The following week brought even more familiarity with Trevor. After an elimination round that sent home another shooter (not me or Max), I went to my bedroom and found a television sitting on my dresser. My make-up bag was on the floor along with my perfumes.
"What?" I asked in annoyance.
I knew that it had to be Trevor's doing, but I had no idea why. We as contestants were barred from watching TV during the duration of the competition. What was this thing doing in my room? I found out later that night when Trevor walked into the bedroom with a six pack of beer and some chips. I smiled at him.
"A TV, chips and beer? In my room? You are really out to corrupt me, aren't you Mr. Garrett?"
He laughed at that. A few minutes later, he was seated on my bed with an open bag of chips and an open bottle of beer in his hands with the TV turned on to some talent show.
"Sorry, Lore." He had recently started calling me Lore instead of Lauren. It endeared me. "I never miss this show."
It was only nine p.m. in the evening. The past few days had seen a lot of the contestants leave; the only ones that were left were in one room at the other end of the hallway. Trevor felt a bit freer in coming and going as he pleased.
"I'll just help myself to a beer," I sarcastically said to him.
He completely ignored me as he watched the TV. I tried to sit down to watch the show with him for a while, but grew bored after a handful of minutes. Sighing, I got up and went to shower. When I came out wearing scarcely anything, he barely noticed. At first I was mad, but then I wasn't. It felt like something a live-in couple would be arguing about. I half smiled before grabbing my book and sitting on the bed next to him. A few minutes later, the TV went off. Trevor smiled as he pulled the book out of my hands and set it down on my nightstand with the book still folded open.
"Don't think I missed your sexy display, you."
I laughed. "Really? I didn't think you noticed."
"I did. Now. Let's see to that itty-bitty nightgown you have on."
His breath smelled of beer, but I didn't mind. He made short work of our clothing.
Chapter 17
Our magical existence began to crack only a couple of days later. We'd been walking on the trail away from the mansion when he got a phone call on his cell. He dropped my hand when he saw who was on the Caller ID.
"I've got to take this, Lore."
"Okay,"
He then began to talk on the phone. He laughed out loud as soon as he greeted the man by name. They then went on to talk about some TV show. Trevor quickly piped in, stating statistics on the show in an excited voice. They then started talking about market shares, age brackets and other things I didn't quite follow. He then looked at me and raised his index finger at me.
"No, John. I've got all the time in the world to talk. Shoot."
Trevor then laughed at something else 'John' had to say. He began to slowly take a few steps away from me before he spoke again.
"You would think that, John. But the truth is that I can handle hosting two shows. I am elated that you are considering me for hosting American Hardware."
My stomach dropped at those words. Trevor was considering working two jobs? What would that leave him time for? Almost as if psychic, he turned to face me and lifted his index finger again requesting that I wait again. Would I wait? Should I wait? When his back was turned, I turned around and walked down the trail and back to the mansion.
I loved Trevor. He didn't love me back. He loved his work. How could I lose sight of that? Tears ran out of my eyes as I faced that fact. Still, part of me hung on to the possibility that he might love me - he just didn't know it yet. Drying my tears, I went straight to the kitchen to hang out with the three remaining contestants besides myself; I really didn't want to face Trevor just yet.
"Hey you," said Max with a smile.
His warm welcome was a relief to my sorrowful heart.
"Hey yourself."
I went to the coffee maker and made myself a cup.
"How was your nature walk?" asked Sam.
Not knowing if he was alluding to Trevor and I or to my walk outside, I opted to answer the nature walk version of the question.
"Good. I can't believe we have less than a week left here."
"What's home like?" asked Jeff, the third remaining contestant.
I smiled, remembering that he was from Chicago.
"I live on a ranch..."
I told them about my day-to-day life out there. They shared the same information on their parts. I hung out with them as long as I could. I watched as Trevor stared at me from the fringes of the room. I knew that he was ready for us to go upstairs. I wasn't ready, though.
I was finally ready at around midnight. I heard the bedroom door open from the shower. It had been less than ten minutes since I came upstairs. I heard as he tried to open the bathroom door but found it locked.
"Lore. What is going on?" he said in an annoyed voice from the other side of the door.
I sighed, knowing that I couldn't hide from him forever.
"I'll be out in a few minutes," I replied.
I took my time in the shower, though. I took my time blow-drying my hair. I took my time getting dressed. Finally, I left the bathroom.
Trevor was sitting on the bed with his elbows resting on his knees.
"What is up with you?" he asked in a slow, deliberate tone of voice.
I didn't know what to say. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to admit that I knew that he was making plans for the future without me? I didn't want to face that. So instead, I walked over and sat down next to him. I put my face in his neck and took in his scent as I pulled him close.
"What's wrong, Laura?" he asked me in a more concerned voice.
"I don't want to talk about it. Please don't make me talk about it. Not yet," I begged.
He sighed and pulled me close.
"Okay. Whatever you want," he said in a more sober voice.
We made love that night, and it was so tender and sweet. Trevor kept telling me time and time and time again how beautiful I was. I said nothing back, but bit my lip.
