Walk of Shame (14 page)

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Authors: O. L. Gregory

BOOK: Walk of Shame
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Production called us off the bus
ten minutes later, to go board the boat. We went through the safety drill and
the planned time frame for the day. Production briefed us on their plans and gave
us a few dos and don'ts for the day, and asked the guys to give them a quick
plan for what order they thought to go in and what they'd be doing with me.
Space was limited and they wanted to make sure they had each planned area
cleared before we got to it, so equipment and production members wouldn't end
up caught in a shot.

We all stood to disperse and
Stephen extended his hand out to me.

"Don't you have to go
through plan-approval with the show gods?" I asked with a gesture towards
the guys gathering around one of the crewmembers holding a clipboard.

"Trevor will let them
know," and he came towards me to take my hand.

"Where are we going?"

"Well, there were some ideas
tossed around. We wanted to take you below decks where we could each have some
privacy with you, at least from each other. But then we each figured out that
we'd be leaving you alone with seven other guys and decided that was too high a
price to pay."

I laughed. No, I guess they
wouldn't want their date disappearing behind closed doors and then have to
watch as seven guys paraded in and out after you, whether camera guys were remaining
with her, or not.

He guided me over to the stairs
and we started climbing. "We figured that if there were two decks, we'd
scope out a spot on the top deck to take you to. Anybody not enjoying time with
you at that point is to stay on the main deck and leave you and your current
date alone."

"I think I like this plan
better. Holing me up in a cabin below would make me miss out on all the sights
I came out here to see. Question, though."

"Shoot," he said as one
of the production guys pointed him in the direction of the back of the yacht.

"Do I get to swim or jet-ski
or anything other than being confined to the top deck until dinner?"

"Oh, yeah. A couple of the
guys wanted that. In that case, the others let you and the guy go and hang out
off the bough of the ship and the rest stay to the back."

"And all of you guys are
going to follow your self-inflicted boundaries of the day?"

"Anyone who breaks the rules
has to clean the bedroom level of the house."

There was a large lounging area
in the back of the boat. With a large padded area big enough to be a bed, large
pillows around the edges to serve as a seating area, with built-in end table
looking areas with cup holders that lined either side. And so we could enjoy
the breeze without the sun blinding us, a canopy stretched over the entire
area.

"This is nice," I said.
"So, the downstairs of the house is always neat and clean?"

"Housekeeping comes in when
we all go to bed or are out."

"And they only clean the
downstairs."

"You got it."

We leaned back on the pillows and
got settled. When I looked back up at him, he turned that intense gaze on and
swept his eyes up and down before falling on my own gaze. "How do you
always look so good?" he asked as he leaned closer to me.

"Professional hair and
makeup artists every morning. How is it that you always smell so good?" I
asked as I leaned in to meet him.

"Keep dating me and maybe
I'll tell you. For now it's just part of my charm," and he closed the
space and kissed me.

We spent the rest of our time
comparing childhoods and familial attitudes about our way of life. I'd decided
that was going to be my theme of discussions today. It was time to get past the
pleasantries with all of them and start getting to know these guys on a deeper
level.

Trevor climbed the stairs next
and Stephen made his exit. They nodded to each other as they walked past one
another, but no warm greetings that Stephen tended to share with the rest of
them.

"You're an enigma," I
said as Trevor approached and got comfortable.

"How's that?"

"You come over to my cottage
three days in a row, then nothing. You're not part of the friendly vibe most of
the guys in the house have going on, but today you seem to be the unspoken
leader with getting today organized. What's up with that?"

"They noticed that I was
disappearing, so I backed off before they figured out where I was going. It's
hard to get buddy-buddy with them when they know we knew each other before the
show. It singles me out as the one with the advantage. And I've seen production
organize these kinds of events for a couple years now. I knew how to get it
laid out in a way production would approve."

"You're trying to find your
spot in the mix."

He shrugged. "It's all
right. I knew coming in like this would be more difficult. And I can't cook
like Phillip. So I'll just continue to try and help out when I can and see how
it goes."

"Hmm." I let my eyes
fall to a button that I'd spotted a little while ago. "I wonder what would
happen if I pushed that."

He smiled. "Go ahead and
push it. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Uhhh, the boat could blow
up," I answered with such innocent exaggeration that he laughed.

"I don't think they have a
blow up button."

"But they could," I
said, warming up to the banter game.

"If they did, they wouldn't
put it out here for the guests to push."

"Where would they put
it?"

"In the wheelhouse, of
course."

"But why would the captain
have a button to sink his own ship?"

"Not the whole ship. It's
rigged to just blow up the annoying guests."

"Ah, they wouldn't put a
blow up button out here then."

"Right."

"But what if there was a
disgruntled guest? And he snuck onto the ship after hours and rigged a blow up
button for the staff, and put it here for the next guests to push. That way, he
could get his revenge and maybe not be found responsible for it, if someone
else pressed it."

"The sneaky bastard. And a
very efficient worker to get it all installed and cleaned up in just a few
hours."

"He must have been
determined."

Trevor nodded and we fell silent
for a moment, taking in the passing scenery.

I was having a hard time with the
whole Trevor thing. When I'd first met him, I filed him in my mind as a
stranger that I'd have to temporarily trust, and categorized him in the
business-acquaintance department of my mind. But then he put me at such ease in
the few days we'd been thrown together, my mind had shifted him into the
temporary-friend bin.

The problem is, when I saw him
come out of that limo on night one, I saw a friend coming in to support me. I,
subconsciously, slid him into my friends file. Meanwhile, he'd had me slid into
his romantic-interest file for weeks.

