Season 20, Episode 11 “… And Start Getting Real”
“… And Start Getting Real”
I glared at Fortune across our cramped knees, amazed the helicopter was airborne with us both onboard. “So what did Barnes promise you?”
“Nothing,” Fortune answered. “He hired me.”
“Fortune’s officially my bodyguard now. We drafted our agreement at the hospital when Shawn gave me my shiner,” Barnes said, unzipping his thick jacket.
Fortune shrugged. “It’s a good deal.”
“Yeah, I’d say half of whatever I win is pretty damn good,” Barnes muttered.
“I need to up my rates,” Greta tutted from her seat beside me, our escort on the chopper.
I inhaled, trying to focus, retracing the labyrinth of excuses Barnes had made since arriving.
He’d alluded to needing money for other lawsuits, which meant funds were coming from elsewhere if he’d share winnings with Fortune.
“So this isn’t about the cash, is it?” I asked, remembering PB’s deal.
“You care who gets the title, that’s why you’ve been hell-bent on me winning.
Barnes, tell me what deal you made, or I’ll quit right now. ”
“Don’t bluff,” Barnes replied. “You’re not good at it.”
“He’s gotten better,” Greta said under her breath.
“See, this is why we’ll never get back together,” I pressed, shifting my tactic. “You’ll never trust me enough not to manipulate me.”
“I trust you more than anyone—”
“Then prove it. Otherwise, what’s the point of whatever stunt you’re pulling?”
He grimaced, debating my words. “They offered me a new show. Of my own.”
“Of course they did,” I sneered. “Let me guess, Troy would have been showrunner?”
Greta eyed me, almost proud. “I told you he’s gotten better.”
“It was $2.5 million for one season, straight-to-series. It didn’t matter if I lost Endeavor,” Barnes explained tersely. “As long as you won.”
“So your whole reconciliation act—”
“I meant every word.”
“You literally just admitted you’re here to greenlight a TV show.”
“Those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive, Luke. I can want my husband back and provide for our family too,” he said, leaning forward.
“Did you tell Troy that?”
“Troy was a pawn, and I’d have ditched him once the ink was dry. Besides, using him backfired plenty. Thanks to his little machinations, the network altered my deal.” He stalled, eyes suddenly so sad. “You’ll never believe anything I say after this…”
“This is the last straw?” I asked skeptically.
“I have to win alongside you now. Even then, I’ll only get $50,000 for the new show.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t walk from that deal.”
“If I did, they’d sue me for fraud.”
“And what? This show kicks off the big redemption era? Who’d even watch it?”
Barnes sighed. “The network knows I’m overexposed. That’s why they lowered their financial risk, but they’ll honor the original $2.5 million deal… if you do the show with me.”
I burst out laughing, what Zara had tried to hint at now crystal clear.
“Luke, the network’s gone crazy for the dailies they’ve seen of you all season, how vulnerable you’ve been. They even loved the confession to Erika. Troy lied about burying it to fuck with you. They’re going to pitch you multiple opportunities when—”
“I don’t want to be on TV after this.”
“It’s easy, steady money. We’re more valuable together. We always have been—”
“We are not together. Stop saying that word!’”
“We don’t have to be together,” he protested. “The show can be about me rebuilding my career while you start your new wonderful life. If all you want is to show up once an episode to tell me to fuck off, then do that! Just pop in with the kids—”
“You’ve lost your mind if you think you’re putting the kids on camera!”
“Do you realize how much money they’d make? A college fund three times over. Luke, you’d fully control when they filmed, and anyone you want can appear. Greta’s going to do it!”
“You aren’t actually participating in this?” I asked her.
“I mean, I’ll cameo.” She shrugged.
Barnes was lighting up now. “Think of the others! What happens when Imogen and Erika get too old to compete on Endeavor? Or if Melange finally gets fired from her inbred relatives’ shitshow?
You want to make things better with PB? Get him an appearance fee!
Luke, you could guarantee stability for all of them. Even Shawn…”
“Not everyone is as desperate as you. None of them would participate in this circus, and I’ve gotten all I need from reality TV. I’m done.”
“You haven’t gotten everything,” Greta interjected pointedly, and Barnes shot her a warning look. Somehow Greta Hendricksen was on my side, and she wasn’t wavering. “You think he’s exploiting you? Exploit him back… What do you want?”
I’d been a distracted disaster for weeks, but I instantly knew the answer. Still, was this the price to pay? Maybe not, but I’d never have more leverage than now. “Primary custody.”
“Luke—”
“You’ll keep seeing the kids on weekends.”