The next day, Max and I sent Sam and Jeff to elimination. The day after that, Jeff packed his bags and went home. The producers and Trevor made a big fuss about the fact that we were the final three. We had a huge dinner and filmed a bunch of interviews. Sam and Max were thrilled. I was less than thrilled. I think that Trevor caught onto my grief. He talked to me about it late that night.
"What is wrong, Lore?"
He was sitting on my bed while I looked at my reflection in the mirror set atop my dresser. It was time to lay it all on the table, I knew. I leaned back on the dresser and faced him. Tears flooded my eyes.
"I am in love with you, Trevor Garrett. I am crazy about you."
I watched as his face fell and looked pained. He sighed and then covered his face with his hands.
"I think that you like me more than you care to admit, Trevor. I think that you might feel the same about me."
Still, he said nothing. I went on.
"I want this relationship to continue. I don't want it to end when the competition ends. I want to be your significant other."
Tears ran down my face as I spoke. I then got off the dresser and knelt in front of him.
"Please. Talk to me."
His eyes looked so pained when he removed his hands.
"Lore. It won't work. It can't work."
"Why not? We can make it work. I know we can."
He sighed and shook his head.
"No. We can't. I told you this from the beginning," he said in a not unkind tone.
"Yes, you said that. But I didn't know how I would feel at the end of this competition. I don't think you did either."
He looked down at the floor while I spoke. I kept talking.
"I know that you feel something for me. Do you know that you pull me close when we sleep at night? Do you know that even in your sleep you kiss the back of my neck? I have felt
you pull the covers over me at night and tuck me in. That means something."
He then looked at me.
"Of course I care for you, Lauren. How could I not?"
I sniffed some tears and kept talking.
"This thing we have here...it's something. It's something small now but we could build it into something so big," I said.
He reached and grabbed my hands and held them as he spoke.
"I don't doubt that, Lauren. But it won't work. Not right now. I live in L.A. You live in Texas."
"We'd try it for a time. If things get better for us, maybe one of us can move," I pleaded.
He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.
"No, Lauren. I can't go to Texas. My work is in California."
"I'd be willing to go to California."
He scratched his forehead at that.
"What would you do, Lauren? There aren't any ranches in L.A. Where would you work?"
I hadn't actually considered that. I refused to admit that. I guess that I had hoped that he would agree to do the long distance thing for a while before we got more serious.
"As much as I love spending time with you, you can't live with me. It would be way too premature for that. And even if you did, what else could you do? Sell paintings on the corner?"
I don't know why I was offended, but I was. I took my hands out of his and sat down on the floor. He followed me to the floor and knelt before me.
"Don't think I haven't considered it. I have. But it is just not the time. Maybe in three to five years I'll be ready to be serious about a relationship. I would love for that to be with you, but I cannot ask you to wait that long for me. I won't ask you to wait that long for me."
His logical, kind words killed me. I bit my lip as tears ran down my face with renewed vigor. I had to give it one more shot.
"Don't you want me now?"
I watched as his eyes watered. He swallowed something in his throat as he stared at the spare bed behind me. He then looked at me and blinked his eyes as he slowly shook his head.
"Not in the way you want me to want you. I'm sorry, Lauren."
I sobbed out loud at that. That was it. That was all the fight I had in me. I tucked my head over my knees and cried. My long hair and knees shielded my face from his view. I heard his voice thicken as he reached out and put his hand on my knee.
"Lore, I'm sorry. We can be friends."
That made me cry harder. I looked up at his face and let him see me with my heart cracked wide open.
"We were friendly, but we were never friends. We were meant to be lovers. But you don't want that anymore."
I watched him as he swallowed and stared at the ceiling.
"I am so sorry that I've hurt you, Lauren."
I sniffed.
"I'm not sorry about what we were. But you have to go now, Trevor."
He stared at me in shock.
"No, Lauren. I don't want to leave you like this. Don't make me leave you like this."
"What else is there to say? Please go," I said on a sob.
"Please?" I heard him ask in a thick voice.
Now he was the one asking for something. Maybe it was petty, but I would not give it to him. That and I needed him to leave; I needed him to let me hurt by myself.
I put my head back on my knees when I spoke again.
"Please. Leave me be, Trevor Garrett. Go."
I kept sobbing on the floor. I don't know how long it took for him to stand up, but finally he did. I heard him walk towards the door before he stopped.
"I'm not going to let us end on a low note like this, Lauren. I want to spend tomorrow night with you. I am going to hold you in my arms all night."
I sobbed even harder at his words.
"Good night for tonight, Lauren. I'll be back tomorrow night," he said in a determined voice.
I lifted my head and stared at my own bed as I waited for the door to open and close. When it did, I sobbed out loud all over again. I lay on the floor on my side and cried some more. I don't know where the tears came from. But I let them come and pour out of me.
