Chapter Nineteen #2
Nothing mattered other than the stack of buttermilk fried chicken dusted with paprika salt that sat in the middle of the table.
Or the tray of BBQ ribs lacquered in a deep mahogany glaze that smelled sweet and smoky.
Barra imagined pulling the meat clean from the bone.
Her eyes then drifted to the heavy ceramic dish of mac and cheese that was somehow still bubbling, and then to a pizza-sized plate of lamb sliders with glossy brioche buns and melted cheese sliding down the sides.
There was cornbread, still steaming, in a woven basket lined with a cloth, a bowl of coleslaw with thinly sliced cabbage Barra knew would crunch under her teeth.
“Is that a Paper Plane?” Toph asked, pointing toward the far end of the table where three rows of drinks stood on a silver platter. “Please, someone tell me that’s a Paper Plane.”
Yes. In fact, it was. Six coupe glasses of amber-colored bourbon, Aperol, Amaro Nonino, and fresh lemon juice sat lined up beside six classic pina coladas piled high with whipped coconut cream and pineapple wedges.
Barra’s eyes snagged the highball glasses of Gin Rickeys.
London dry gin, fresh lime juice, and soda water.
A drink so simple it went down easier than it should.
She swiped one off the table and handed it to Allie before she could stop herself.
“This tastes like home,” she said, her voice every bit as flirty as it would be if they were at some swanky rooftop bar with chrome and leather barstools and the skyline glittering behind them.
Toph noticed. But she was the only one. The rest were already swarming the table and filling their plates. Toph waggled her eyebrows at Barra, but since she was already privy to Barra and Allie’s philandering, Barra only smiled sheepishly and her stomach unclenched in relief.
But then her gut twisted for another reason as Tilly picked up an envelope and tore it open.
“As the last three pairs in the game,” she read, then paused, drawing it out.
Barra nearly yelled at her because she had already had enough stress this evening.
Instead, she batted her eyelashes as Tilly continued.
“Enjoy a feast together to celebrate making it this far in the game. Tomorrow will come with new twists.”
“That’s it? It doesn’t say what twists?” Valerie asked.
“That’s it,” Tilly replied. Then she lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you don’t trust me and want to read it yourself.” She held out the slip of paper, which Valerie eyed hungrily. But then, to everyone’s shock, Valerie shook her head and smiled. “I trust you.”
But did she really? And did Barra trust Valerie?
Not on her life. Still, all of it faded against the sight of dripping barbecue ribs and the baked top crust of mac and cheese.
In fact, the game itself felt momentarily suspended, like someone had called a truce in the middle of a war.
Alliances meant nothing. Advantages didn’t exist. There were just six hungry people who couldn’t wait to dig in.
Barra slid onto a bench and Allie climbed in beside her.
Beneath the table, Allie’s hand found her knee almost as if she was checking that Barra was still there.
After everything that had happened tonight, there was honestly nothing better than Allie’s fingers warming her skin.
Barra reached down and squeezed Allie’s fingers back.
For half a second, she considered leaving her hand there—consequences be damned—but the camera crew was circling like vultures.
Then there was also Valerie sitting beside Barra, and well, the woman had eyes like a hawk.
Besides, they needed both their hands to eat.
And eat they did.
Barra ate until she was more stuffed than a Thanksgiving turkey.
Then she ate some more. Another slider. Another helping of mac and cheese.
Thank goodness there were only three drinks each, because any more and Barra might be up on the table, tapping it out to a self-sung Riptide by Vance Joy because she knew the lyrics by heart.
That said, three drinks were plenty, too.
Barra felt her inhibitions slipping. Allie looked so damn good in the flicker of the bonfire, she had to physically look away before she did something stupid.
“Can everyone please put their chicken bones down,” Toph said, clinking the back of her knife against her half-empty pina colada. The sound cut through the chatter immediately. “I’d like to say something before the night ends.” Her words were slurred and her smile was a little too big.
In fact, Toph wasn’t acting like Toph at all.
“As long as it isn’t a sloppy speech about us all making it this far,” Margaret said, leaning forward across the table to lap up the rest of the melted cheese with half a buttered brioche bun.
