Losing to Win

Dessert items were far more innocent conversation

“Wha—?” Niecy grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway at a near sprint.

“Okay, but slow down; you know that peppy, sadistic Darcy kicked my ass on those squats today and my entire body is screaming.” What I wouldn’t give for a spa day and mountain of chocolate right now. Oooo, yes: spa, chocolate, shrimp scampi, and champagne! Champagne sipped off of Malachi’s abs, which were coming back to definition in fine form. Mine were still missing in action. I snapped back to the moment at hand as Niecy yanked me into a janitor’s closet just down the hall from the confessional.

“I need to talk to you before you go in there,” Niecy whispered urgently.

“Well, all right, then.” I snatched my hand back before she tore my whole arm from the socket. “Why are you whispering?”

“I wouldn’t put it past these people to have bugged the mops and brooms up and through here. Ever since they caught Suzette ‘reuniting’ with her husband in the indoor sauna? I’ve been extra paranoid.”

The Losing to Win staff were doing the utmost to catch us in ratings-worthy compromising positions. It was a daily chess match between the crew and the contestants. Suzette’s husband had come down to visit for the holiday, and instead of staying behind closed doors, they decide to “celebrate” all over Belle Haven. The cameras were rolling the minute they set foot on Havenwood’s campus. Why she thought it was a good idea to get naked with her husband in the sauna we used every day was beyond me. The cameras captured that hot mess of a hookup using that eerie green night-vision lighting. Not flattering. I almost felt sorry for Suzette. Right until she had the nerve to go on camera with some story about me trying to steal her man for the last fifteen years. Like really? Jerome Allendale hadn’t aged any better than Suzette, and even back in his cute days, he had the personality of a wet walrus stranded on dry land.

But back to Niecy. “Um, is that why you have Meshach climbing up the emergency staircase like Spiderman damn near every night?”

She gasped. “You know about that?”

Six people living within thirty feet of each other had very few secrets. “He climbs into Malachi’s room, which is attached to mine, girl.”

“Oh,” she said, chagrined.

“What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Well, along this same subject . . . so you’re doing Malachi again, right?”

Like I said: few secrets. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—can you put it another way?”

“Sorry, Prom Queen. Are you engaged in sexual congress for the purpose of mutual orgasm with Malachi once again?” she singsonged in a teasing voice.

I elbowed her in the side. “Fine, smartass. Yes, I’m doing Malachi. Why?”

“How are you doing it?”

Blinking twice, I had to clarify. “I beg your pardon; do you want an instructional video? PowerPoint slides? An illustrated manual? Kama Sutra checklist? What are you asking me?”

She smacked my arm. “No, silly. I mean, the producers suspect, but as far as I can tell, they don’t have you guys on film or microphone yet. So where and how are you getting it on so that it’s not ‘film at eleven?’”

“Oh, you mean how logistically.” She’d worried me there for a minute.

“Yes, fool.”

I snickered. “Okay, because I was like—damn, girl, I know it’s been a while for you, but it really is like riding a bike. Once you hop back on, it comes to you.”

“Oh. My. Damn. Can you just answer the question so we never have to talk about this again?”

“You brought it up,” I reminded her. “Bathrooms, dressing rooms, and locker rooms are no mic/no camera zones. It was in the fine print of the contract. The only thing is, stay clear of the door and play some music or run some water because they’ve been known to stand outside the door with the mic.”

She slapped her hands on her hips. “Seriously?”

“Girl, seriously.”

“This is some bullshit.”

“I told you. Also, if you can sneak off campus, Sugar’s bed-and-breakfast is all clear if you’re not down in the lobby. Our houses aren’t wired, but there’s no way someone wouldn’t notice both of us going into one of those homes, so . . . we’ve had to get creative.”

“Or you could just stop until filming is over,” she suggested.

A look of pure horror crossed my face. “Girl, what? I’m starving. I’m wearing spandex on camera. I’m sweaty 80 percent of the day and my hair is a frizzy hot mess. They filmed me having high tea with my mother yesterday, for Christ’s sake! You think I’m giving up the only guilty pleasure this long-assed summer affords me?”

“That good, huh?” She slid me a look.

“Oh, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Carissa, throw me a bone here.”

“You know how Julie Andrews stands and twirls on the mountaintop singing about the hills being alive with the sound of music.”

“Yes.”

“Better than that. My entire body is alive with multiple orgasms.”

“Whew!” She fanned herself. “I suspected he had some moves.”

“He’s got moves on top of moves. On top of some more moves after that. It might run in the family, girl. You might wanna get on that Knight train.”

A blush crept up her cheeks. “It couldn’t be worse timing, but he is such a nice guy. You’ve known him forever; what can you tell me?”

“Let me say this. If I had any choice in the matter, I would’ve fallen for Meshach instead of Mal. If Mal is the bad boy who done good, then Meshach is the good guy who always wants to do better. He’s just that rare combination of Southern gentleman, good looks, sweet personality, and something else I can’t define.”

“Hotness?” Niecy supplied.

