Chapter 10
After a picnic on the beach under a giant umbrella, Beau walked me home. Neither of us discussed using a strike—we both have too much to lose to throw any chances away.
Shivering from the damp, I jumped in the shower, then crawled into bed for another nana-nap, which are becoming a wonderful habit here.
My team arrived again to beautify me late in the afternoon. Mama Ruby pulled at my matted curls critically. ‘Foolish girl,’ she chided. ‘Ruining all my hard work. It’ll have to be a bun tonight. I ain’t settin’ this mess again.’
‘Thanks, Mama.’
With my hair piled high on my head, I adjusted my navy blue mini-dress, pulling at the fabric to make sure it covered my butt. I wasn’t sure what the evening plans were—the message from the runner only said we were to meet at the bungalow at seven.
I clopped down the walkway on my towering sand-coloured heels, but the height meant I could only walk about as fast as a drunk person navigating a straight line. ‘Screw it,’ I muttered, pulling the shoes off. Padding on, I decided I’d don them again when I got to the bungalow.
Fast and silent as I was, it wasn’t surprising Toshi and Clara didn’t hear me. They stood hidden in the shadows just off the path, while the same camera guy from the bushes behind me last night filmed them quietly.
Clara was talking. ‘… so, I was just really fucking hurt when you dumped me, okay? I was like, what the fuck ever, man. I’ll just show him by becoming so fucking famous, he’ll see my face on every magazine, every TV, and he’ll be so sorry.’
She took a ragged breath. ‘But now, you’re here. You came here for me. And … yeah, I still fucking love you too.’
Toshi leaned into her. ‘I love you, my flower, my Clara. I’d be honoured if you will allow me to use a strike on you now.’
‘Oh, Toshi …’ She grabbed his face and pulled him in for a deep kiss. I grinned goofily, then realised staring at people making out made me nearly as pervy as the camera guy. Tiptoeing off, I hoped things would work out for the two of them.
Just a little further down the path, I found the bungalow back in party mode. I gratefully scooped up a glass of champagne from the tray at the door, then realised I needed to put my shoes back on.
‘Can I hold that for you?’ Henry appeared by my side and lifted the glass from my hand.
‘Thanks, Henry!’ I pulled the first shoe back on, hopping a little. ‘How was your day?’
‘Good, thank you. Oh! Careful!’ As I stuffed my foot in the second high heel, I toppled over towards Henry.
For a second, I hung on the air. I wasn’t worried; Henry was right there, he would catch me.
Then he stepped backwards and let me fall.
I landed hard on my knees, then face-planted smack on the floor. Moaning in pain, I pushed up, hurting everywhere.
Chris appeared from nowhere. Kneeling beside me, he said, ‘Tara! Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I think so,’ I said, gingerly inspecting the graze on my shoulder which would probably bruise. My knees were throbbing, and when I touched my lip I found blood on my fingers.
Chris’ eyes were worried. ‘Hey,’ he yelled. ‘Can we get some ice over here?’ Turning on Henry, he snarled, ‘What the fuck is wrong with you, mate? You saw it happening and you let her fall!’
‘I … I didn’t know if she’d want me to save her! It would have been a strike for both of us.’ He tugged uncomfortably at his collar. ‘Tara, I’m so sorry.’
‘Not fucking good enough, mate. You’re a total tosser.’ Chris stood, nose to nose with Henry. ‘I would never let a lady fall. Not for one strike—not for three.’
‘Listen, I don’t appreciate your tone.’
‘I don’t appreciate your face. Lucky, there’s no strike if I put my hands on you.’ Chris gave Henry a small push, and both guys flared up like peacocks.
‘Jesus!’ I yelled. ‘Settle down, both of you. I’m okay, see …’ I stood carefully, balancing on the table closest to me for support. ‘See? I’m fine.’
‘Um … Tara?’ Henry turned his face away, his cheeks burning.
‘What?’
Chris filled in the gap, his eyes burning holes in my skin. ‘Babe, your skirt.’
For a second, all I could process was Chris’ use of the word ‘babe,’ then I felt a cool breeze blowing around my backside. Turning my head, I could see my skirt caught up around my waist, while the camera crew behind me zoomed in for a close-up of my black lace panties. Sighing, I brushed my skirt down. ‘There. All better.’
