All in the Game (13 page)

For six endless hours, none of them would yield. If one of the contestants were to drop dead, he could help the bereaved kin file a wrongful death suit, Ty decided, not entirely facetiously. And he wouldn't charge a penny for it.

Lauren and Cortnee continued to wilt before the camera lens, and Rico looked increasingly uncomfortable. Only Konrad was stoic, his demeanor unchanged from when he first climbed atop the post.

“I can't do this anymore!” Cortnee cried at last. “If I get down, can I have some water and that avocado salad you offered me a while ago, Bobby?”

“You certainly can!” Bobby assured her unctuously. “Plus, I'll throw in any kind of sandwich and dessert that you want, too. As much as you want of everything. Have I made you an offer you can't refuse?”

Sobbing, Cortnee jumped off and swam the short distance to the shore.

The roar of a high-powered speedboat engine was a jarring invasion into the quiet of the waning afternoon. Ty stopped his camera even before the shouted order, “Cut!”

All filming ceased.

“Say, that's one of the hotel's boats!” exclaimed Bobby, rising from his shaded deck chair. “It must be Clark bringing the network suits over for a look-see. I guess they want to meet us.” He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his impeccably pressed shirt and ordered Heidi to bring him a mirror and comb.

Everybody watched as Clark Garrett and two older men
dressed untropically in business-casual wear disembarked from the boat, which had retractable wheels to drive it right onto the shore. The driver of the boat, a hotel employee, tied the boat to a stake, something of a primitive makeshift dock.

“As if this day weren't long enough,” growled Ty. “Now it's going to be truly interminable.”

There were groans of assent from the production assistants.

A far worse thought struck Ty. If the network executives were here on the island to watch the filming, there would be no need to take the day's footage to the hotel for them to view tonight. No reason to leave the crew camp for the resort. And no opportunity to see Shannen.

If he couldn't see Shannen tonight…

Ty resisted the urge to quit on the spot. He could buy that stupid boat and take it to the hotel right now. Neither his father nor his brother would hesitate to make such a flamboyant scene. They would even suggest a cameraman record the drama. It was that horrific flash of insight that kept Ty from acting it out.

And then…

“Lauren!”

Shannen?
Ty was glad he'd put down his camera, because he probably would've dropped it at the sound of Shannen's voice. He wasn't delusional—it was really her!

She'd come out of the boat's cabin and stood on the small deck to wave at her sister, a few yards out in the water.

“Shannen! I can't believe it! You're here!” Lauren cried from her post.

Ty couldn't have said it better himself.

“These guys were nice enough to let me hitch a ride over with them.” Shannen grinned as she hopped off the boat onto the sand.

She was wearing a blue paisley sundress, and it looked
as clean and crisp as one of Bobby Dixon's ensembles. Her hair swung loose around her shoulders and was ruffled by the breeze.

At the sight of her, Ty's blood grew hot. Every muscle in his body tightened as a surge of erotically charged memories flooded him. And then she removed her sunglasses, revealing eyes alert and shining with intelligence and—when she spotted him—something more.

Warmth. Humor. Tenderness. Was it possible to see such things in someone's gaze or was he projecting what he wanted, what he
needed,
to be there?

Ty walked toward her. Everybody was milling around; the production assistants bringing food and water to Cortnee, the rest of the crew taking a break with snacks or cigarettes while Bobby, Clark Garrett and the network execs toured the area.

Ty didn't care if everybody on the island was watching as he came to stand by Shannen's side. “You must know how glad I am to see you.”

“Must I?” She shot him a quick smile before turning to look out at Lauren, Rico and Konrad standing on the posts. “How long have they been out there?”

“Over six hours. Cortnee just gave it up. Poor kid.”

They both glanced at Cortnee, who was draining a bottle of cold water. Adam was fanning her with a large palm frond.

“Poor kid is right,” agreed Shannen. “And if she gets voted off today, she won't even have the fun of living it up at the resort till the end of the game.”