I laughed. “Okay. Anyway, there’s not a mean bone is his body, but he is apparently a shark in the courtroom.”

“I might have to send Jordy to Sugar’s for the night and sneak Meshach in. Jordy could use a night out anyway; I think you broke the boy’s heart.”

I sighed. “I’m actually pretty torn about that. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I’m having a hell of a time with Mal. But he’s already proven that he’s not a forever kind of guy, you know? Jordan has me intrigued. He really shook me up with that kiss. He’s got some skills, girl. He surprised the hell out of me. The thing is, he’s the kind of guy who sticks, through thick and thin. Mal—well, he didn’t stick so well, now did he?”

Niecy shook her head at me. “You truly believe you’re with Mal just for the sex?”

“I’m not with Mal. I’m having sex with Mal. Period.”

“But you could see yourself with Jordy long term.”

“I think I could. I definitely owe myself the opportunity to find out.”

“You should tell him that.”

“Who?”

“Jordy.”

“I should tell Man B to please wait for me to finish sexing down Man A because I think maybe somehow we can have something real?”

She covered her mouth with her hand and snickered. “Find a better way to say it.”

“Ri-ight. I’ll get right on that. When are you giving Meshach the cookies?”

“Girl, cookies?”

“What, we’re too grown to say cookies? Cupcakes? When are you serving Mr. Knight your special cupcakes?”

She expelled a deep breath. “As soon as I can find a plate to serve them up on.”

A knock came at the door and we both jumped. Yes, we had forgotten we were hiding out in the janitor’s closet.

“Um. Yes?” I asked tentatively.

“Are you two talking about dessert?” Marcy’s voice came through the door.

Niecy and I exchanged glances and nodded. Dessert items were far more innocent conversation. Sure, let them think we were talking about sugary treats.

“We miss cupcakes. Well, one of us does,” Niecy answered with a giggle.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the confessional, Carissa?”

With a muffled sigh, I reached for the door and yanked it open. I looked back at Niecy. “I’m heading to the confessional, then I’m shooting promos. No time like the present, girlie. You hear what I’m saying?” This was my clever way of telling Niecy that most of the production staff would be with me for a while if she needed to sneak out to see a certain Knight brother.

“Bless you and good luck in there!” She grinned at me.

I had become a pro at the confessional. I gave cutesy answers that didn’t reveal too much but made great sound bites. I bitched semi-good-naturedly about the workouts and the strict diet. I made sure to mention local businesses and talk up the town and then I wrapped it up. The show was using me, I was using them. I should have suspected that they would up the stakes of the game the minute I thought I had it conquered. But I didn’t suspect because I’m just not that damn devious. So I was not prepared when I walked into the confessional and found Jordy already seated there. He looked up and a brilliant smile crossed his handsome features. “Hey, girl.”

I smiled back. “Hey yourself, good looking.” I couldn’t help flirting a little. He was looking good. Though he hadn’t shed a lot of pounds, he had flattened a lot of that belly and replaced fat with muscle. His face had started to chisel out around his jaw. If Mal was starting to look like a combination of a muscular Idris/Denzel, Jordan was starting to look like a Boris Kodjoe/Shemar Moore combination. I slid onto the sofa next to him. I glanced at the cameras before meeting Jordan’s eyes. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“The pleasure’s entirely mine.” Jordan put his arm around me for a quick squeeze before we settled in to await whatever the production team had up their sleeve this time.

“We thought we’d shake things up a bit, mix up contestants in the confessional,” Marcy announced from behind the lights. “You ready to get started?”

“Sure.” I shrugged, anticipating some hot mess.

“Jordan, you and Carissa shared a kind of heated moment a few weeks back. Where does your relationship stand today?”

You would think I would be used to it by now, but I wasn’t. I just never got comfortable with people being all up in my business and thinking it was okay. These folks were just gangsta. There was nothing sacred here. You couldn’t show them the slightest bit of weakness or scandal because they would exploit the hell out of it for all the world (or the reality TV–watching public) to see. After seeing how they took comments out of context and spliced scenes together to make them look like something they weren’t, we had all learned to be extra cautious.

Jordan reached over and squeezed my hand. “Carissa and I have been friends for years and we continue to be.”

“But don’t you want more?”

“I think the important thing is that Carissa and I know where we stand with each other and we’re okay with it.”

“Are you okay with it, Jordy?” she pressed.

“I’m not a child. If I want something, when I want something, I’ll ask for it,” Jordan answered with some steel in his voice.

“Carissa, how does Mal react to the closeness you have with Jordan?”

I was tempted to say “none of your damn business” or “how Mal reacts is not my concern,” but I knew that would only add fuel to the fire. So I smirked and said, “You really have to ask Mal how he feels about things. I wouldn’t dare speak for him.”

Sensing that was as far as they could take it, Marcy switched gears and started asking us about the competition and how we were feeling. We gave our customary wow-this-is-hard-but-sure-gonna-be-worth-it-in-the-end answers and they cut us loose.

Jordan and I escaped into the hallway and walked silently to the elevator. “Can we talk a minute?” he asked as the doors slid open. He gestured for me to enter ahead of him. Stepping inside, he leaned next to me against the side wall and pushed the button for the first floor.

