by Amy Vansant
“Are you telling me you finished your last shot and then ran upstairs to take a pregnancy test?”
“No, I mean, I’ve been in denial.”
Sebastian dropped his head into his palm. “Look, I don’t mean to seem cruel, but let’s be honest—you have a history of manufactured drama. And consider this from my point of view—if for one second I believed you, I’d be furious you’re drinking shots while pregnant with my child, so there’s really no scenario here where I’m not pissed.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “I lost the baby.”
“What? When? Just now?”
She sobbed and covered her face with both hands.
“Yes. Earlier. Before the drinking.”
“So the girl I saw giggling and taunting and drinking shots had just lost a baby.”
“I was compensating for my sadness. The baby was the best part of us. You and me. You have to understand that—”
She moved toward him and he put up both hands to ward her off, his jaw clenched.
“Greta, you’re drunk and lying. You’re...you’re horrible. What a horrible thing to pretend.”
She gasped. “I’m not horrible.”
“You just pretended to be pregnant and then lose the baby in the span of a minute. You don’t think that’s horrible?”
Her expression twisted and he saw real tears begin to rim her eyes. Her plan foiled, now she felt genuinely sorry for herself. “It’s not horrible because I love you. I did it because I love you. Please Sebby—”
She moved to embrace him again and he jumped back, his hand outstretched to ward her away.
“Leave me alone.”
He turned and strode down the short entrance hall to open the door. He couldn’t walk fast enough.
Her voice wailed behind him as he strode down the hall.
“I love you...”
Chapter Eighteen
Greta fell to her knees. “I love you. Please don’t go, Sebby, no—”
She collapsed forward and sobbed for a few seconds. She glanced up.
Sebastian was gone.
She sat back on her heels.
“Crap.”
Standing, she wiped the tears from her eyes, and glanced toward the bathroom.
“Did you get that?”
The cameraman opened the door. “Yeah. I got it.”
“Think you can work with it?”
He nodded and lowered the camera.
“Yeah, definitely. I mean...it’s a pretty heavy scene. I’ll cut out the parts that don’t work.”
Wearing her sheer nightie, she clambered to her feet and the cameraman looked away. She smirked. “Don’t be shy. I’m sure you see girls in all sorts of states of dress doing what you do.”
He nodded without looking up. “I gotta go.”
“Ok.”
She watched him leave.
“Excuse me.” She heard the voice and turned to see Joe passing the cameraman on his way in. Joe squinted at her and then looked back at the door.
“Where you wearing that with him in here?”
“I had on a robe. I just took it off.”
Joe looked around the room. “What were you doing? Why did they tell me I couldn’t come back to the room? Why was he here?”
“What do you care? Don’t worry about it.”
“Why are your eyes red? Were you crying?”
“No.”
She walked into the bathroom.
She could barely contain her grin.
Chapter Nineteen
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Emily opened her eyes to find Sebastian staring down at her.
“Hey.” She looked around. Hotel. Right. I should be used to this by now.
“How are you this morning?” Sebastian’s fingers crawled towards here like a little creature and when he’d nearly reached her, he held up his index and middle fingers like antennae.
“What is that?” she asked.
“It’s Listening Spider.”
“The fingers standing up show he’s very alert?”
“Yup.”
She laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
The spider flipped her off.
“Hey, that wasn’t nice.”
“That was Angry Spider. I can’t do anything about him. He’s in therapy.”
“Gotcha.”
He kept his fingers on the bed and pushed his palm back and forth.
“I’m afraid to ask what that is.”
“It’s Humpy Spider.”
Though she didn’t feel the best, she couldn’t stop laughing.
He raised his eyebrows. “So do you remember anything from last night?”
“I remember everything.”
“Prove it.”
She sat up and felt her heartbeat pounding in her head. “We came back here and I went to bed.”
Sebastian laughed. “That’s the short version. Want to hear the long version?”
“Probably not.”
“Do you remember waking up in the middle of the night?”
“Yes. No. Sorta...”
“It was about four. You stood up and stared at nothing. When asked what you were doing, you struck a pose, leaned against the wall on one arm, and declared I am going to the bathroom as if you were announcing your candidacy for president.”
“I did not. You’re lying.”
“Oh it gets better. You made it half-way to the bathroom before putting your hand on your hip, spinning to face the room again and saying, I would like some water like some old-time movie diva.”
“A thirsty movie diva.”
“Exactly.”
She laughed, feeling the blood rise in her cheeks. “This can’t be possible. You’re kidding me now.”
“You think? I can tell you that after you went into the bathroom I could hear you laughing about something. Then you opened the door a sliver and stared at me. All I could see was your little eye peeping through the crack.”
“You’re insane.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I’m insane? Do you remember me pulling the glob of toothpaste out of your hair when you came out?”
“Toothpaste?” Emily scowled. Something about his comment did sound familiar. She had the faint recollection of using her toothbrush for a music conductor’s baton and getting it tangled in her hair.