Ty wanted to take her hand and pull her into his arms. The hell with keeping secrets! There was no reason to pretend there was nothing between them, no reason for the pretense of a casual conversation between cameraman and ineligible contestant.

But he resisted the urge and didn't make his move. Shannen was standing beside him, not close enough for their
shoulders to touch or their hands to brush. She was looking around at the Final Four, not up at him, sending clear non-verbal messages to keep up the pretense.

“Why won't Cortnee have fun at the resort?” Ty quizzed instead.

Maybe he couldn't touch her, but at least she was here to talk to. Her presence brought an end to the teeth-gnashing frustration he'd been suffering all day. With Shannen at his side, not even watching paint dry would be intolerable.

“What's not fun about an all-expense-paid stay in tropical luxury?” he prompted.

“Well, it's still tropical but not so luxurious now,” said Shannen. “Lucy and the others say the network bosses turned the resort into a gulag.”

“How is that possible? Last night—”

“—was the end of the good times. Apparently, the network bosses wigged out at the size of the bill the group has been running up at the resort.”

“So that's why they look so grim.” Ty glanced at the unsmiling network execs tramping around the camp. “Hmm, maybe
grim
is too upbeat a word to describe them.”

“True. Clark Garrett called everybody together after lunch and screamed at us for almost an hour,” said Shannen. “He claimed he'd been screamed at even longer by the network brass. They were
not
happy that the contestants and staffers at the hotel have all been ordering four and five of the most expensive appetizers and entrées apiece in the restaurants at every meal, plus the room service bills were astronomical.”

“Having been to the Parrot Room to collect Kevin and Adam last night, and knowing that the group hung out there every night, I'm guessing the bar bill alone would've been enough to send the honchos into orbit,” Ty mused.

“And then they found out about all the charges at the
spa and the gift shop,” added Shannen. “I thought Uncle Clark was going to kill Miles right in front of us.”

“Well, Miles was the one encouraging everybody to get everything. Too bad they got greedy.”

“I was in the gift shop today. They charge five dollars for a pack of gum and two hundred dollars for a T-shirt with the resort logo,” Shannen marveled.

“Everybody in the
Victorious
group had on one of those last night at the Parrot Room. We're talking a few thousand in T-shirts right there.” Ty laughed. “No wonder Uncle Clark—”

“Had homicide in his heart,” Shannen put in slyly. “And before you can ask, no, I didn't buy anything in the gift shop, and I was there before the ban was imposed. The five dollars for gum struck me as high-end robbery. Gramma sells gum for fifty cents a pack at the diner.”

“The prices at the resort are inflated, all right.” Ty thought of the overpriced box of condoms he'd purchased there. Not that they weren't worth it, of course.

A sudden gust of wind sent Shannen's skirt billowing, and she quickly pushed it down—but not before he'd caught a glimpse of her shapely tanned thigh. Last night he'd seen so much more….

He stared at Shannen, his gaze intimate, possessive. Thinking back on last night, would it really have been the end of the world if he had made her pregnant? He must've thought so when he plunked down twenty bucks for the box of condoms.

But today he reconsidered. Making her pregnant would be the end of the world as he knew it, but suddenly that didn't strike him as a bad thing. Perhaps he should've bought four packs of the overpriced gum instead, because the concept of Shannen carrying his child enticed him.

“Anyway, Clark issued the official network decree,” Shannen continued, oblivious of Ty's startling yet irresistible daydream. “Starting this afternoon, the network
will pay only for the rooms, plus twenty-five dollars a day per person for food. No room service, no drinks at the bar, no spa or gift-shop charges. Nothing extra.”

“Twenty-five dollars a day for food at those hotel prices isn't very much,” Ty observed.

“True, considering a cheeseburger is one of the cheapest things on the menu and costs twelve dollars. A cola is six dollars. That's what I had for lunch before the boom was lowered. Guess I should've gone for the lobster and imported white asparagus instead, huh?”

“I understand why they've made restrictions, but their food allowance is pretty draconian, considering there's no alternative place to eat on that island.” Ty frowned. “After your nonnutritional sojourn here, you should be eating three decent meals a day, and you can't do that over there on twenty-five dollars a day.”

