Season 20, Episode 6 PB&J Sandwich #3
“Because I guard their privacy! Not make them my fucking storyline for camera time.”
I bit back a harsh remark, knowing nothing good would come of it. “I don’t do that.”
She scoffed and muttered something in Russian before abandoning me to the chlorine.
I was seething as I returned to the penthouse, her words battering my skull.
I knew I wasn’t exploiting the kids. I had never let the show film our calls or anything like that.
More immediately concerning was that both Russians had picked up on me and Shawn, so there was no way Troy wasn’t biding his time to make it a story.
Once we resolved today’s mess with PB, Shawn and I had to decide our next step.
I hoped I could convince Jenny to put her concerns aside long enough to ask Attorney Evelyn how to handle it, if only to better insulate me for the divorce proceedings.
The last thing I wanted was for something that was rapidly becoming precious to me to feel more and more like a land mine buried in my path.
The elevator doors parted, and I trudged to my room to find Imogen equally fuming.
PB had beat her to Camdon, and her old pal still refused to vote how she wanted.
“But why is Camdon scared of Aspen?” I pressed.
“I am positive there are no pancakes after talking to him, and if Aspen didn’t hate me before… ”
“Oh, there are pancakes,” she corrected. “Aspen just wasn’t cooking them.”
I lowered my voice, covering my mic with my hand: “Who, then?”
“Peanut. Butter. Pancakes.” Each syllable came with simmering fury, and I got it.
I collapsed on the bed, my eyes hunting some reprieve in the ceiling. “The whole time?”
“PB invited Camdon and Royce to ‘breakfast’ at the airport before we flew to Shanghai. He offered them pancakes, they accepted said pancakes, then he whipped out his little tape recorder and threatened to tell the producers. He blackmailed them to vote however he wanted.”
“Before the first vote in Shanghai?”
She nodded. “They had to vote for you and me, or he’d get them banned.”
“So they did his dirty work to protect their own asses, and PB made Aspen the fall guy?”
“Plus, he coerced Camdon to approach Greta without mentioning him. To play all of us against each other so we’d vote however he told us.”
After all I’d learned, how did I make the same damn mistake every time? Hadn’t it been evident from Vanessa’s tantrum in Italy how PB treated his alleged friends?
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you about him,” I finally said to Imogen. “He played me, and I bought it like an absolute moron.”
“At least we know the truth now, even if he’s made himself untouchable,” she answered grimly. “Now can we never say fucking ‘pancakes’ again?”
I rose, the fire that had been extinguished since my panic attack on the roof reigniting inside. Maybe all I’d needed was an enemy. “He’s only untouchable until he gets taken out.”
Imogen looked wary. “You think Fortune and Erika can beat PB and Greta in trivia?”
“They don’t have to,” I countered. “We will.”
“Luke, I hate this plan,” Erika whispered at the Arena that night. “Just vote for Jiamin and let her and PB battle it out.”
“We can’t guarantee she’ll beat him, and as long as PB’s here, we’re all at his mercy,” I replied. “Imogen and I are the best pick to take him out tonight.”
“Unless the trivia categories are English lit, childcare, and the NFL, I doubt that.” She held my gaze. “Luke, we said we’d be honest with each other. I can hold my own, and Fortune’s no idiot. Don’t put your game on the line to give me a pass I’m not asking for.”
“It’s the best thing for all our games,” I said, though Erika looked unconvinced.
She left me and passed by Shawn, who was brooding sulkily at craft services. He’d barely spoken since I’d told him our new plan. Rather than stir him up, I joined Imogen on our concrete platform right as PB sprinted over. I suppressed my disgust and resolved to play dumb.
“So you talked to Camdon?” he whispered. Imogen and I traded a stony glance but kept quiet as Zara called places.
“Okay, I’m sorry, I get it, I deserve the silent treatment, but you still need to vote for me. Nothing good happens if you try something reckless tonight.” With one last cryptic look, he departed, leaving me to wonder if he was ahead of us already, even then.
“We still doing this?” I asked Imogen, Ecklund hitting his mark.