She groaned. “Maybe a drinking contest with Greta was a bad idea.”
“Maybe. She sells booze for a living. Girl can drink.”
“Is that why her boobs are so big? She uses them to store alcohol?”
Sebastian huffed a laugh that sounded strangely wistful.
“What’s wrong?”
He sat on the bed beside her. “Nothing.”
Emily couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been about to share something. She was about to probe again when, without warning, he flopped across her stomach and rolled back and forth like a rolling pin, her belly serving as the pie crust.
She squealed. “What are you doing?”
“It’s a tidal wave of love. You’re being crushed by it.”
Laughing, she slapped his shoulder. “Get off me you goof.”
“Pssh! Pssh!” he made wave noises and rolled more violently.
“Come on. It hurts to laugh this hard. Have pity on me. Have pity on my poor head.”
He swung his leg over her and pushed himself up until his face hovered above hers. “You don’t want to drown in the tidal wave of love?”
“No. Not right this second while I’m dealing with the tidal wave of hangover.”
He pointed to his eyes. “Perhaps you’d rather drown in these limpid pools of blue.”
She closed her eyes, her chest bouncing up and down with silent laughter. “You are a moron.”
He grinned and stood, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “Yeah, well I’m not the one who drank six shots last night.”
“Five.”
“I’m thinking that last one was a double.”
She groa
ned. “She cheated, you know.”
He pet her head. “I know. Shocker, huh? Come on. We’re going to be late again.”
After getting dressed, they headed to the hotel restaurant to grab breakfast. Kady and Marc sat with the Baltimore brother-sister chef team. Emily and Sebastian joined.
Kady smiled as they approached. “You look like you had a rough night.”
Emily shook her head. “The night was awesome. It’s the morning that’s killing me.”
Kady chuckled and motioned to her tablemates. “Have you met Jasmin and Andre?”
Emily waved at the pair as she sat. “Just the quick hi during the meet and greet. How did you two like your evening in the woods? Fun, huh?”
Jasmin rolled her eyes. “If I never see another tree it will be too soon.”
“You said it.” Andre nodded.
Jasmin put her hand on Emily’s. “You were hilarious last night taking on that girl at the bar. She’s somethin’ else. What’s she got against you?”
“We have a long history. She used to date him.” She hooked a thumb toward Sebastian.
Jasmin laughed and pointed at her brother. “I told you...I told you that girl was after him.”
Andre nodded. “She did. She saw it right away. She was singing a song about it last night.”
“A song?” echoed Emily.
Jasmin cleared her throat.
“Here we gotta girl named Gret-tah
Got a face like an English Set-tah
But Emily done did her one bet-tah
And Sebastian he refused to pet heh”
While the others laughed, Andre shook his head conveying that his sister’s penchant for rhyme was nothing new to him.
“I wouldn’t be doing any of this if we didn’t need the money for our food truck.”
“You have a food truck in Baltimore?” asked Emily.
The brother and sister shook their heads in unison. “Not yet, but we will if we win this show.”
The waiter appeared and Emily asked if she could order a Bloody Mary, reasoning a little hair of the dog might help her function.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” said the waiter, offering her an arsenal of nods, winks and leers as if to say he thought her breakfast drink of choice was cheeky, but that he was the kind of guy who appreciated scandalous behavior.
“You need someone to drink that with you?” he asked.
Emily squinted at him. “Uh, no.”
The waiter nodded toward Sebastian. “Oh, you her boyfriend? Got your hands full with this one, huh?” He held up a hand for Sebastian to high five.
Sebastian stared at the man, leaving him hanging.
The waiter chuckled and lowered his palm. “Alriiight.”
Emily put her head in her hands. The last thing she needed was the creepiest waiter in the world acting like an idiot in her ear. “Just the Bloody Mary please.”
The waiter winked, creating a finger-gun to point at her. “You got it, babe.”
“What the hell is wrong with that guy?” asked Jasmin as soon as the waiter wheeled from the table.
Andre watched the waiter leave, frowning. “He didn’t ask the rest of us if we wanted anything either.”
The waiter returned with the Bloody Mary and Jasmin ordered a mimosa. Her tone conveyed her annoyance over his first visit.
“Whoa, sure can. You go girl. That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”
Suddenly, the waiter sounded as if he were hosting Showtime at the Apollo.
Andre’s head snapped from where he’d been reading his phone. “What did you say?”
Jasmin winced and put a hand on her brother’s. “Hold on.”
Andre glowered. “This guy is out of line.”
Jasmin shook her head and pointed to her chest while motioning with her eyes. Her eye movements implied she was actually pointing not at herself, but behind her. Her voice dropped low. “Look.”
The others followed her direction to a camera operator eating breakfast nearby. Her camera sat on the table beside her, pointed in their direction. The red light glowed. Emily looked to her right and spotted another clandestine lens trained in their direction and realized what was happening.
The horrific waiter was part of the show.
Emily looked at him. “You’re an actor?”
