wanted out, I couldn’t stand in her way. I’d done enough. “Ris, if you want out, walk away. I’ll back you up. It’s not a problem. Really.”
She expelled a deep breath. “What about your tryout?”
I stepped into thin black sweatpants and pulled an LSU T-shirt over my head before I answered. “Babe, they’ll either give me a shot or they won’t. You’ve given up enough for me. If you’re this unhappy before we even get started on Day One, it’s not worth it. I’ll make it work.”
“Thanks, Mal. I’m tempted. So very, very tempted. But too many people are counting on me, counting on this show—the money, the exposure. I can’t back out now. Promise me we are not going to do anything cringe worthy in front of America?”
Might as well speak true. “Not sure I can keep that promise. Even at our best, we could get a little rowdy together.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Look at you being all honest this early in the morning.”
I sat down on the toilet seat to pull on my socks. “Too damn early to sugarcoat.”
She sighed. “This is already a pain in the ass
.”
“A huge pain in the ass.”
“Okay, I’ll quit whining. See you at the dorm.”
For some reason, I wasn’t ready to stop talking to her. “Ris?”
“Yeah?” she answered tentatively.
“Are we friends again?”
She stayed silent a long time. “Sure, Mal. We’re friends.”
“With benefits?” I couldn’t help but add.
She choked on a soft laugh. “Don’t push it.”
I grinned. “Can’t blame a brother for trying.”
“Sure I can.”
I’d gotten this far, so I decided to push a little more. “Do we need to talk about what almost happened yesterday?”
“No, we absolutely do not.”
I laughed. “Denial?”
“Refusal.”
“At least admit we have a few loose ends to tie up.”
“Probably more than a few. You are right about one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s way too early for this.” She hung up abruptly.
I grinned again and slid the phone into my side pocket. I swung the door open to find Ren outside the door and DeMarcus next to him. “Did you seriously just tape a closed-door conversation from outside the bathroom door?”
He nodded unapologetically.
“So not cool. We’re going to have to set some boundaries.”
“You did agree in your contract to be on film 24-7,” Ren reminded me.
“I’m very positive I excluded some things such as”—I gestured to the room behind me as I stepped into the hallway—“bathroom time. Let’s try and maintain some of the mystery, shall we?” I glowered down at him with my best “I’m a football player and will hurt you” glare.
“Sorry, sir.” The glare still worked.
“You don’t have to ‘sir’ me, just show some basic decency or this is not going to go well for any of us. Speaking of which, walking into the bathroom—in fact, any room—without waiting for permission: that’s not going to happen again. Got it?”
“Yes, si—Mr. Knight.”
I rolled my eyes as we walked past the kitchen. “I can be Mal. Truly. I assume breakfast is out of the question?”
Losing to Win Page 6