“You took my lead last time. Besides, if we’re sprinting into open fire, at least it’s on our terms,” she replied, and my chest filled with pride. Me and Im, against the world.
Ecklund was already opining when I raised my hand. “Drew? We don’t need to vote tonight,” I announced. “Imogen and I are going in.”
Jiamin’s eyes darted to us, confused and pissed. While PB seemed equally livid, he remained unsurprised—unlike Troy, who almost tripped, rushing to Zara on the sidelines.
“So you and Imogen forfeit immunity?” Ecklund asked, and Troy flashed a vivid red. Clearly, this was not the narrative he was chasing today. “Okay, Imogen and Luke are eligible,” Ecklund declared with a shrug. “Y’all can vote for anyone.”
“No, there’s no vote,” I corrected. “We volunteer.”
“Sorry, Katniss, the first team has to be voted in, nonnegotiable.”
“Well, I vote for us!” I snapped, Imogen seconding me.
Melange echoed us, though Shawn just sullenly nodded. Ecklund insisted he vocalize it, prompting an explosion: “Yes, goddammit, Luke and Imogen!” The whole Arena jumped in shock, me most of all. Why was he so angry?
The disaster played out in slow motion. Jiamin and PB both voted for themselves, though a furious Greta and Aspen took shots at each other. Camdon and Tati predictably chose PB and Greta, and then we arrived at Erika and Fortune. I looked at her insistently. “Vote for us,” I mouthed.
She hesitated, eyeing Fortune, then finally announced, “I can’t ask Luke and Imogen to fight my battles. I vote Jiamin and Aspen.” Fortune followed suit, yielding a tie once again.
Incredulously I turned to Imogen, but she was at a loss. “We’ll target PB if he stays,” Imogen whispered apologetically, “But tonight’s not the night. This has gone south.” Before I could protest, she addressed Ecklund. “I’ll switch to Jiamin and Aspen. Let’s not drag this out.”
Jiamin nodded her thanks, sincerely grateful. “Drew, we’ll go against PB and Greta.”
I had no clue who to blame. All I knew was I could have made all this go away.
As if on cue, PB stalked by to get his helmet, eyes dead as a shark’s. He didn’t even dignify us with a glance. Not that I would have offered anything supportive if he had.
“Sole Mates” (a too-apt Trial name that Troy probably divined right before we arrived) bound each pair together at their ankles and tethered them to a crank with taut ropes, which provided resistance as they crawled through the gravel to the Arena’s center.
Only by answering one of Ecklund’s trivia questions correctly would they get more slack in their rope to advance.
Whoever made it to the center first would strike a red detonator, eliminating the other team.
Once the horn sounded, PB and Greta hauled themselves through the rocks, answering every question correctly.
All the trivia was about the previous nineteen seasons of Endeavor, so this definitely would have been the worst Trial I could have gone into.
Meanwhile, Jiamin essentially refused to participate, gravel piling around her as Aspen bombed questions left and right.
Greta gassed out quickly but kept clawing alongside PB.
The sweat poured down his face as he advanced, not looking at Jiamin once. By contrast, her eyes never left him.
Even then, I didn’t believe it was the prospect of quitting that scared PB.
I think it was the loss of control, his agency blatantly ripped from his hands.
Hadn’t that been why Barnes lashed out at me after I proposed the divorce?
Now PB had to answer Jiamin’s ultimatum in front of the whole world, cutting out his heart for all to see.
For one last moment, despite everything I’d now witnessed, I still hoped PB might surprise me.
But his eyes bored into the gravel, and he slammed the button to win the Trial, his palm coursing toward the target as if it had been destined to go there all along.
PB crouched in the stones after the horn blared, hunched and panting.
Maybe he thought he’d get to say one last thing to her, some excuse or justification.
She didn’t give him the chance. Jiamin rose from the mound of stones that had accumulated around her and undid her mic pack.
She handed it to the nearest crew member and walked off the Endeavor set, never once looking back.
It was Troy who chased after her, pleading like a jilted lover, but her only response was two middle fingers on either side of her face.