Losing to Win

by Michele Grant

I sighed. “I’m tired, Dad. I’m going to get a shower, pretend I don’t smell those hot links cooking on the grill, and go sit somewhere without a camera in my face for a few hours.”

  “All right, son. I hear ya talking.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Just think about it, will ya?”

  When I wasn’t thinking about getting back to the NFL, I was thinking about getting back with Carissa. Those two thoughts occupied all my spare time. “You can bet on it.”

  16

  This is a small town and an even smaller show

  Carissa—Saturday, July 2—6:37 p.m.

  “Suzette, what is your general problem?” I voiced my irritation as discreetly as I could. I was standing in the lobby of Sugar’s bed-and-breakfast, The Idlewild. The Idlewild was a former plantation that had been converted into a twenty-two-room inn. Burke and Mac Bisset had done a great job on the restoration and the old house shone through like the Southern treasure it was. Rich dark woods combined with light airy walls; it had the feel of stepping into a stately home that just happened to have all the modern conveniences.

  The Idlewild hosted the contestants who did not live in town, when they weren’t trapped on campus—with the exception of Mal, who chose to rent a place from Burke. A lot of the crew was staying at the Idlewild as well. A few of Mal’s friends from his NFL days had checked in to help him train for a few weeks, so the place was busier than I’d ever seen it. This afternoon, I had popped over to drop off my updated paperwork and ran into Suzette on my way out.

  I supposed an explosion between the two of us was just a long time overdue and inevitable. She didn’t like me, I didn’t like her. We’d never clicked. Not from the first time we’d laid eyes on each other in middle school. I thought she was mean, shallow, and petty. She thought I was standoffish, snobby, and siddity. To my credit, I had tried several times to extend the olive branch and let the animosity go. Unfortunately, every time I tried to bury the hatchet, she attempted to bury it in my back. After a particularly nasty hair-pulling incident on the playground, I gave up.

  To say that our mutual disdain was long lived and abiding was an understatement. Today, only one of us was trying to be classy about it. The minute she saw me, she launched into a litany of insults. The least hurtful involved her calling me fat for the fiftieth time this summer; the most offensive was her accusing me of sleeping with all the male members of the cast so I would be the most popular contestant on the show.

  I was sick of it. My timing may have been poor, but I was calling her out once and for all.

  “You are my general problem,” she hissed, not bothering to lower the volume of her screechy voice.

  “You’ve always thought you were better than anyone else around here,” she continued. “You walk around with your nose in the air like your shit doesn’t stink, when in reality you’re just a washed-up prom queen with no man, no kids, and no real accomplishments. You act like you’re so far above it all when you are no better than a trashy bitch. Your mama is blue collar and your daddy is a known womanizer who’ll lay down with anyone who smiles at him twice and buys him a beer. I guess you take after him. You’ve slept your way into anything you’ve ever gotten. I don’t think Queen Slut is a career aspiration for young girls. How they allow you to teach kids is beyond me!”

  “Now wait just a damn minute,” I lashed out, angry to the point where I had no more damns left to give. The fact that I could hear feet scurrying and knew that signaled rolling cameras were somewhere close by should have stilled my tongue, but it didn’t. The words tripped from my mouth with force and ferocity. “Maybe I’ll let you call me whatever you can dream up as acid drips from your lips. Maybe you can talk about my father. But best believe you will not besmirch the good name of my mama. I’m not about to stand here and let the chick who gave blowjobs to the principal just to get a seat on the student council call me all sorts of tramps and sluts. No, ma’am. I am not going to let a chick who ballooned up from a size 3 to a tight size 30 call ME fat again. Not today.”

  She sniffled and let two fake tears run down her cheeks. “I have four kids!”

  “Well, bless their hearts. Girl, please! What you have is a ready-made excuse for everything you’ve ever jacked up, and that list is plentiful. I don’t think that I’m better than everybody else, but I’m a damn sight better than you.”

  “You always wanted what I have!” she accused in a shrill tone.