She’d barely finished her question when his shoulders dropped, as if a weight had been lifted. He glanced left and right before leaning in. “Yes. I’m so glad you figured it out. This was making me really uncomfortable.”
“Take your show on the road. You’re busted here,” said Sebastian.
The waiter nodded, offering a string of mumbled apologies before moving to another table of contestants to start afresh. Another, real waiter soon arrived to take their orders.
When she’d left, Emily looked to Jasmin. “I’m so glad you noticed the cameras. You think they were hoping to film us fighting with the waiter?”
“Makes good TV I guess,” said Jasmin.
“Makes a good way for that waiter to get his ass wupped,” muttered Andre.
Nicole approached their table and tapped Sebastian on the arm. “Need you to do the weather.”
“Again?”
“You’re a hit, what can I say?”
Sebastian stood. “Sorry, gotta go. My adoring fans await.”
Emily said her goodbyes to Andre and Jasmin and followed Sebastian to watch his latest performance, Bloody Mary in tow. At least her fake waiter had brought a real drink. It would be her last for a long time, that she promised herself.
Sebastian took his position in front of the cameras on the porch of the hotel and Nicole handed him a sheet of paper. “Here’s the weather.”
Sebastian read over it and handed it back to her before nodding to the cameraman.
“Okay. Hit it.”
The cameraman signaled he was live. Sebastian’s eyes twitched a little wider and he grinned, his dimple popping.
“Hey Maryland, Sebastian from Minefield here. Chance of rain tonight, mostly sunny, seventy-five. Right now I have to check the weather down south, I’ll see you next time.”
Sebastian turned sideways to the camera and slowly bent his knees as he bounced forward. Emily realized that to the camera, it would appear as though he was walking down stairs. The cameraman realized Sebastian’s plan and held steady as he grew lower and fell out of frame.
Nicole laughed. “Cut! That was hilarious. They’re going to love it.”
Sebastian nodded and headed back toward the restaurant. He held the door open for Emily.
“You’re getting really good at this,” she said.
He smiled, his face coloring. “Honestly, I’m starting to think it’s the only reason I’m staying in this stupid competition.”
“That and helping out Nicole and your brother.”
He grunted. “Yeah. And that.”
Chapter Twenty
After breakfast, a Channel Six bus carried the contestants on a twenty-minute drive ending with a bumpy trek on a long dirt road leading to what looked—and smelled—like a farm.
As they approached a large red barn, one of the staff assistants handed backpacks to each of the teams.
Sebastian watched as Emily rooted through the bag.
“Look for bug spray,” he suggested.
She glanced up. “Oh no. You don’t think they’d throw us into the woods again, do you? It’s called Minefield. Not Tree and Field.”
He grimaced. “These chigger bites are still killing me.”
Emily pulled a pair of flimsy, red plastic vests from the bag, followed by a nest of what looked like colorful nylon snakes with hooks at each end.
“The bag is full of these,” she said, holding them aloft.
Sebastian gasped as if she’d jerked packs of hundred-dollar bills from the bag.
“I love bungee cords.” He whispered with awe-struck wonder.
She snorted a laugh. “How does one love bungee cords?”
“They’re cool. Springy. They come in handy.”
“Right. Well, good, I guess, because we have a mess of them in here.”
“Are those goats?” asked Kady from the seat behind them.
Emily leaned forward to peer past Sebastian. Outside, in a field not far from the bus, stood a fenced pen filled with goats, their middles wrapped in colored cloth. They seemed to be tagged—blue, green, red, yellow, orange and purple.
Sebastian’s lips twisted into a knot. “Goats. I don’t know about goats.”
Emily realized the problem was less about the animals and more about their little sweaters. “They’re tagged with colors, which doesn’t bode well for you, Mr. Colorblind.”
“Great. Maybe we’ll lose and get kicked off this stupid show.”
“Don’t you quit on me. You have your adoring weather-curious public to think of.”
He huffed.
The door of the bus opened as contestants and staff filed out and gathered by the goat pen. Nicole took her usual spot in front of the group as the omnipresent speakers crackled to life.
Nicole raised her hands to the sky.
“Welcome to the Get Your Goat challenge!”
The sound of a goat bleating echoed.
“So dramatic,” muttered Sebastian.
Emily chuckled. “But goat noises are so much better than explosions.”
“I hope Garrett is taping all this so we can show Nicole what a goofball she is.”
Nicole continued. “On the other side of the field are six pens. Corral the goats matching your vest color into one of those pens and you’ve completed the challenge. Last pair to corral their goats will be eliminated!”
Another recorded goat bleat blared.
“Contestants—put on your vests!”
Two men dressed in jeans and western-style boots threw open the goat pen gates and proceeded to shoo and scatter the goats into the field.
“Are they goat wranglers? Is that a thing?” asked Sebastian.
Emily pushed through a nest of bungee cords to find their vests at the bottom of their pack. “Here’s your goat wrangling gear.”
Sebastian took the vest from her. “What color are we?”
“Red.”