“Only weekends? You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t pretend you were going to give me better,” I fired back. “And no cameras when they’re with you. Ever.”
“I don’t care about the cameras. I care about seeing my children more than three days a week. The past two months of living like that’s been hell. Luke, how can you be so cold?”
“And I want an 80/20 split of your $2.5 million salary.”
“That’s not fair!”
“More than $50,000.”
He flinched, biting back a comment. “But you’ll do the show?”
“I will… in whichever location I choose.”
I couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed, but he nodded, extending a hand. “So we cross the finish line together today?”
I turned the sentence over in my head. And leapt. “Yes.”
“And you’ll play fair from here on out?”
“It’s the only way I know how to play.”
The helicopter shot across a sapphire bay ringed with forested cliffs, landing on a soft knoll by the shore.
Ecklund waited by a carved sign that read UNHOOK, and reluctantly Barnes unclipped me and Fortune.
“Well, this is quite the threesome,” Ecklund joked before catching my glare.
“Sorry, too soon. They’ll edit that out. ”
He pivoted nimbly. “Welcome to majestic Milford Sound and the final stage of your journey! Retrieve your last key, then follow the flames to the bridge that only you—and anyone tied to you—can cross.” He stepped aside, revealing the game. “And don’t trip…”
Individual tabletops hung waist-high before us, suspended from a canopy of rigging.
Atop each one were stacks of dominoes—devils on one side, angels on the other—that we’d assemble along a marked line to spell (what else) ENDEAVOR.
The last domino would trigger a switch, releasing our key for the gate ahead.
The rub was a tight grid of calf-high pipes welded to the tables underneath.
Knocking into any pipe would send the whole tabletop shuddering, ruining whatever progress had been made.
We began the painstaking process of spacing dominoes while avoiding the pipes beneath. Fortune soon forfeited, feet too blocky to dodge them, and even a hasty Barnes tripped the mechanism twice.
After about thirty agonizing minutes of methodically arranging my line, the distant whir of propeller blades announced the second helicopter, and Erika and Imogen emerged with Zara in tow. I was finishing the V of ENDEAVOR when the girls ran to the end of my table. “Perfect timing,” I exhaled.
“Luke, stay put,” Imogen advised, surveying the situation. “I’ll do the O while Erika does the R. We’ll clip to you after. Get back to the start so you can trigger it once we’re done.”
I gingerly navigated the pipes back and noticed Barnes frantically trying to finish his own setup. “Don’t forget your promise,” he warned, but I kept walking.
I got to the start right when Imogen signaled.
I prayed we wouldn’t have to reset these damn things.
My finger knocked that first domino, the pint-sized devils and angels cascading their cursive path.
I raced along the table, following the dominoes until the last one perilously tipped—and just grazed the switch.
My key dropped from a shelf suspended above the table.
Right as I reached for it, Fortune slammed me to the ground, shaking the table, dominoes flying.
“Where’s the key?!” Imogen shouted, combing through the wreckage.
“You can’t let him keep doing this!” Erika railed at Zara.
Barnes crowed next door as his own key released.
“Fortune, bring him over,” he called after opening his gate.
Fortune started pulling me across the stony ground, but I grabbed the pipe grid under my table.
After all, I’d proven in Alaska I knew how to stay put, and Erika and Imogen rushed to anchor me.
An irritated Barnes set his key on the table before latching my carabiner to the hook on his belt. “Luke, you promised.”
“Not without them.”
“I can’t afford that math,” he replied, grabbing my thigh to drag me too.
The struggle persisted, until Fortune finally paused. “Is he really worth it, boss? The prize money alone’s not a bad payday.”
Consideration briefly flashed across Barnes’ face, but I refused to even allow him that option.
I grabbed a nearby rock and rammed it into the hook on Barnes’ belt, crushing it until my carabiner was jammed against his belt, the hook so bent and contorted that the carabiner would never unclip now.
“Luke, what did you just do?” Barnes asked, dread in his voice.
“I promised we’d cross the finish line together, not that we’d be the first people doing it,” I replied blankly. “Where’s the lie?”
Fortune examined Barnes’ mangled belt and sighed. “You almost had it, boss.” He then grabbed Barnes’ key and turned to the already open gate. He marched through, slamming it and pocketing the key.
“Fortune, we had a deal!” Barnes cried in his wake, before furiously turning to me. “Do you realize what you just threw away? For the kids? For them too?” He gestured at Imogen and Erika. “I was going to take care of all of us.”
“Like hell you were,” Erika snapped.