Reality (The Girl in the Box Book 52), page 22
Chief Cordle looked up at me, frowning for a second, then relaxed and sat back in his chair. “Oh. Well, that makes sense, then, actually.”
I tried to keep from evincing a hard reaction, something like letting my jaw drop. “It makes sense that he would go sit in a freezing-ass creek long enough to cause genuine injury to his private parts – which he had seemed mighty proud of when he presented them to me a couple nights ago?”
“You don't know the kind of power Heidi has in this town,” Cordle said, smiling – surprisingly – patiently. Or maybe patronizingly. “If you're a single person, she's basically the key to you finding lifetime happiness with the person of your dreams. People are starting to get word, and they're coming from all over. Steelwood Springs is going to be the mecca of the lovelorn in the next few years, mark my words. So, yeah, if Heidi told him to go soak his sack in ice until he cooled his groin enough to think straight, Andrew is probably dumb enough to take her literally and stubborn enough to sit there until he lost his damned fool mind.”
“Hm,” I said, not quite convinced. Oh, it wasn't a totally illogical possibility, I just didn't assign it more than ten percent probability. “What do you know about Heidi Hutchinson? Other than from the show?”
“Heidi was born and raised here,” Cordle said, and now he was definitely being patronizing, chuckling at my ignorant, outsider expense. “We've all known that girl for all her life. Hell, most of us grew up with her parents, too.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “Where are they?”
“Don't you have a man to go seek out?” Cordle asked, finally losing patience with my probing. “I saw last night's episode; maybe you oughta focus less on digging yourself into troubles and more on trying to keep on an even plane with the people you're meeting.”
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “'This above all; to thine own self be true.' Just trying to be true to myself here, Chief.”
Cordle lifted one eyebrow, then the other. “Look, I'm not sure why you're quoting Hamlet at me, but I can assure you that it's not going to help you win a man. Unless he's some sort of egghead college professor, which, based on what I've seen from your episodes so far, does not appear to be your type. And doubtless you would not appeal much to him, either.”
“I'm not going to fake who I am in order to impress a guy I'm not really interested in,” I said.
“No one's saying to fake it,” he said. “Just maybe try and be better than you presently are. Look – when left to my natural entropic direction, I'm a cranky old man whose inclination to shower runs toward weekly rather than daily–”
“Mmmm, I respect the swamp warlock lifestyle.”
“–but that's not being respectful of my partner,” Cordle said. “So I file the rough edges off a little bit. I swear less. I shower more. I try to bite off stinging replies rather than just letting them fly willy-nilly. And before you say, it's not because of that whole, 'if you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best' canard.” He leaned slightly across the desk. “It's because if you love someone...don't they deserve your best? Or your best effort, at least?”
“Wow,” I said. “I'm really feeling called out here, Chief. Feeling targeted. Feeling seen, my swamp witch self.”
“Whatever the hell that all means,” he said, waving a hand at me. “Do what you want. I'm just saying maybe aspire to more rather than slouch toward less, that's all.”
“Don't you think it's important that I find someone who'll accept me as I am?” I asked.
Cordle made a scoffing sound deep in his throat. “The cashier at the local Walmart will accept you as you are. They have no involvement in your life once you leave their lane; they don't give a rip about you. If you're marrying someone with the intent to spend the rest of your life with them...wouldn't it be nice if you both pushed each other to be better? To be all that you could be–?”
“Isn't that an Army recruiting slogan?”
“Yeah, well, I guess I absorbed more than drill from my sergeant,” Cordle said with a shake of his head. “Anyway – I'll call you if something comes up, Nealon. Otherwise...” and he waved his hand dismissively at me again. “...Best of luck.”
“Thanks,” I said, heading for the door. “For...all of that, I think.”
“Just use it,” Cordle said. “We're all rooting for you. Heidi hasn't delivered a bad ending yet. Wouldn't want to see you be the first, either, because...I don't know how Heidi'd take that. Girl believes in love – and in all of us – way more than anyone I've ever seen. I wouldn't want to see you be the one to break her heart.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
Sienna
“Sienna!” Heidi greeted me with smiles and open arms as I came in for a landing in front of the mansion. She came across the pavement in a slow run, arms wide as I touched down, and wrapped her arms around me, squealing slightly as she hugged me tight. “You're back!”
“I wasn't gone very long, but glad to know you missed me,” I said, trying not to make it awkward by ignoring her hug, so I patted her on the back with one hand.
She pulled away, her face now serious. “I heard about what happened with the episode Sarah cut together for last night. I was already on my way out of town, so I'm sorry about how it turned out.”
I felt the urge to bristle, but it faded. “It's okay. I may not like what the guys had to say about me, or Blockhead's interviewing style, but it's not like they lied or made me out to be something I'm not.”
“Very magnanimous of you,” Heidi said, smoothing her dress. “But there's still a formality that has to happen.” She got a wicked grin. “Are you ready to chop some guys?”
I stared at her, pursing my lips. “You mean that in the sense...?”
“Not literally,” she said. “No actual chopping.” And she made a slow karate motion. Then mimed holding a knife. “Or that kind of chopping, either.”
