Heat Wave (13 page)

I'd expected more—a further promise of Fincher futures, or more ranting about how I'd better not screw up. Her lack of care-factor prickled against my hung-over emotions, but it seemed wisest to leave rather than stay and cause more problems for myself.

Trying to walk with dignity, I exited, making it just beyond her line of sight before belching a cloud of stale beer bubbles in a very unladylike fashion.

‘Good morning, Miss Maddie.' An unimpressed middle-aged assistant eyed me. ‘If you'll just come with me …'

I hadn't had a chance to meet all the crew yet, but I was certain that my reputation preceded me—the girl who threw herself on board at the last second, shoved Tabitha Yves into the pool, got roaringly drunk and was now being promoted as a new contestant. I didn't expect to have many allies in production.

I trailed after her, attempting to concentrate as she ran me through a list of instructions from her tablet. ‘Your new cabin is ready for you; be advised there are cameras throughout, so whatever you do may be used as footage on the show. What you do with your days is up to you, but you must be present for the mandatory deck parties. There's one this evening at seven-thirty; hair, makeup and wardrobe will be arriving from six.'

We reached the door of my new digs and she handed me a room card and issued some last dictums. ‘If you wish to organise an activity with Beau, let me know by midday the day before. Sign here, this is your contract.'

She proffered the tablet towards me and I signed with a stylus, feeling as though the devil himself might appear in a ball of flame, shrieking in delight about capturing my eternal soul.

‘Okay, thanks.' She was already gone. Guttingly exhausted and close to needing a long sit on a toilet—preferably one that didn't sing—I swiped my way inside.

The room was lovely, but I wasn't in the mood for decor appreciation. After I expunged more of my sins from the night before down the drain, I crawled into the bed. I felt a moment of gratitude for the queen-sized cocoon, right before I conked out.

***

The banging at the door roused me, as well as the filthy language echoing alongside the knocking. ‘Fuck me … Bitch, hurry the hell up. I don't have time for your white girl nonsense.'

Still wiping sleep from my eyes, I staggered to the door and answered it, finding a very disgruntled makeup artist on the other side. ‘Hi, Natalie.'

‘Oh, please, don't even …' The fierce woman barged into my room, bearing a boxy makeup kit. ‘Sit down, let's get this over with.'

I slid into a chair meekly. I hadn't seen Natalie since our run-in at the dining room, but it appeared as though her anger towards me hadn't faded one bit. ‘Listen, I wanted to say—'

‘Shut it,' she said, slamming her kit on the polished table. Furious, she began to unpack foundations and powders. ‘It's bad enough you lose my brush and trash my shoes, now you've gone and gotten yourself promoted. Some bitches have all the luck.'

‘If it's any consolation, I didn't ask for any of this.'

She tossed her glossy hair back, narrowing mocha eyes. ‘Didn't
ask?
That just makes it worse! You're getting a free ride into the inner circle. You'll be famous. You might even get your own spin-off. Some people would sell a kidney for that!'

My hangover had faded enough for me to bite back, despite the fact she scared the spit out of me. ‘Yeah, but I'm not one of them. I don't want to be on this show; I didn't even want to work on this show!'

‘Lord help me, you are just begging to be slapped.' She reared up.

‘Please don't,' I said, shrinking back. I couldn't understand why she hated me so much. Clearly, she had anger issues, but I didn't get why she focused them in on me.

Stabbing a triangular sponge into a pot of MAC, she began to baste my face in rough swipes. ‘I'm not going to slap you. That would be too easy. I'm just gonna make you look sooooo pretty …'

Half an hour later, she smiled, satisfied. ‘My work is done. Peace out.'

‘Thanks?' I replied, unable to see what she'd done and intensely worried.

I scampered for my bathroom the second she was gone. ‘Oh, God! Oh, no …'

Natalie had done a spectacular job; if the brief was to make me look like a clown whore, she was spot on. My foundation was a bright, tanned orange, making my face look like a rotten tangerine. She'd outlined my lips far outside their natural curve and painted them in with a lurid purple. Panda eyes stared back at me, horrified white spots in the centre of black holes, where oversized false lashes had been glued to my lids.