“Not here.” I shook my head and gestured toward the camera.

He tilted his head down near my ear and spoke quietly. “Should I not stand so close?”

I didn’t want to play games with him, but I didn’t want to discourage him either. I liked Jordan and was genuinely interested in him. But the timing was terrible. I’d just started something back up with Mal. Yes, it was super-incredible sex, but I’d be lying to myself if I said that’s all it was. Not with our history. When it ended this time, and I was sure it would end, I wasn’t going to be broken with nowhere to land. If that made me selfish, so be it, but I was going to play it straight all the way around and let the chips fall where they may. I looked up at him through my lashes. “Who’s pushing you away?”

“Rissa, am I in danger of getting my ass kicked here?”

“For talking to me?”

His voice went low and sultry. “You know I want to do more than talk to you, Carissa.”

I flicked a glance at the cameras and inched a little closer. “I know. The interest is mutual. I’m not averse to the idea of exploring our affiliation further. But the timing . . .”

“I’m always one step behind that damn Malachi, aren’t I?”

I reached out to stroke his arm. “It’s not about him.”

“C’mon, now,” he chided.

“Okay, not all about him. Will you do something for me if I ask?”

“Just about anything.”

“Give me a little time.”

The elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened, but neither of us stepped off. He turned toward me, bracketing his arms on either side of me. “I’m sorry, are you asking me to wait on the sidelines while you sweat Malachi out of your system, and be okay with that?”

I winced. “It sounds bad when you put it like that.”

“I’ll tell you what. Your boy’s tryout is in August, right?”

Apparently everyone knew of Malachi’s aspirations. I nodded. “Yes.”

“You’ve got until the day after his tryout and then I’m coming for you. I’ll only ask once. If you say no, I finish the show, head back to Georgia, and I’ll send you a holiday card on Facebook once a year. But if you say yes, you have to be all in. No more me or him, no more waiting, all in. Agreed?”

I nodded. “Agreed.” We stepped out of the elevator, through the lobby, and out into the courtyard. People were milling around waiting to film some promos, so we paused far enough away that no one could hear the conversation.

“This would be easier if you just tell me now that you’re not interested.”

When had my life become this complicated? Here I was twenty feet away from the guy I was sleeping with and flirting with a different guy. No wonder the audience was feeling me. My life was turning into a soap opera. “I could tell you that, but it would be a lie. I am interested and you know what else?”

He let out a breath. “What else?”

“I’m so totally worth it.” I grinned at him.

“Good thing because we’re starting to attract attention and the Bayou Blue Streak is about two seconds from sacking me in the end zone.”

I snickered. “He plays offense, Jordy. He doesn’t tackle people.”

“Does he know that?”

Over his shoulder, I saw Mal stalking toward us with quite the look on his face. I sighed. “I’ll save you.”

I stepped away from Jordan and headed straight to Mal. “Don’t start something and I’ll make it worth your while later.”

He glowered at Jordan over my shoulder. Jordan strolled down the sidewalk with a grin on his face. “He’s pushing his luck,” Mal said.

“He’s pushing your buttons.”

“As long as he’s not pushing your buttons.”

Not yet, I thought. “Mal, stop grimacing. I’m sure they are filming the hell out of this.”

His chocolate eyes cut to mine and he raised a brow. “You’re going to make it worth my while? How?”

These men were wearing me out. Was it only two months ago that I was man free, drama free, and camera-in-my-face free? Then again, in the past sixty days I’d become thinner, less in debt, better “maintained,” and more my true self than I had been in years. I stood up on my tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “Let’s play let’s remember.”

He looked around as if considering the quickest how and where to get us naked. “Here? Now?”

“We’ll keep our clothes on. You remember that trip to the Pro Bowl when we got lost driving back from the shrimp shack on the North Shore?”

“Um-hmm.”

“That thing we did on the abandoned beach as the sun went down?”

His nostrils flared and he shifted toward me. “I remember.”

“If we get through these promos without any drama, I’ll do that thing again. Tonight.”

He sucked in a breath. “What?! For real, though?”

“For real, though.”

He stepped away and clapped his hands together. “People, can we do this? I’m ready for my closeup.”

Jerry raised the camera onto his shoulder. “Someone’s in a hurry all of a sudden. You got a date tonight, Bayou?”

“You wish you knew.” Malachi grinned and stepped to his mark to start filming.

I saw Jordan smiling and chatting with XJ by the production staff. He slid me a private look before turning away. But not so private that Malachi missed it. He frowned slightly and then gave a small shrug as if deciding it wasn’t worth his time to make an issue of it right now.

I exhaled a ragged breath. One way or another, things were heating up around here. I just had to survive the summer and then everything could go back to normal. Whatever that was going to look like. For the first time in forever, I had no idea what the next few months of my life were going to look like. Even weirder: I was almost okay with it.

“Carissa, you ready? You’re going to be on camera one.” Ren pointed and held up some cue cards.

“Ready!” I called out and turned toward the camera with a smile.