I looked back to the guys, one studiously avoiding eye contact with me, and the other staring at me like he was a stoner and my arse was a bag of chips. ‘Oh, honestly. I’ve been in a bikini all week. One flash of panties isn’t a big deal.’
Clearing his throat, Henry asked, ‘Tara, can I escort you to a table?’
‘Bugger off, sunshine,’ Chris retorted. ‘She’s sitting with me.’
‘Actually, you’re both annoying the crap out of me right now. I’ll find my own seat, thanks.’ With as much dignity as I could muster, I limped off. I wasn’t that irritated; I actually understood where they were both coming from. Henry would have genuinely thought he was doing the gentlemanly thing by letting me fall, and Chris was trying, in his own macho, stupid way, to defend my honour. But I still needed a break.
As I lowered myself gently into a chair, Meghan rushed to my side. ‘Oh, you poor wee dear! Are you alright?’
‘I’m good, thanks, Meghan.’
She smiled at me. ‘That’s good. I thought you should know, I had a grand date today.’
‘Oh, really? Anyone I know?’
‘Well, actually, yes. Have you met Nikau?’
‘That’s the Maori guy, right?’
She nodded, her gorgeous freckled cheeks even pinker than usual. ‘Yes. He’s amazing! It turns out, Nik and I have loads in common, you know?’
I glanced across at the bar where Nik stood, ordering beers. With his sleeve of tribal tattoos covering his entire arm and his broad nose and brow, the New Zealander was about as different from Meghan as giraffes are from seahorses.
But when he glanced across the room at her, I could see his dark eyes light up in joy. I guess opposites do attract …
‘Here he comes!’ she squealed, clutching my arm. ‘What should I say?’
‘I don’t think it will matter, honey.’
Nik arrived at our table. ‘Kia ora, ladies. Can I sit here?’
Meghan giggled instead of answering, so I said, ‘Sure. I’m Tara.’
‘Nikau. You’re the Aussie, right?’
‘Yup. Great to have a Kiwi here.’
‘Cheers, bro.’ He sat next to Meghan, and shyly slid a bottle of cider her way. ‘Megs, I got this for you. I remember you said you like fruity cider. This one has strawberry and pear in it.’
‘Thank you, Nik. You’re very kind.’
The two of them stared at each other, lost in their own little universe, and I smiled, happy for Meghan.
Waiters descended with plates of food, and I tucked in, not worried about being a third wheel when I had crispy-skin salmon and snow peas to keep me company.
As I ate my fish, I observed Toshi and Clara across the room. They were sitting as close as possible, staring adoringly into each other’s eyes. Toshi speared a snow pea with his fork and fed it to Clara, who closed her lips over the food sensuously. I wondered if it was legal to touch someone using a fork, but since no one screamed, ‘strike!’ I figured it must be okay. It also raised some interesting implications for the use of tools or other items for contact. Feathers and silk scarves, anyone?
After the plates were cleared, Nik and Meg came up for air and the three of us argued good-naturedly about which of our three nations follows the best code of football.
Just as Nik and I were beginning to win the ‘ Is it called soccer or football? ’ debate over Meg, the gong sounded and Miles took the stage. Everyone groaned.
‘Now, now!’ said Miles, laughing. ‘Is that any way to greet your esteemed host? How was date day, people?’
A mixture of responses filled the room, from cat-calls to unenthusiastic moans. ‘Good to hear! So, dates will occur every second day while you’re here on the island—and challenges will happen on the others.
‘But on date-day evenings, we’ll be playing a different game …’ A large screen flickered on behind Miles, and words appeared.
What you don’t know!
‘What does that mean?’ asked the French girl who wasn’t Babette. With her dark locks and more modest body language, she was definitely my favourite of the two. She sat across from the other American guy, the one I hadn’t met, who looked distinctively like a banker/Wall Street type.
‘Good question, Pauline. We all have secrets we’d rather keep hidden—but here on Erotic Island, no secret is safe. Every second night, we’ll be revealing a secret from our female competitors, and one from our men as well.’
Tension descended. All over the room, people began to fidget and twitch. I don’t have anything to hide, so I wasn’t worried, but the sweaty brows and concerned faces around me told a different story.
‘So, tonight, let’s start with our French competitors.’
Both girls sat up straighter. Miles narrowed his eyes. ‘Would you believe, one of these lovely ladies has a very interesting day job, working as a prostitute?’
People gasped . I bet I can freaking guess who, I thought, looking at Babette, with her boobs practically falling out of her shirt and her lips as scarlet as the Moulin Rouge windmill.