At around midnight, I realized that I would not sleep that night. So I got up out of bed and pulled my last blank canvas board out of my small carry-on suitcase. I then turned on all of the overhead lights and brought lamps from around the room to shine on the canvas. The first thing I painted was a small, pink hog. Her face was forward and she was running away. Her eyes I painted blue - just like mine. In the background, I painted a man wearing jeans and a rust-colored canvas shirt. He was aiming a rifle at the sow. I didn't paint a face on him, but painted bright green eyes over the rifle's sights. It wasn't a hard painting to interpret. It was a picture of Trevor killing the thing that we'd built - our growing love.
It was cathartic. Once that was done, I was able to turn into bed and get a couple of hours of sleep.
I woke up knowing what I had to do. I wasn't proud of it, but I had to for self-preservation. I packed up all of my belongings into my bags and set them by the door. I then walked down the hall to Max and Sam's room. Gently, I knocked on the door. A minute later, Max answered. He was in sweatpants and a t-shirt and did not look unattractive. He rubbed his eyes as he stared at me.
"Yeah? Lauren? You alright?"
His question broke the dams I had built in the night. Tears leaked from my eyes.
"Can I speak with you? Outside?" I said through sobs.
Instantly, he was wide awake.
"Yeah. Give me a second to get my jacket. I'll be right back."
Ten minutes later we were walking outside. It was very early in the morning so I didn't have to worry about anyone running into us.
"Lauren. What has got you so broken up?" he asked me.
"I have to throw the competition, Max. I have to go today."
He stopped walking and stared at me.
"Why would you do a thing like that, Lauren? You actually have a chance at beating me."
"I can't stay another day. I have to go today."
He shook his head at me.
"That's unfair to you and that's unfair to me. I know I can beat Sam. I don't know that I can beat you."
"No, you probably could."
He angrily shook his head.
"No. That's not good enough for me. I need to earn this, Lauren. I don't want it given to me. I don't do handouts."
Behind us, I saw lights go on in the kitchen. The thought of seeing Trevor again made me break again. I grabbed Max's hands as I cried.
"No. You will be doing me a favor, Max. I have to go," I sobbed.
"Why? What's one day?"
"I fell in love for a man who doesn't want me, Max. It's killing me and I just want to go home," I said as I sobbed out loud.
The truth dawned on Max's features then.
"Oh, Lauren. Why did you have to fall for him? I could have told you he was bad news."
I shook my head.
"It doesn't matter. It's done. I'm done. He wants me to stick around for one more night and I can't do it. I need to be home with my family."
Max sighed and ran his hand through his short black hair.
"Fine. I understand. I won't hate you when you throw the competition today."
I smiled in relief.
"Thank you. Thank you for being my friend."
"Friends? Fuck friends. I wanted to beat you. Then I wanted to take you out to dinner."
I couldn't believe that he had made me laugh, but he did.
"No. You go home to your wife. You beat Sam."
He swallowed at something in his throat.
"Of course I will."
With that, I squeezed his hands once more before going back inside and preparing for my early exit. Carefully dodging Trevor, I quietly left my room and headed towards his room. Knowing that he was outside with the other two, I quietly opened the door to his room. The smell of his cologne and his shampoo made tears leak into my eyes again. How the heck was I not dehydrated yet, I wondered. His room was very large and very cl
ean. Definitely the master suite of the mansion, I realized. I took the time to stare at the things on his dresser and at the linens on his bed. How had I not explored the room that belonged to my lover? How had I not gotten to know this space? Ah well. No point in making up for lost time, I thought to myself. I carefully laid my painting of the strawberry on his bed.
"What are you doing in here?" asked a male voice.
Turning around, I saw one of the male producers. He looked to be about my age.
"I'm just leaving."
"That doesn't matter. You should not be in Trevor Garrett's room at all," he said in a huffy tone.
Suddenly, I lost the motivation to keep up the pretense we'd held for so long.
"Why not? He's been in every single square inch of my body."
The producer's mouth dropped open in shock at that. I then walked around him and left the space. I only looked back once.
Trevor and the rest of the producers had made a big deal about the 'final three.' To that effect, there were lots of decorations at the shooting area and lots of cameras too. Trevor chatted us all up. I answered him monosyllabically. Thankfully, he didn't push me.
Then it was time. Like a prisoner walking to the gallows, I walked to the firing range and grabbed the light rifle I would be using to shoot clay pigeons. I looked back once at Max and at Sam who both stared at me. I watched Max shrug infinitesimally. Trevor suddenly looked from me to Max and back at me again.
"Do we need to take a time out?" he asked of me.
"No," I replied. "I'm ready."
He didn't look like he believed me. Still he didn't have a choice. He was the host, after all.
At the wave of his hand, the clay pigeons shot up into the sky. All Sam needed to be one of the final two was for me to miss five. I deliberately missed eight out of ten of them. I watched they clay pieces fall to the ground followed by the sound of the horn indicating that the contest was over. Carefully, I placed the gun on the table and turned to face Trevor. Angrily, he yanked his sunglasses off as he stared at me. He then looked at the cameraman and did a throat slashing motion, indicating that we were off the air. He walked right up to me.
Nice Shootin' Tex Page 16