“There’s nothing wrong with a sloppy speech,” Toph pointed out, swaying a little.
“Hear, hear,” Tilly added, lifting her drink in agreement.
Barra was about to add her two cents, but Toph got there first. “Barra and Allie,” she said, tilting her head at them. “Everyone here knows that the two of you have been sneaking off at midnight to fuck.”
Wait. What? Barra’s jaw dropped so low she could almost feel it touch her thighs. They knew?
She didn’t have to look at Allie beside her to know that she was also in shock.
She could feel her stiffen up beside her, and she could feel her shoulders tense and her body vibrate as her nervous system had jumped into an automatic fight-or-flight scenario.
Barra wanted to reach over and squeeze her hand again, but she couldn’t move. The information was paralyzing.
Toph seemed completely unperturbed by Barra’s sudden shock or the fact that she’d rendered her speechless because she went on. “And we just want to say—”
Tilly interrupted. She stood up and bumped shoulders with Toph, nearly knocking her off her feet.
“We just want to say we are all here for it. Love is amazing. We all love love. And the one thing we’ve learned over the years watching and playing this game is that it’s not just a game of survival.
It’s also a dating game.” Then Toph turned and kissed Tilly smack bang on the lips.
It was the most unromantic kiss that Barra had witnessed in her life.
She had to look away before her face folded in on itself from second-hand embarrassment.
But then, like someone touching a bruise, she couldn’t help it; she looked back anyway.
Because, really, it was just too deeply hilarious to see Toph kiss anyone.
Barra hadn’t realized it until now, but she’d always thought of Toph as asexual.
Tilly pushed Toph away and laughed so hard that she nearly lost her balance. She was just about to fall backward and topple off the bench when Toph caught her by the elbow. “Just to be clear,” Tilly started, fanning herself as she sat back down. “Toph and I are not seeing each other.”
“That we are not,” Toph agreed with one nod of her head. “But that was a nice kiss.”
“It wasn’t bad,” Tilly said, winking at her.
Valerie, who had been quieter than usual all night, shook her head and looked at the two drunkards like a disappointed mother.
“Thank goodness, because you two are so wrong for each other.” Then she turned to Barra, then to Allie.
Her expression was unreadable. Or more accurately, Barra’s ability to read facial cues was diminished not just by the alcohol seeping through her veins but by shock.
They all knew. And they didn’t care. “I don’t want either of you to win this game.
Frankly, Barra, I didn’t think you deserved to win Season Five. ”
“Hey, that’s not very nice,” Allie interrupted.
“Let me finish,” Valerie said, holding up her hand. “I think Dominique was a better strategic player than you, but this game is also a social game. And you’re one of the best social players I’ve seen.” Then she turned to Allie. “You’re the weakest link in challenges.”
Barra squared her shoulders, ready to lay it on Valerie. Who did she think she was? But then Allie’s hand slid across her knee, and Barra felt herself relax into her touch.
“But I like the two of you. And frankly, I like you more together,” Valerie went on, lifting her glass to her lips.
Then she flourished her free hand between the two of them.
“You balance each other out, and this whole pair thing works for you. If you’d been paired up from the start, I might even have considered working with you. But you know.”
And Barra did know. Or she didn’t. Either way, she didn’t know what to say, which really was rare for her.
“Thank you,” she managed, but only because Allie’s fingers squeezed hers gently and somehow the words spilled out.
“I appreciate your honesty.” Then she looked at everyone else at the table.
“Thank you for being so cool about it. It happened unexpectedly.”
“The best things usually do,” Toph said, smiling. Then she raised her glass in a toast. “To Barra and Allie, for finding love.”
“And to production, who’s probably going to spin this into some love story and the rest of us won’t get any TV time,” Tilly added.
Everyone laughed. Except Valerie, who seemed to ponder the possibility. Then she smiled and lifted her glass. “But just to reiterate, I still don’t want either of you to win,” she said.
“Noted,” Barra replied, rolling her eyes. But she was grinning so wide her cheeks ached.