Each night, I lie in bed and go
over the guys in my head. I think about who said what, who did which thing,
what impressed me, what didn't, that kind of thing. And try as I might, I
couldn't seem to be able to lift Trevor out of the friend-zone and get my mind
to think of him in a different direction. I'd thought about giving him a one-on-one
date this week, to try to give us a true chance to break through that ice. But
I'd opted to explore my lukewarm feelings for Drake and Ardent instead.

"You should do it,"
Trevor said, breaking me away from my thoughts.

"Do what?"

"Push the button."

"If the guests were supposed
to push it, they'd have it labeled to tell us its function."

"But if they didn't want us
to push it, they shouldn't have placed it there. If they didn't want us to
touch it, they should have put that on a label."

I laughed. "Okay, you push
it."

He leaned over, pushed the
button, sat back, and then we both ducked when we heard small motors begin
running. The overhead canopy began to retract slowly, sending us both into
laughter.

"Phew," he said with
exaggerated relief. "Glad we didn't blow up." He smiled and regarded
me for a second. "Do you feel better now that you know what it does?"

I grinned. "Yes, actually, I
do." And then, I decided to take the opportunity to break the physical ice
between us. I sat up, took off my top, and wiggled out of my shorts before
reaching for my bag. I put my clothes inside and grabbed the sunscreen.

His face had registered shock,
until he realized that all I was revealing was the bikini I was wearing
underneath the outfit. Then he smiled and let his eyes sweep over me.

I spread on sunscreen over all
the parts of myself that I could reach, then handed him the bottle and
stretched out on my stomach. He accepted the bottle and then paused. He
squirted some into his hand and began to smear it over himself. Then he picked
the bottle back up, looked at me, and paused again.

"Did I forget to engrave the
invitation?" I asked.

"Yeah, you did. But that's
okay. I'll come to the ball anyway." And then he proceeded not to smear
the lotion onto my back, but to massage it into my skin.

It wasn't a bad massage. I
enjoyed it as I led the conversation into childhoods and family. When he was
done, he handed the bottle back to me with a raised brow.

I got up on my knees and returned
the favor. By the end of our time, I was feeling a bit less friendly and a bit
more snuggly toward him.

"I hear tell the Harley on
the lot is yours," I said before he could leave to let the next one have
their turn.

"Yeah, it is. Did you like
what you saw?" he asked, dishing out some flirty innuendo.

"Maybe the next time you
come visit me, we could do something other than swimming or sitting in the
dark."

"You wanna ride my
hog?"

"Yeah, I really do."

"I'll talk to production and
make it happen."

"Oooh, powerful," I
said, batting my eyelashes.

His goofy grin was in place when
he turned to make his way around the cameras to leave.

Mike strolled across the deck and
then held his hand out for me. "You and I have done the whole harbor
cruise and whale watching thing before."

I scrunched my face up in guilt.
"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that," I said and took his hand and let
him pull me up. "I didn't think about the connection between one week's
date similarities and another. I just picked activities that looked good to me
at the time."

"Well, I saw that they were
offering a light lunch. I thought we could go below deck, and have a little
lunch on our own."

"Sure."

He escorted me down two flights
and into a private cabin that had a booth set up for us, with salads and fresh
cut fruit laid out for us. It was tight quarters in there with our
technological chaperones. Once Mike and I were settled, the cameraman and sound
guy came in. There was just enough of a path for the waiter to get in, but
there was no way Mike and I could get out without somebody else leaving the
tiny room first.

He relaxed back against the
booth, spread his arms across the back of the seat, and his feet came to rest
next to mine, stretched as far as the bottom of the booth would allow. I did
him one better, I slid off my flip-flops and put my feet up on the booth next
to him. I'm sure the staff wouldn't be too pleased if they found out, but I was
more interested in the smile I got from Mike over it.

"Did I mention that I have a
habit of working near lakes, mountains, and sometimes even islands?" he
asked.

"The National Park System,
yes. I haven't forgotten. It's one of your perks."

"Were you checking out some
of the rigs this morning? Inspecting your possible future homes?"

"You saw the direction I
took off in, did you?"

He shrugged. "We all did. We
were curious as to where you were taking Drake and Ardent, so Mitch and I ran up
to the roof to sneak a peek."

"I wasn't checking out other
rigs. I took them with me so they wouldn't have to stand there and be outcasts
in the discussion. We went into my rig because I had some stuff to take care
of. In fact," I said with a soft chuckle, "I left them in there,
folding pamphlets and assembling press kits for me."

"Mixing business with
pleasure?"

"You have to. I can bank as
many articles and blog entries as I want, but something always comes up. I have
to jot ideas down when they come to me, and notes about things I've seen.
There's always something that has to be done. What did you do yesterday with
the block of work time they gave us?"

He gave me a shy grin and dug his
phone out of his pocket. "Rising to the Sun Road, in Glacier National Park,
is having some issues." He brought up some video footage and handed it to
me. "Water trickles down that rock wall, from the glaciers melting above.
It seeps into the ground. It's been collecting in, and saturating, the ground
underneath the road. Large pieces of the asphalt have been breaking off."

"Which isn't something you
want to have happening ten feet from a cliff, with tourist drivers who aren't
used to driving that high up in the Rockies where weather changes and wind
speed fluctuates."

"Exactly. So, I was looking
at this footage, and of some pictures they've sent me, and I've been using the
time to come up with a plan for them."

"So I'm not the only one working."

"Nope. So, what's that grey
thing secured to the back lift-gate on your fifth wheel?"

I laughed. "That's my
boat."

"Your boat?"

"It opens up into a boat and
folds back down for storage."

His face lit up. "I've seen
those on the internet. Mine's inflatable, it's a pain to get out and get blown
up and then collapsed and put back into its storage spot when I'm ready to move
on."

"I like mine. It's heavy,
but I enjoy it."

"You've got a good mountain
bike on the back there, I saw."

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