I wasn’t listening. Not really. I was watching Brodie behind his shoulder, and the way he smoothed the corners of his mouth with his fingertips, the way the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was nervous about something.
About the vote? Or about confronting me after he’d ruined my chances because he knew he’d f**ked me in more ways than one?
“With the speeches out of the way…” Becky paused and turned back to us with a brilliant smile. “Let’s get the voting in, shall we?”
Two assistants rolled out a podium, and the spotlights changed, shining on the podium itself. There was a big feather pen sticking out of an inkpot, a stack of ballots, and to the right, a house-shaped mailbox to put the ballots in. The studio went dark, the only light on the podium itself.
“All right,” Becky said. “Let’s have our jury, one by one, go up and vote. Jurors get a chance to say their final piece to the last two contestants as they vote. Sunnie, you’re up first.”
The audience was silent as the celebutante headed to the podium. Sunnie picked up the pen and turned to face the camera. “Good game, you two. I just wanted to say congratulations to whoever wins.” She scribbled something down on her ballot, folded it neatly, and dropped it in the mailbox.
One by one, the others voted. Everyone said encouraging things, and I watched Brodie and Jendan’s faces. Both of them were smiling, but neither one looked visibly nervous. Me, though, I was a wreck. My palms were sweating, and I wanted to wipe them on my wispy dress, but I was worried about leaving wet streaks. So I fidgeted instead.
I was the last one called up to vote. I stood, smoothed my dress, and headed to the podium. Once up there, I was nearly blinded by the overhead lighting. Squinting, I glanced up at the direction of the TV screen, but the glare was so bright that I couldn’t see their faces. I’d thought long and hard about what I would say to the two guys there. A bitter speech? Lash out? Take the high road?
In the end, I went with simple. “Jendan, good luck. I’m glad we became friends. And to Brodie…” I paused, thinking. “You betrayed me and now you’re asking me to trust you. I guess we’ll see, huh?”
I picked up the ballot marked with my name in the corner, and wrote a name down before I had a chance to change my mind. I folded it carefully, paused, and then placed it into the house-shaped ballot box before I took my seat again.
“When we come back,” Becky intoned, “the results of our vote!”
The air felt cooler as I stepped out of the bright lighting, and I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead, sweating with anxiety. I was so nervous that I wanted to twitch right out of my chair. Did I make the right choice?
Minutes ticked past with agonizing slowness. My knee bounced with nerves, and I was unable to help my nervous fidgeting. It must have been pretty bad; Fido gave me an irritated look and scooted his chair a little further away from mine. It didn’t make me stop, though. I only twitched harder, and then I began to bite my nails.
The lighting in the studio changed, and I sucked in a breath.
“We’re back,” Becky said. She stepped to the podium and flipped open the top of the little house-shaped ballot box. “I’ll read the votes.”
I glanced at the screen showing the interior of the house. Neither Jendan nor Brodie were smiling now. Their gazes were intent on the screen, and I could see tension vibrating from both of them.
“The first vote is Sunnie’s.” Becky read, and then she opened the folded paper and displayed it to us. BRODIE had been written in curling letters. “One vote for Brodie.”
The audience cheered wildly.
“The next vote is Fido’s.” A pause, then a turn. JENDAN. “That’s one vote for Jendan, and one for Brodie.” More clapping punctuated the vote.
“The next vote is Jayme’s. Jayme has voted for…Brodie. That’s two for Brodie, one for Jendan.”
“The next vote is Marla’s. Marla has voted for…” A dramatic pause, and then a slow turn of the card. “Jendan. We’re at a tie. Two for Brodie, two for Jendan.”
I felt ill. My vote was going to be the deciding one. I tugged at my dress’s skirt, hoping it wouldn’t stick to me with the nervous sweat that was pouring off of my body.
“Last vote, and it’s from Kandis,” Becky said. How could her voice be so coolly monotone at a time like this? I was practically sliding off of my chair with nerves. Time slowed as she opened the folded vote.
“Brodie.” Becky smiled and held my vote into the air. “You’re our winner!”
The audience exploded into cheers.
I burst into tears. It was drowned out by the fact that everyone had leapt to their feet. I barely saw Brodie jump in the air—on screen—and throw a fist up in jubilation. The crowd went wild, and people were cheering and clapping and rushing forward. It was mad chaos as balloons and tickertape fell from above.
I just sat in my chair and wiped my eyes. Why was I crying? It was stupid, really. It wasn’t sadness or embarrassment as much as it was sheer relief. At least the game was over. I’d held up my end. Brodie had told me he loved me, and he asked me to trust him.
And even though my every instinct told me I was being played, I went along with that trust. I wanted to believe he was a better person than that.
So now, I was just waiting for him to show me that my trust in him was well-placed.
