Chapter 12
Cam drives a little further on and then turns off the road at a sign for a nature park. We bump along for a few miles until the track opens up on to a dusty car park and a hut with a small window and a tired-looking fella sitting up, but quite asleep, behind it.
We jump out and Cam opens the boot. He drags out a big camera and a tripod. ‘Hold this please,’ he says. ‘And this.’
Soon we are paying ten dollars entry and are essentially walking into a jungle. My stress levels are climbing. The light is fading. It will get dark soon.
‘Do you know where we are going? What if we get lost? Do you have a phone signal? A first aid kit? Who else knows we are here? Do you have your mobile tracker on? These clothes still smell like fresh kebab meat. Am I going to get my tits ripped off by a pack of rabid hyenas?’
‘For a start, hyenas live in Africa.’ Cam stops to look at me.
I instantly stop panicking at his calm, soothing tone.
‘Huh. Not much of a risk-taker, are you?’
I shake my head. ‘I struggle a little bit with change… and with anything that’s not organised with military precision.’ This is a gross understatement. ‘And… surprises.’
He jokily rolls his eyes. ‘Well, don’t worry. I have you covered. Trust me. Look, it’s just up ahead.’
He has such a reassuring manner that it puts me at ease straight away. Two minutes later we come to a clearing.
The scene takes my breath away as I sweep my gaze upwards. ‘We’ve stepped into paradise,’ I whisper. Exotic birds are swooping through the air, monkeys are swinging through trees, all manner of creatures are scampering around. ‘Have we just walked into a Disney film?’
Cam laughs quietly and sets up the tripod, fixing the camera deftly on top. ‘I produce nature documentaries by trade. You kinda hit the nail on the head back there with your silverback assumptions.’
I nod in understanding.
‘I don’t usually bring anyone here. It’s my special place.’
My heart flutters at his confession, but I try not to read anything into it.
‘Documenting wildlife, especially those close to extinction, is my absolute passion. Filming anything else seems meaningless,’ he says, twisting the giant lens and swinging the camera round.
‘I’d love to film in the UK someday. Man, you have some spectacular scenery and wildlife.
But you just gotta take what work’s offered, you know? Even if you don’t enjoy it.’
‘I totally get that,’ I say. When my mother died, so did my zest for life, my ambition, my passion. Everything seemed meaningless afterwards, so I allowed myself to drift, doing crappy supply jobs for hardly any money, and even less respect, while I took time to figure out how to cope.
While Cam has his head down, peering through the camera and twiddling with buttons, he starts speaking to me in hushed tones.
‘I filmed here once. In this exact spot. In fact, it was while I was here on location that Megan and Pete first hooked up behind my back.’
Oh. This must be hard for him. He keeps his face hidden behind the camera. Just because he’s comfortable and trusting enough to confide in me and because I’m incredibly easy to talk to, doesn’t mean he has romantic feelings for me. I try not to let my hopes soar.
‘Must have been so tough to lose both your best friend and your girlfriend at the same time,’ I say quietly. ‘That’s why you don’t mind being away from home so long.’
A comfortable silence settles between us and for the next hour we simply watch the jungle come alive in all its glorious technicolour. When we pack up and trek back to the car, Cam says, ‘Thank you, Libby. That meant a lot.’
One look into his kind, sad eyes and my heart melts for him. I reach out to take his hand lightly. ‘It’s okay to still be sad.’
He clears his throat, dropping my hand. ‘We’d best hurry. Porscha will be calling soon. I’ll need to be at my desk, or she’ll get suspicious.’
‘You could tell her to back off.’
He gives me a tiny half-smile as we set off, navigating the difficult compacted terrain in partial light.
‘Yeah. She’s been after me for a while. It’s kinda difficult because, well, for one she’s my boss, and two…’
‘You’re not interested? She’s not your type? Too bossy? Too scary? Too in-your-face?’
‘I was going to say I never mix business with pleasure.’
My chances with this glorious man are plummeting by the second.
‘I could tell by your body language,’ I say, ignoring this devastating blow. ‘Usually, if a woman muscles her way into your trailer under false pretences, twirls her hair and gives you a year’s supply of condoms, you’d do more than hurry away at the speed of light.’
Cam chortles. ‘Was it that obvious?’
