Chapter 22 #2
Fitzy made a buzzer sound, so loud it made her jump.
“Wrong!” he declared. “The correct answer was me. I’m your favorite part of the show!” He mimed stabbing a knife into his heart. “You destroy me, Carter Kelly.”
Carter laughed, feeling electric. “You’re a close runner-up.”
“Aww. I’ll have to take it. How about your least favorite thing?”
The pressure. The doubts. The constant anxiety over whether or not she was meeting everyone’s expectations.
But Kick It Carter would never admit to any of that.
“I’m paranoid about having to do something physical. Mind puzzles, no problem. Shooting hoops to open a door? Not happening.”
“I guess you won’t be putting your hand up for the dexterity challenge.”
“No way.”
Alicia had crushed the dexterity challenge. Sierra might have believed her sister was cheating, but the maze, the obstacles, had been pure skill.
And Sierra’s other suspicions . . .
Alicia was seeing someone.
Maybe Carter could take advantage of this behind-the-scenes tour for more than just her followers.
Tucking a curl behind her ear, Carter turned back to Fitzy with a look she hoped was a lot more nonchalant than she felt. “Here’s one thing everyone wants to know. What’s the tea when it comes to offscreen romances?”
She heard the words come out of her mouth and regretted them instantly. She sounded like some sleazy gossip-rag reporter.
But Fitzy took it in stride, even as he literally strode down a hall full of construction workers and building supplies. “Well . . . obviously the contestants are teenagers. It’d be very inappropriate for the crew to—”
“You’re a teenager.”
He gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. “Yes. Um. But remember my contract? There’s a clause.” He swallowed hard. “Like a . . . I could get fired sort of clause.”
“Oh,” said Carter, surprised at how her stomach lurched. “That sounds intense.”
His smile turned wry. “It’s never been an issue. Lots of fish in the sea, and all that.” He didn’t look at Carter as he said it.
Motive, her mind whispered. If Fitzy had been dating Alicia, he didn’t want anyone to find out because he’d lose his job.
But—he’d been filming a livestream! There was no way it was Fitzy.
Right?
“Fitzy, Fitzy, Fitzy.”
Louis Augustus Russell sauntered down the hall, his gold suspenders shimmering. “Are you keeping Miss Kelly to yourself ?”
Panic spiked through Carter as Ranielle’s missive to leave the Game Master alone echoed in her brain.
Hastily turning her attention back to the camera lens, she stammered, “And that puts a wrap on the tour! Drop me a comment about what behind-the-scenes Escape Game content you want to see next!” She stopped the recording. “Oh, hey, Game Master.”
She tried to sound casual.
She failed.
“Carter,” he said. “You’re here early today.”
“Filming some content for the fans.” She waved the phone at him. “Don’t worry. Ranielle approved it. I promise.”
“She’s giving a studio tour,” said Fitzy. “I thought I’d show her around.”
“How generous of you,” said Louis, but his gaze stayed fixed on Carter. “Ranielle told me about what happened the other night. It’s a relief you’re all right.”
Carter forced a smile. “Thanks. We’re fine. Just . . . shook up a bit.”
Fitzy cast his attention between the two of them. “What happened the other night?”
Louis opened his mouth, but Carter jumped in first, “One of the other contestants thought it would be funny to lock my team in the cafeteria’s industrial freezer.” She laughed, trying to play it off like no big deal. “A prank.”
“What? Is everyone okay?”
She waved away his worries. The last thing she wanted was for
Fitzy to think she was a whiner. “We weren’t in there for long.” Fitzy’s face was still creased with concern. “Do they know who it was?”
“Not yet. But we have our suspicions.”
Understanding darkened Fitzy’s eyes. “I can make a few guesses myself.”
“The security company is looking into it,” said Louis. “But we’re relieved no one was seriously hurt. And now, I do believe it’s time to get into wardrobe.” He sent a lopsided smile toward Carter. “You don’t mind if I steal our host away, do you?”