“I'll manage.” Shannen dismissed his concern and waved to Lauren, who couldn't seem to summon the energy to wave back.

Shannen turned worriedly to Ty. “How much longer do you think they'll last out there?”

“That's anybody's guess, but I think Konrad will win. Lauren and Rico are definitely showing signs of weakening, but Konrad looks the same as when this madness began.”

“Hey, everybody! Break's over, start filming again,” called the assistant director.

Ty and the others retrieved their cameras. Reggie focused on Cortnee, who was feasting on an avocado salad and barbecued chicken; Ty turned his camera on the three stalwart contestants who remained in the competition.

Shannen continued to stand beside him, and nobody commented on it. Nobody even glanced their way.

“I like the freedom of being a reject,” she decided. “It's like being invisible. And it sure beats standing on a beam out there. Poor Lauren! Besides being tired and thirsty, I can't imagine how bored she must be.”

“I can. I was as bored as they are. Until you showed up, that is.”

He shifted, moving imperceptibly until his hip grazed hers. The contact would look accidental if anybody were watching. He waited for Shannen's reaction. Would she move away or stay where she was, their bodies discreetly touching?

Ty was elated when she remained there, although she didn't acknowledge their proximity. She put her sunglasses back on and continued to look straight ahead at the contest in the sea.

Ty kept one eye on his subjects and one on Shannen. It felt so right to have her here with him. And they were on the same side of the camera at last! She was adorable, she was feisty, she was passionate and funny and down-to-earth. He yearned to tell her so—if only they were alone.

But they weren't, and he knew this was neither the time nor the place for a truly private conversation. Someone could join them at any minute and undoubtedly would. So he would stick to impersonal topics.

“I'm curious how you managed to nab a ride over here with Clark and the network bosses, Shannen,” he said conversationally. “Considering their outrage over the bills, I can't seeing them eager to grant any favors to the
Victorious
cast.”

“They aren't mad at me,” Shannen said succinctly. “Since I was the newest to arrive on the island, I didn't have a chance to run up a big bill. I put all the food from the room fridge back in it, so I didn't get charged for that, and my only room service meal was the turkey sandwich. I slept through breakfast and had the cheeseburger for lunch. And I had no gift shop purchases.”

She flashed a mischievous smile. “Ed—he's the one in the pale-peach shirt talking to Bobby—was ready to canonize me when he saw my expenses. Or lack of them.”

“And what made you decide to join them on a visit over
to the old camp?” Ty parried lightly. “Didn't like the idea of lounging around a cushy resort, huh?”

“The other contestants thought I was suffering from separation anxiety because Lauren and I weren't together.” Shannen matched the breeziness of his tone. “I wanted to come here, so I decided to pretend to be the pathetic misfit they already thought I was.”

“The have-the-name-might-as-well-play-the-game strategy. A classic. Been in use since biblical times, I believe.”

“Maybe even earlier.” Shannen laughed a little. “I told Clark I had to see my sister because I was having twin vibes that something was wrong. He assured me Lauren was fine, but he invited me to come along and see for myself.”

“Is there any truth to the twin separation anxiety, Shannen?” Ty asked quietly. “You're not a pathetic misfit for worrying about your sister, you know.”

“I thought about Lauren, of course, especially with that snake Jed spreading those rumors.” She scowled her disapproval. “But Lauren and I have been apart before. Not often, but it's happened. We don't collapse when we're out of each other's sight.”

“Let me see if I have the facts straight, Shannen. You wanted to come here, but you weren't pining away for a glimpse of your twin, even though you let Clark think so. Interesting.”

“Isn't it?” Shannen gave his foot a slight nudge with her own.

“Is this the part where I'm supposed to guess why you're really here?” Ty asked huskily.

She nodded, flushing from head to toe, knowing the sudden rush of heat was unrelated to the tropical sun. Ty's dark eyes seemed to look inside of her. She felt exposed and vulnerable and was grateful that her sunglasses prevented him from reading her emotions in her eyes.