  I shrieked with laughter. “What exactly would that be? I have never wanted anything you had. Not. One. Damn. Thing. I started the rumor saying I thought Jerome Allendale was hot so that you’d go after him and quit jock-riding Mal for half a second.”

  “You did not. You totally wanted Jerome and you hate that I have him.”

  “Yes, all those years I was cozied up to Mal’s fine self, I found myself longing for Jerome. You think? And really, Suzette—if I had wanted Jerome, don’t you think I would’ve found a way to have him? I mean, let’s take it there. I’m just saying.”

  “You bitch!” She swung her hand back and I put a finger up.

  “Uh-uh. If you hit me, it better be the hit of your life, because not only will I snatch out what’s left of your listless hair, I will knock you the hell out up in here. Then I will proceed to have you arrested for assault, I will sue you for damages, and I will take every last dime of Jerome’s money that you have not already spent.” I looked her squarely in the eye. “Whatcha gonna do, Boo-Boo?”

  She wavered for a minute as if considering her options. I shifted my purse to my left arm in case I needed to actually swing on this woman. I was done taking the high road. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed I wasn’t backing down. “This isn’t over!” she screamed and backed away.

  “Uh-huh.” I sucked my teeth and nodded. “Just as I thought. All talk and hot air. Let’s just be real. We don’t like each other. We never have. At this point, we never will. This is a small town and an even smaller show. But why don’t we agree to stay the hell out of each other’s way and leave it at that?”

  She stepped around me with her head held high and muttered “Bitch” as she walked past.

  I took two quick steps backward and blocked her path. “That’s your last freebie. You call me anything else besides my name and we can go there if we have to, okay, Suzette?”

  “Nobody is scared of you, Carissa Wayne!” She flung her hair with extra drama and stormed out the door.

  Sugar came running over clutching a broom in her hand. “I don’t know, cuz. I’m a little scared of you.”

  “Girl, what were you about to do? Sweep her up outta here?”

  “I had your back!”

  “Yeah, if some lint balls flew out her mouth, you were right there for me.”

  We dissolved into laughter. Noticing all eyes were still trained on me, I twirled in a circle in the lobby before taking a bow. “Show’s over, folks. Nothing to see here!” I received scattered applause.

  “This is why they love you on that show. You’re a damn drama magnet,” my Aunt Elaine said as she came around from the registration desk. She took the broom out of Sugar’s hand and walked back toward the kitchen muttering to herself about these kids today.

  “You know what you need?” Sugar asked me. We strolled toward the door.

  “A gallon of rum and a paid vacation to Jamaica?”

  “I was going to say a hot bath and a hot man to relieve you of your stress.”

  “I can make that bath thing happen,” I admitted with a smile.

  “You could make the man thing happen. With a phone call.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “What’s holding you back?” Sugar looked at me curiously.

  “Didn’t you just call me a drama magnet? Add a man into the equation and it’s like drama squared.” And all evidence to the contrary, I really did not like drama.

  “But the man could be worth it, right?”

  “Worth it in the interim, yes. In the long run? Not
so sure about that one.”

  “Two of Mal’s friends checked in, did you hear?” Sugar asked.

  “Yeah, I heard. Which two?”

  “Corey something and Lee McAdoo.”

  I nodded. “I know both of them.”

  She leaned forward. “Give me the 411. What’s the scoop?”

  “You do know no one says 411 anymore, right?”

  “Girl, dish already!”

  “Corey is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Comes across all sensitive but is a heartbreaker. The Western United States is scattered with the ashes of his former flames.”

  “Oh, a churn-and-burn type?”

  “Most definitely,” I affirmed.

  “What about Lee?”

  “Oh, he’s both a looker and a sweetheart, if I recall. He and his wife split up after he retired. He rejoined the league and I don’t know if he’s got someone right now or not.” I noticed the twinkle in her eyes. “If you’re interested, that’s not a bad direction to go. Is he still fine?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” she said in a dreamy voice.

  “Oh, I’d believe. You should go for it,” I encouraged her. She could do a lot worse. Lee was one of the good guys.