Miles indicated the screen. ‘Folks, may I present the lovely Sabine! Available by the hour or for weekends, she is apparently the pride of the Champs-élysées.’ An image of Pauline filled the TV, in a black evening gown split to her crotch. She lay atop a grand piano, her breasts spilling over, while her eyes invited everyone to share an evening of classy, expensive sex.
Horrified, I looked back to where Pauline sat. She had her arms crossed, but the look on her face was one of indifference. ‘It matters not to me that you reveal these things,’ she said, head held high. ‘I’m not a common whore, I’m the most expensive courtesan in Paris. I’m good at what I do, so I should be proud, no? I already told Chase today on our date.’
The banker piped up. ‘She did, folks. Hey, I’ve had gals in New York sleep with me because I paid for dinner or bought them a necklace—at least Pauline is honest about it. If anyone has an issue with her, they can speak with me.’ He smiled pleasantly at Pauline, and her elegant face softened. ‘How about a little less judgement, hey Miles?’
A grin was frozen on Miles’ face. This was obviously not going the way he expected. ‘No judgement from me, my dear boy. I am simply the messenger.’
The screen fell blank, and Miles cleared his throat. ‘So, now it’s time for the gents! You all know Toshi is a martial arts expert, but would you believe he is as good with a bow staff as he is with his, ahem, other staff?’
I watched Clara stiffen and look at Toshi, her huge eyes like giant question marks.
‘Interestingly, these two decided to use their first strikes on each other this very evening. But, my dear Clara—didn’t you ever wonder why Toshi really broke your heart? Was it, perhaps, a guilty conscience? Let’s watch!’
A lovely Japanese girl with pink hair appeared on screen. She spoke in Japanese while subtitles flowed across the screen.
Toshi and I met at a karaoke bar. He was there with work friends and I thought he was so handsome! He was very drunk, and he told me he had a girlfriend, but I knew he wanted me. I took him into the bathroom and gave him a blowjob. The way his cock felt in my mouth, I knew we were meant to be together.
The screen went thankfully still, but the image of the other woman stayed frozen in full view. Everyone waited silently for Clara to react.
She stood with total dignity. Without saying a word, she walked out.
‘Clara, wait! Please …’ Toshi followed her, pleading.
When they were out of sight, Miles stretched his lips wide in a gruesome smile. ‘Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it?’ No one answered him. ‘Now, contestants, you are free to enjoy the rest of tonight, and we’ll see you on the beach tomorrow for challenge number two!’
For a moment, we all sat like mannequins. Nik was the first to move. Standing, he threw his napkin on the table in disgust. ‘Megs, can I walk you home?’
‘Please. Good night, Tara.’
‘’Night, guys,’ I said absently.
With all the fun sucked out of the room, everyone began to drift out. Henry waved tentatively as he left, and I gave him a tight smile in return.
I stood awkwardly, wincing at my sore knees as they protesting against weight bearing. ‘Can you walk okay?’ Chris materialised by my side.
‘I’ll be fine.’ I walked unevenly past him, but my ridiculous shoes almost caused me to fall again. Staggering, I gripped the back of a chair for support.
‘You won’t make it on those,’ he said, amused. ‘Sit down. Let me help.’
Too sore to argue, I did as he said. Chris kneeled at my feet and took my shoe in his hand. Carefully, so he didn’t touch my skin, he slid the high heels slowly from my foot. I shivered slightly at the intimacy of the act.
‘I’m sorry about before,’ said Chris, looking up at me, his icy eyes contrite. ‘I didn’t mean to go off. I just hate seeing you hurt.’
‘I know,’ I said. We stayed like that for a moment, alone in the bungalow. Well, alone if you didn’t count the crew carefully documenting our movements.
‘I’m not going to hassle you. I just wanted to make sure you made it back to your room okay. I made a production runner grab a wheelchair for you, only if you want it. He’s waiting with it on the walkway.’
I hate being treated like I’m handicapped, or like a little girl, but the agonising throb in my knee saw my indignation dissipate. ‘Thanks.’
He slipped off my second shoe, and shadowed me as I stood again and made my way to the exit.
Once I was in my wheelchair, I said, ‘Thank you, Chris. You didn’t have to do this.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘Yeah. Sweet dreams, babe.’
He loped off down the platform, and my body shook, desperate to follow him.