‘For your sake, I hope she’s not one of those women who loves the chase. From what I hear, she always gets what she wants.’
‘Are you sure you’re a schoolteacher and not some spy from a rival TV channel? You seem to know an awful lot about things.’
‘I am a teacher therefore I gossip.’
‘Did you just coin a new phrase?’ Cam looks at me and waggles his eyebrows.
It’s almost like he is flirting with me.
‘How do you fancy continuing this over dinner?’ he says.
He is. He’s flirting with me.
A bubble of joy rises from my chest. I must try to play it cool whilst also letting him know that I am very, very available. ‘Sure. I’d love to.’
‘As a teacher, I’d appreciate your take on using documentaries to drive home the need to save the planet in schools. Is it a mandatory part of the national curriculum over there? How about the rest of Europe?’
I have never been so disappointed.
He is clearly only after one thing. My brain. Just then Cam’s phone bursts into life. He presses the button on the dashboard to Bluetooth the call. It’s Porscha. Cam slides his gaze to me and raises a finger to his lips.
‘Cam, honey. Thanks for dropping my walkie-talkie off. If I’d known, I would’ve made sure I was in the office to receive it personally. How did it go at the main villa? All sorted?’
Honey?
‘Yes. All sorted. Just on my way back to the holding villa now.’
‘Shame. I thought we could get together tonight. To go over the… schedules. Give them a thorough going-over to make sure we haven’t missed anything.’
She is making it sound filthy.
‘That’s okay,’ Cam says quickly. He has obviously detected an ulterior motive. ‘They’re all done and checked.’ He gives me a grateful look.
‘Are they?’ She sounds dissatisfied. ‘Okay. Well, how about you head back to base for a debriefing? It’s a while since anyone debriefed me.’
This too sounds like pure filth. I wonder again about that mountain of condoms she gave him. Is she hoping to test them all individually? That’s quite the quality check.
‘I would but I’m chaperoning our British contestant. CHAP 3 went down with a stomach bug, remember? So, I’m standing in until we find a replacement.’
‘Not a problem. I’ll send Jake over to keep her company. He’s losing three of his contestants tomorrow anyway when they go in the villa. I’ll text him now. Which villa are you staying in? Is it Yucatán twelve?’
I gulp, suddenly feeling distraught at losing Cam so soon. Just as we are starting to get to know each other.
He shoots me a look. ‘Er, no, Porscha. Thanks, but it’s fine. I have all my equipment set up ready to do the music sound bites. I’m gonna be working all night. So, no need to send Jake. We’ll work something out tomorrow.’
There’s a silence before she tuts loudly down the phone. Porscha does not sound happy.
‘Fine,’ she says tightly. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then.’
Cam clicks off the call and exhales. ‘Looks like I’ve escaped for another night at least.’
My heart does a little flip. I’m sure he only wants to stay with me to escape Porscha, but a tiny part of me hopes otherwise…
* * *
Three hours later we have feasted on goat’s cheese and crispy bacon salad and have sung our way through most of tomorrow’s playlist. Apparently, they overlay music to all the key scenes.
There are slow tracks for when contestants are having heart-to-hearts.
Fast tracks for when they have beef. Suspenseful music to add to the dramatic firepit scenes when couplings and conscious uncouplings (yes, Gwyneth and Chris, I’m looking at you) occur and contestants have to look shocked.
‘Top up?’ I ask, wandering over to the table to pour more wine into Cam’s glass.
I’m a terrible influence on him. I lean over him, making sure not to knock any of the screens, cables and the mini mixing desk laid out.
He has been working away diligently while I’ve been singing along from the sofa.
‘I love that you have all these famous songs slowed down or speeded up just to fit each scenario. The being dumped clip is a howler!’ I giggle.
‘What do you mean?’ Cam says, looking up.
‘Oh, come on.’ I put my drink down so that it doesn’t slosh over the sides.
I sing Gloria Gaynor at the top of my lungs.
‘While the poor sod does the walk of shame out of the actual villa door.’ I’m laughing hard at the very thought of it.
‘Imagine? If it’s not humiliating enough, you’ve got throwing out music to see you on your way. ’
‘I know. We’re awful people.’
We lock eyes.