  “You know what?” Sugar said while a huge grin spread across her face. “I believe I will. See how much good this show is bringing to Belle Haven?”

  “Bringing you a man is good?”

  “Always, but business is good, things are good all the way around, Ris. Thanks to you.”

  I held myself back from rolling my eyes. “That’s me: the savior of Belle Haven.” I pushed open the door and looked up and down the street to make sure Suzette was nowhere to be found. I dug out my keys and unlocked the car.

  “All right, Ris. Try not to fight nobody on the way home.”

  “No guarantees!” I called out and backed away.

  17

  This is who we are, this is what we do

  Malachi—Sunday, July 3—10:02 p.m.

  “Next week on Losing to Win...” the announcer’s voice blared from the television on the far wall of Carissa’s living room. I was lounging on the chaise section of Carissa’s couch dressed in cargo shorts, T-shirt, and flip-flops. Even though I was sore from yesterday’s workout, I was enjoying the time off. Tomorrow was the Fourth of July and the day after that, we had to be back on set. The immediate cast, some family, and friends were gathered here to watch the premiere.

  It was far more entertaining than I had expected. Everyone had personalities that worked well on camera and kept the pace of the show engaging. Watching our lives unfold in sequences was surreal. The cameras managed to pick up a lot of interactions that we weren’t aware of. Suzette spent a lot of time on the phone to her husband complaining about everyone and everything, particularly Carissa. Suzette clearly hadn’t expected some of her words to be aired. Soon after the first scene revealed her spewing dirt about her cast mates, she got up and slipped out of the house.

  XJ apparently spent a lot of time finding new and innovative ways to sneak off to restaurants around town. The problem was, the cameras caught him every time. Many townspeople had been interviewed and shared their stories or tidbits about us on camera. Carissa was considered a bit of a town hero for coming back to Belle Haven and contributing. People were very polarized about me. They either thought I was a great guy or a total asshole. One thing they all agreed on was that they wanted to see me do right by the town and by Carissa, whatever that meant.

  The first episode had wrapped with me and Carissa standing in our mud-soaked clothes accepting the blind challenge. So I knew exactly what the teaser for the next episode would be. Carissa was seated across the room wearing one of those maxidress things in a shade of orange that looked great on her. As if feeling my gaze on her, she turned her head to look at me. We shared a look of resigned what-the-hell-ness and looked back toward the TV.

  I watched as the onscreen Carissa stood up and stepped into Jordan’s arms. I hated seeing it again now as much as I had the first time. I kept watching as the onscreen me stood up with clenched fists and stepped forward. Everyone watching held their breath as they cut away for another teaser.

  With the exception of those of us who had been there, the room broke into conversation as soon as the commercial went off.

  Sugar’s voice rang out. “Whoa, cuz—love triangle?”

  “Shut it, Sugar. No triangle. I’m an island.”

  Ruby laughed. “Didn’t someone say no man—or woman—is an island?”

  More laughter diffused the last of the tension as people started getting up to leave. I leaned back and stayed put. Jordan looked over at me from his position near the door. I crossed my arms across my chest and rested one ankle across my knee. I speared him with a “whatcha gonna do, player?” look and he gave me an “oh, it’s about to be on” head nod.

  He walked over to Carissa and leaned down to whisper in her ear. She sent him a sweet smile that caused my stomach to clench, but then she shook her head no. She beckoned him closer and whispered something in his ear. I narrowed my eyes. He nodded, trailed his hand down her arm, and walked out. I had been noticing that Jordan Little always found a way to put his hands on Carissa Wayne. As he passed the doorway, he sent me a quick look I interpreted as “Yeah, I’m leaving, but I’ll be back.”

  Maybe he would, but not tonight. I stood up, stretched, and chatted Renard, Mac, and XJ along to the front door. I made small talk with Ruby and Sugar as they sashayed out. Picking up a few empty paper plates and plastic cups, I wandered toward the kitchen, where I stopped short in amazed disbelief.