“No, of course not. My team should be here soon. I think I need to start getting ready, too.”
“Wait, wait,” said Fitzy, snapping his fingers. “Carter, you never got that exclusive Game Master interview.”
She tensed. “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have tried to—”
“No, Fitzy’s right,” said Louis. “You’re a great asset this season. I don’t know what my wife’s problem is. Let me see your phone.”
She handed it to him uncertainly. Louis created a new contact for himself. Under the Company tab, he added, Game Master.
Then he entered his number.
Carter gaped. “Is this . . . your direct line?”
He chuckled as he handed it back. “Whenever you want that interview, send me a message. It’s the least I can do.”
“Um. Sure. Okay. Thanks?” She couldn’t help being a little thrilled, but also confused. Wouldn’t an email have been better?
Sierra’s dire warnings echoed in her head, but she dismissed them. Of all the people on this show, Louis was least likely to be the murderer. The love and attention to detail he put into his escape rooms proved how deeply he cared for the game, and the contestants.
Which reminded her—
“Actually . . . Game Master,” she said, as he started to turn away. “Can I ask a question now? Off the record.”
“That depends on your question,” said Louis, though he’d noticeably preened when she called him Game Master.
“I was wondering about something in the fortune teller room. The, um . . . the horoscope pictures. We were surprised by Tenth-Third-F-U. Was there a meaning behind that? A message you were trying to send to somebody?”
Louis’s broad smile faded at the same time Fitzy gave a low whistle and said, “See? I told you you’d have to watch for this one.”
“Yes, our Solve Specialist,” said Louis, his assured expression returning. “You know me, Carter. I like to mix things up. Keep contestants on their toes. I never want anyone saying that our clues have gotten . . . predictable. Why don’t you—”
He was interrupted by a high-pitched, saccharine voice. “Oh, Mr. Game Master?”
A woman strode toward them in clacking heels. She looked vaguely familiar, but Carter couldn’t place her.
“Holy hell,” Fitzy muttered under his breath. “What’s she doing here?”
Louis didn’t smile as he stepped forward. “Symphony. Can I help you?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “I’m here to talk to your wife.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“Am I supposed to make an appointment now? After everything I’ve done for this show?”
A muscle flexed in Louis’s jaw. “Of course not. But Ranielle is very busy.”
“Never too busy for me, I’m sure.” Her gaze slid past Louis to
Carter. She scanned her from head to foot and gave a slight scoff.
Carter immediately felt as small as a snail. But then an arm was around her. Fitzy squeezed her to his side while reaching his other hand toward the woman. “Don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Fitzy.”
Symphony didn’t take the outstretched hand. “Enchanted,” she said, before turning to Louis. “Shall we?”
As Louis led the way toward the producer’s office, Fitzy let his hand drop with a bemused chuckle. “What a piece of work.”
“Who is she?” asked Carter, noting that Fitzy’s arm was still around her.
“Symphony Parvesh. Used to be an A-lister. Now she’s the face of some fitness lifestyle brand.”
“Right,” said Carter. “That’s where I’ve seen her. Hawking those god-awful shakes.”
“That’s the one. Course, she’s also Adi’s mum.”
Her eyes bugged. “My Adi? Er—my team’s Adi?”
“He hasn’t mentioned his famous parentage?” His dimples flashed, though his smile was rueful. “Can’t say I blame him.”
“Wow. I’m beginning to feel guilty for having normal, boring parents.”
Fitzy gave a pained look that made Carter feel like she’d said something wrong.
Crap. She hadn’t even thought about what his childhood might have been like.
“Except Beck!” she said quickly, in an effort to cover up whatever faux pas she’d just made.
“Beck?” said Fitzy, apparently grateful for the subject change.
“Yeah. We haven’t discussed it at length, but he seems relatively well-adjusted. No way he has any secret family drama.” She laughed nervously. “No way at all.”