‘Oh, child. You jus' be makin' friends all over the place.' Mama Ruby stood by the door of the bathroom, her expression a mix of amusement and sympathy. ‘That Natalie, she done you up good.'

‘Mama, help.' The emotion of the previous days caught up to me and I wept rolling tears of self-pity, which tracked black into the orange.

‘No tears, little one. Let Mama go to work.'

The beautiful islander woman scrubbed my face clean, then pulled an emergency kit from her bag of hair products and brushes. As I submitted to her clucking and ministrations, she redid my face to look natural and fresh, while curling my hair into gentle waves that cascaded around my shoulders.

‘I'll speak to that Natalie. She tries to pull this nonsense again, you tell me, you hear?'

‘Thank you, Mama.' I gave her a quick hug, soaking up her warmth and calm. ‘You're wonderful.'

She shook her head. ‘Don't thank me yet, girlie. You still be toting that dark cloud around you. Have you noticed yet how much bad luck seems to stick to you like sand on sap?'

‘Uh … well, I guess I've had a pretty rotten run lately, but I don't believe in juju or whatever.'

‘Mama done told you before—when you're ready, I can help you. You might be one step closer to his saddle, Maddie-girl, but there's a long way to go yet.' With grave concern on her face, she packed up, just as another familiar figure entered my cabin.

‘Gurl! Spank my arse and call me a bitch! I can't believe I get to dress you for the next three
weeeeeks!
' Ricky squealed, grabbing my hands and spinning me around. ‘Quick! I brought three choices and I want to see you in all of them. And I want photos. Then, I'm going to print those photos and put them under my pillow so I can dream sweet dreams all night long.'

‘Are you sure you're not straight?' I asked as I held out my arms for the first costume.

Three changes later, Ricky clapped his hands. ‘That one! Oh, it's that one …'

‘I agree.' The fitted jersey dress was a beautiful cream colour, stopping just below the line of my butt cheeks, hugging my curves to perfection. My arms were bare, save for a wide silver bangle on each wrist, and a pair of chocolate gladiator sandals strapped up my legs to my knee. With hoops in my ears and a smile on my face, I kissed Ricky on the cheek.

‘Thanks, lovely. This is perfect.'

‘Pretty lady, when you smile like that, it's all worth it.' He sighed dreamily. ‘I'd like to keep you in a glass box in my house and take you out every day and dress you up and put you back in the box.'

‘And, now you're creeping me out.' Glancing at the wall clock, I said, ‘Okay, I need to go.'

I strode along the corridor, nervous, but feeling as though good things were coming my way; after so much cruddy luck, surely I was due?

The door next to mine opened and out spilled Sumara, wearing a bubble-gum pink dress with an empire waistline. ‘Oh! Hi. Wow, you look lovely. You're Maddie, right? Aren't you a little dressed up for an assistant?'

‘Hey, Sumara. Funny you should ask—I'm actually a contestant now.'

Her delicate features lit up in joy. ‘Oh, that's so great! It's been really fun so far. All the other girls are super nice, and the food is great, and I've been swimming and caught some sun. You'll love it.'

‘What about Tanner?' I liked Sumara, and I wanted to keep liking her, which meant knowing how invested in my man she was.

‘Who?'

‘Beau.'

‘Oh!' She looped her arm through mine as we ascended a carpeted flight of stairs. ‘You know, don't tell anyone, but I'm not sure if there's anything there. I mean, you just know or you don't, right?'

I breathed out. ‘Right.'

‘Um … so, this is probably really weird of me to ask …' She pulled me aside just before we walked through the door to the deck, lowering her voice and bringing her blonde head close to mine. ‘But, you know that guy you were working with the other night, Greg?'

The amused smile crawled across my lips. ‘Yes …'

‘Um, well, I know he's married, and I don't want to be
that
girl, but he was kind of giving me some pretty strong signals the other night, at least I think he was, maybe I was just seeing things—'

‘Did you want him to be sending signals?' I was trying to feel out her position before endangering Greg's secret married identity.

Her ridiculously oversized eyes creased in conflict. ‘I did. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me the way he did, and there was a spark there, I know it. But I didn't know he was a married man until after, and now I feel really bad. I'm not the kind of woman to even look at someone else's guy.'