  Mashed up against the pantry were Niecy and my brother, Meshach. Breathing all heavy, kissing like their lives depended on it—when had this started? My brother’s hands were not in a PG-13 position. “Damn, girl,” he whispered into her neck as she arched her hips closer to him. Okay, I’d seen more than enough.

  “Am I interrupting?” I asked, knowing full well that I was as I tossed the trash into a container on the side of the counter.

  They sprang apart guiltily and gasped for air. Meshach pointed at me. “Bro, your timing!”

  I sat down on the barstool. “My bad. How about y’all take that somewhere more private?”

  Niecy shook her head. “Woo, you Knight brothers. Let me escape before I get into trouble.”

  Meshach grumbled. “I was trying to get into some trouble.”

  “You were getting into something,” I laughed as Niecy backed out of the room, running into Carissa on her way out.

  “What’s up?” Carissa asked, looking at Niecy’s hasty retreat toward the closest exit from the house.

  “I’ll call you in the morning!” Niecy said, practically sprinting out the front door.

  Cari looked from me to Meshach and back again. “What did you do?”

  I held my hands up. “For once it wasn’t me! This one”—I directed my thumb toward Meshach—“had his paws all over your line sister. Lips too.”

  “Is that right?” Carissa grinned widely, sliding onto the barstool next to mine and resting her chin on her hands. “Do tell.”

  Meshach shrugged. “I like her. I’m going to get to know her better.”

  I snorted. “That was you initiating a conversation just now?”

  He grabbed his keys off the counter and came around the bar to give Cari a kiss on the cheek. “I’m out. Lookie here, bro, don’t be projecting your sexual frustrations in my direction. See y’all tomorrow.”

  He strolled out the front door, completely missing the finger I flashed at him. As the door closed behind him, Cari swiveled toward me on the barstool with an animated expression.

  “Mal?” Her voice was silky.

  I looked over at her to see a wicked grin on her face. “Rissa?”

  “Are you sexually frustrated?” she said in a teasing, singsongy voice.

  A slow smile crept across my face. That sounded like an invitation to me. If she wanted to play, I was more than ready. Standing
up swiftly, I yanked her out of the chair and started backing her toward the staircase. “Not for long, babe. Not for much longer at all.”

  She opened her mouth to either agree or protest and I took the opportunity to cover those pretty lips with my own. Testing delicately, I gave her a second to push me away. She didn’t. I wrapped both arms around her and pulled her in tight. With a sexy moan, Carissa slid her arms around my neck and gave as good as she got.

  This kiss was possessive, aggressive, and filled with a thousand words we needed to convey. Slick, hot, enticing, and addictive, our tongues spoke to each other in languages never forgotten. Carissa smelled of vanilla and gardenias; she tasted like sweet wine and heaven. I pressed her against the wall next to the staircase and ran my hands along her back, her arms, her thighs, everywhere I could reach quickly. Our hands flew across each other’s bodies, reacquainting ourselves with new curves, new angles, new textures, but the same feelings remained. Heat, passion, and eagerness for more were always in the forefront when I got next to Carissa.

  I was too impatient to say and do all the things I needed to do right now. If I wanted to do this the right way, I would say sweet things and ease into each phase with light, teasing touches and soothing caresses. But everything inside of me was screaming, “Now! Now! Now!” I just wanted her to be mine in every way possible. With the last ounce of willpower inside of me, I pulled back slightly. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered with her hands on my chest. I couldn’t tell if she was pulling me closer or pushing me away. Her lips were swollen, her lids were heavy, her breathing as erratic as mine. The two of us together like this felt like an inevitability.

  The thought that she didn’t feel the same frantic need that was racing through my veins drove me crazy. I put my hands on her hips and tilted her pelvis in alignment with mine, dragging her close. I was hard as iron, pressed against her velvet softness. I wanted her to feel the urgency of my want, the desperation of my need. “You don’t know?” I whispered into her neck as I licked a path from her bare shoulder to just behind her ear, where she was particularly sensitive. She shuddered in my arms and I nipped the spot lightly with my teeth.