Brodie emerged from the house a moment later, and all spotlights went on him. He raised his hands in the air, grinning broadly, and was immediately tackled by several people—I noticed one was his sister Katy, who was bouncing up and down with excitement. It was mass chaos in the studio.
And still I sat in my chair, hoping and waiting for him to turn to me.
He scanned the room, squinting at the glare of the lighting and tickertape. My heart hammered in my chest as hope rose. Was he looking for me?
A second later, Becky Bradley went to his side, all smiles. “Let’s take a moment and talk with our winner,” she said. “Or do you need to get more hugging out of the way?”
He laughed, a dazed look on his face. “No, I’m good.”
I’m good.
Just like that, my hopes crumpled. I felt deflated, like a balloon left out in the sun for too long. I’d trusted and I’d gotten burned.
Brodie had just been playing me, after all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Do I feel like a winner? Not if Kandis doesn’t forgive me.” – Brodie Short, Finale
The celebratory party went on for hours, and I did my best to make it seem like I was genuinely happy. I chatted with the other House Guests who’d been voted off, did my after-show interviews, and tried to keep upbeat. Over and over, I was asked, “Why did you vote for Brodie? Why’d you give him the money even after he screwed you?”
And over and over, I replied simply, “He played the best game.”
He had, after all. He’d had me fooled even in the eleventh hour. He knew just what to say to ensure my vote. I couldn’t even be mad. Soul-crushingly disappointed? Yes. But mad? Not really.
There was a stupid, stupid part of me that was in love with Brodie Short. It didn’t matter that he’d used me and booted me out of the game. I was in love with him, and as a result, I wanted him to win.
I held it together for hours, and I waited, hopeful that I’d turn around and see Brodie waiting to talk to me. But every time I looked for him, he was sitting, doing interviews, or talking to someone. He was always busy, always surrounded by people, and laughing and having a great time.
Why wouldn’t he be? He’d just won a million dollars.
But when Cassie showed up at my side just to catch me up on the next day’s plans, I cornered her. “Can I leave now?”
She looked surprised, gazing around at the glitzy after-party, full of happy people with drinks in their hands. “You want to leave?”
More than anything. “Yeah, I have a headache. Can we go back to the hotel?”
“Well…okay.” She still looked surprised but nodded. “I’ll drive you out.”
An hour later, I was in my bed at the hotel room, face washed, pajamas on. A phone was now in my room, and I picked it up and immediately called my mother despite the late hour.
“Hello?” My mother’s familiar voice was wonderful.
“Mama, it’s me.”
“Oh, Kandis!” She sobbed on the other end of the phone. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
I could feel my own tears rising. “I tried to win, Mama. I really did. I—”
“I don’t care about that,” she said tearfully. I heard her sniff loudly. “I didn’t realize how upset you were until I saw you on TV talking about it with that awful man. Do you really think I have a problem? I just like playing the machines.”
She was actually asking me? She hadn’t noticed until now? Really? “Yes, you do have a problem, Mama. You spend all of your money there, and that’s not good,” I said wiping my eyes. “And I want to help you.”
“I’m going to change,” she promised me. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t you worry about your mama.”
I smiled through my tears. “I’m glad to hear that.”
We talked for a little longer, but I started to yawn, exhausted, and then we hung up.
I curled up in bed, hugging my pillow. It felt weird to have a bed all to myself after two months of sharing the sheets with Brodie. Of course, thinking about Brodie made fresh tears come to my eyes.
He hadn’t even tried to see me tonight. Did he really not care one bit?
I sniffed. Then, my sniffles became tears, and I cried myself to sleep.
~~ * ~~
POUND POUND POUND.
I jerked upright in the darkness, rubbing my face. My nerves were on high alert, and I shivered. Had one of the ghosts decided to make themselves known after all?
Then, I realized I was no longer at The Magnolias. I wasn’t on the show. I was in a hotel room. I glanced over at the clock.
3:37 a.m.
POUND. POUND. POUND. “Kandis! I know you’re in there!”
That was Brodie’s voice. Scrubbing my face with one hand, I slid out of bed and headed to the hotel door. I peered out of the peephole. Sure enough, there was Brodie in his dark gray suit, collar loose. He was in the hallway, alone. As I watched, he reached out to pound on the door again.
I hastily undid the chain latch and slid the door open a crack. “Brodie? What the hell are you doing? It’s three in the morning.”
To my surprise, he pushed his way into the room. Before I had time to protest, his hands were cupping my face, and he leaned down and began to kiss me, his tongue sliding into my mouth.
I shoved at him, suddenly furious, and pushed him away. “What the fuck, Brodie? No hello?”
He leaned against the wall, all gorgeousness, and gave me a lazy, delicious smile. “Hello, Kandis. Can we kiss now?”
“No, we can’t kiss.” I crossed my arms over my sleep shirt and pointed at my cracked door. “Get out of here.”
He straightened, looking surprised. “Are you mad at me? Is this why you avoided me all night?”