I squeezed her hand gently. ‘I can't tell you the story, but I can say that you should talk to Greg again. There are things you don't know.'

‘Thanks, Maddie. I totally will.' She fluffed one of my curls gently, beaming at me. ‘So, are we ready?'

‘As I'll ever be …'

We stepped out onto the deck, where the party was already underway. Amid the fairy lights and colourful waving banners, the other girls tottered on their heels, dancing and drinking. Tropical music played while bartenders served, and camera crews weaved and ducked around, attempting to catch everything.

Sumara gasped. ‘There he is!'

Greg was filming a catfight between Strong and Severe, but as he looked across and glimpsed Sumara, his bearded face lit up.

She waved happily, causing Greg to lower his camera in order to wave back. Meanwhile, Strong had thrown a punch, and a nearby producer squawked at Greg. ‘Hey! Make sure you're getting that.'

We giggled at Greg's red face as he resumed filming. ‘He's a good guy,' I told her.

‘I can tell. Hey, do you want a drink?'

‘No thanks, lovely. I need to go find Tanner before I do anything else.'

‘Okay.'

Greg appeared as Sumara left. ‘Did she ask about me?' he whispered.

‘Shouldn't you be filming a catfight?'

‘Nah, that's over. I'm supposed to track you now.'

Feeling the unblinking eye of the camera on my face, sweat began to bead across my brow. ‘I don't much like it on this side of the lens.'

‘You look great. Just forget I'm even here.'

‘How am I supposed to do that? You never stop talking!'

‘Grump much? Still hung-over, Hobo?'

‘Just tell me where Tanner is, so I can do this thing.' I pulled at the hem of my dress, feeling very exposed.

Greg nodded. ‘He went 'round the corner before with one of the girls.'

‘I'll just bet I know who …'

Sure enough, Tanner and Callie were sitting knee to knee in a little alcove overlooking the ocean. Shielded from the world, it was only a three-man camera crew and them.

Feeling a burst of savage intent, I was actually looking forward to being able to bust their little bubble. As soon as I heard what they were discussing …

‘Well, I'm glad your head is okay.' Tanner laughed.

‘Me too,' Callie responded. In skin-tight jeans and a pale yellow shirt, she looked earthy and outdoorsy—which I guessed was her intention. ‘Thanks for our chat yesterday.'

‘Any time, darlin'. Actually, there's something I'd like you to see.' Tanner put his thumb and forefinger in his mouth, whistling high and piercing. ‘Hey, Blue! Get over here.'

From the opposite direction, the old dog galloped towards the couple, followed by a ginger buddy.

‘No
way!
' Callie squealed, dropping to her knees on the wooden deck. ‘Chilli? Oh my God, girl! It's so good to see you.'

I rolled my eyes as she hugged the dog tightly. Then she leapt up and kissed Tanner on the cheek. ‘Thank you so much. I can't believe you made this happen for me!'

She laced her fingers around Tanner's neck, while my own throat crawled with the tang of bitter hatred.

‘You're welcome,' he replied. He hadn't lifted his hands to hold her, but he hadn't pushed her away either.

‘What the hell are you waiting for?' hissed Greg. ‘Get in there before they start doing it against the hand rails!'

‘Okay, okay!' I sprang forward as if I'd been stung, calling out, ‘Hey, Tanner! Can I get a minute?'

Both Tanner and Callie turned to look at me. His face read disbelief; hers was irritated. Feeling the power shift slightly back to me, I threw my foot forward with confidence.

But I didn't realise that Callie's dog had bounded over to my feet. As I strode towards Tanner, my foot connected with the red animal, sending it flying.

‘
Chilli!'
Callie sprinted to the dog, which was whimpering with its tail low. ‘Are you okay?'

‘Oh, bugger. I'm so sorry, I didn't see it—'

She turned injured eyes up to me. ‘Why would you kick an innocent dog? What's wrong with you?'

‘Nothing!' I said defensively. ‘I didn't mean it. There's a reason that dogs aren't allowed on ships, you know.'

Tanner approached, looking torn. ‘Is she okay, Callie? I know Maddie didn't mean it.'

The animal had started walking around again, completely fine, but Callie scooped it up like a baby. ‘I'm not sure. I'm going to take her back to my cabin to let her rest and keep an eye on her.'