‘Would you feel emotionally able to handle the show? Given your motivations for flying all the way over here just to make some guy jealous?’
‘Correction. To win a hundred thousand dollars and to give my sister and her fiancé some space,’ I reason. ‘I’m not completely insane. Today has been the best day of my entire life but I’d hate to get you into any trouble.’
‘Wow. You’d give up the chance to win one hundred thousand dollars just so I don’t get into trouble?’
I nod slowly. ‘Well, when you put it like that… I do sound insane.’
Suddenly I’m aware of the music changing to a slow romantic tune. I sip my wine to keep me from staring into those soulful eyes of his. Each sip feels laced with a frisson of something illicit. The atmosphere crackles between us. He picks his wine glass up and necks it.
‘You are a terrible corrupting influence,’ he says.
‘Wait until you see me dance,’ I say, beginning to sway sexily for him.
I’m three glasses deep and quite sure beyond a shadow of doubt that it is anything but sexy.
But who cares? Fortune favours the brave.
I may never see him again after tonight.
He might go back to the production village, and I might get sent home.
The new me won’t even have had her moment to shine.
‘Dance with me.’ I hold my breath while he visibly decides whether this is a good idea.
He is staring at me. Now he is looking at my lips.
He is putting down his drink and leaning towards me.
It’s happening in slow motion, but I think I’m moving closer to him.
He takes my drink from me and finishes it in one go.
I really shouldn’t but I find his new tolerance for alcohol immensely sexy.
He reaches out to take my waist and I step closer.
We start to move in time to the music. At first tentatively but then, my God, can he move.
We are pressed up against each other, my arms round his neck, and we are swaying in perfect time with one another.
His scent is intoxicating, fresh and lemony.
His eyes have not left my face. My heart is thumping through my chest as his hands move lightly over my back.
I think he might kiss me. I bite my lip slowly and hear a low groan escape from him.
‘You shouldn’t look at me like that,’ he whispers.
Yes, I bloody should.
I ease my head back to peer up at him from below my eyelashes, willing him with every fibre in my being to kiss me.
I run my hand lightly through his hair. It’s soft and silky just as I imagined.
I trail my hand down his neck and trace the outline of his firm shoulders.
I feel his bicep tense under my touch. When I see him gulp, I’m pretty sure I have him under my spell.
The sensual beat of the music is enhancing the mood, causing us to keep time.
Cam’s hands press firmly on my back, bringing me in even closer as we sway to the rhythm.
He leans down towards me, our foreheads almost touching, his ragged breath light on my face.
The energy between us is electrifying. My heartbeat is terrifyingly fast, and my mind is spinning out of control with lustful thoughts for this man.
‘Kiss me,’ I whisper. Our lips are millimetres apart.
Before he can act on my instruction, the beat of the music changes suddenly. It’s almost as though it snaps him out of the trance.
The tempo thumps through our bodies, demanding we keep pace.
In one swift move he keeps one arm wrapped around me, takes my hand from his neck and twirls me slowly away from him Latino-style.
He then pulls me back in and up close before we engage in what can only be described as having sex while dancing fully clothed.
IT. IS. THE. MOST. EROTIC. EXPERIENCE. OF. MY. LIFE.
The music ends and we stare, panting and breathless, at one another. The sexual energy in the room is off the charts. I shouldn’t have to ask twice for him to kiss me… but I will if he doesn’t make a move soon.
It feels like ten of the world’s slowest seconds crawl by and still no lip action.
‘Goodnight then,’ he says.
It takes a long moment for his words to sink in.
‘Goodnight?’
He nods slowly with an almost pained expression.
‘Goodnight as in you’re off to bed?’ I really need some clarification.
‘Yeah, erm, big day tomorrow and you know, erm…’ he says, running a hand through his hair and blinking his eyes as though to shake himself out of a daze.
No, I certainly do not know.
I must look distraught.
‘I’m sorry, Libby. Even though I find you incredibly attractive. Unbelievably attractive,’ he says. ‘I can’t get involved.’
‘Oh,’ I say, trying not to look or sound tearful as he hurries back to his laptops to put some distance between us.
He turns the music off with a noisy clang. The romantic atmosphere has been well and truly burst like a balloon. Almost as if he has suddenly remembered that he does not mix business with pleasure after all.