“Thank you for clarifying,” I said. “With me, it could kinda go either way.”
She nodded, dark hair bouncing. “Listen – this is really just a ceremonial thing to give you a chance to reclaim your power, because you're in the driver's seat here. If I could give you any advice, it'd be to trust yourself.”
“That sounds like terrible advice,” I said. “I am awful at dating.” I pulled up short. “Look, I'll cut these guys so you have your episode for tonight, but Heidi...I think you might need to accept that you've got a lemon here.”
Heidi paused, then walked back to me, taking my hand in hers for a second. “I don't believe that for a second. You are worthy of love, Sienna. You hear me?”
“Okay,” I said. “But if we're about to cut all the guys I'm supposed to be dating...what am I doing here? Dating myself?”
She looked me right in the eyes, then squealed. “Wait and see. I've found you a catch.”
I held back. “The problem with catches is that unless you stuff and mount them right away, they kinda start to stink after a day or so.”
Heidi stared at me, looking vaguely appalled. “Did you just make a fishing innuendo?”
“Not my best work, admittedly,” I said, glancing up at the sunny skies, “but the point stands. My relationships don't last.”
“Yet,” she said, grabbing me again, this time on the wrist so she could pull me inside. “Live in hope, Sienna!”
The living room was all set up for shooting, with Eilish waiting on the couch with Blockhead. She wasn't wearing the wedding dress, though she did slightly huff when she saw me come in, as if hoping I would have sat this one out. Heidi led me right to the couch and declared, “Make up! Wardrobe!” and then flittered off as a horde of makeup artists and wardrobe people descended on me with clothing, hair styling, and, yes, makeup.
“So, set anything else on fire?” Eilish sniffed as she sat beside me, watching them work.
“Not in an hour or so,” I said as a whirlwind operation was performed upon me – my jacket stripped and replaced with a more stylish overcoat, my hair tamed – as best as could be achieved with its intermediate length, and a healthy amount of makeup slathered onto my face. Eilish sat in silence all the while, apparently unwilling to engage further.
When it was all done, the crowds parted and I was left alone on set with Eilish beside me, Blockhead the host on the chair to our left, and the camera guys pointing their tools of the trade at us with Heidi and Sarah behind them, looking on.
“Ed, push in,” Sarah declared, Heidi looking like she was going to burst or possibly dance, just behind her. “And action!”
“So, Sienna,” Blockhead said, “you had kind of a rough night last night.”
“Yeah, that fight was intense,” I said, intentionally going a different direction than he'd plainly meant to. “I've had problems with Atlas types before, but fortunately this one wasn't well-trained, though the ability to go small meant she was significantly stronger than most of the ones I run into, who seem only able to wrap their minds around bigger being better–”
“Isn't that the strategy you've embraced for your waistline?” Eilish said, low enough that the cameras couldn't pick it up.
“Ask Sienna how she's feeling,” Heidi whispered, clearly to Blockhead.
“Okay,” Blockhead said, smiling. “Well, Sienna...how are you feeling this morning?”
“Hangry,” I said. “Mostly hangry. That's hungry and angry mashed together–”
A couple high-pitched titters of amusement from the crew let me know I was at least entertaining the audience, though Blockhead had a blank look pasted on his mug – big surprise.
“Moving forward,” Blockhead said, once he'd recomposed himself, “we've decided to make some changes.” His voice was smooth and low. “For the good of everybody.” So solemn. “Obviously, there's not a lot of interest among our current crop of suitors for Sienna, while Eilish is having incredible success. Here at Matchmade, because we believe there's love out there for everyone, we've decided to split things up–”
“Is that what we call it when you get dumped by a whole boatload of guys at once?” Eilish muttered. “How charitable.”
I ignored her, listening to the better angels of my nature. Yes, I know, I, too, was shocked to find that there were any of those remaining.
“Sienna,” Blockhead said, “would you like to say goodbye to the guys?”
I blinked, sitting on the couch, my hands slightly perspiring against the material. “Not really. I don't feel that connected to them, I don't really need any kind of closure – oh,” I said, as the guys started parading in, “I guess I thought that was an actual question, not the rhetorical kind.” They were wearing their suits, looking all solemn and serious as they lined up in front of us. Val waved at Eilish, who waved back with some enthusiasm. I shook my head; not the type I'd pictured for her, but whatever.
“Well. Golly,” I said, once they were all in and clearly presented for me to do my dumping thing. “It's been quite a journey these last few days. I think what we've learned, if anything, is that sometimes people just don't fit together well–”
“She needs to be dating a rabid wolverine,” Bearded Ryan whispered to Julio, prompting a nod. I ignored that, too.
“–and that there's no shame in this if we're honest about it,” I said, feeling a little redness in the cheeks. Not too much. “I'm sorry things didn't work out between us, guys, but I know that Eilish is finding all of you very, very attractive and interesting, and that there's a lot of compatibility between you because you're all low IQ idiots together–”
“Cut,” Sarah said, shaking her head.
“What the hell?” Eilish looked deeply offended.
“Sorry, sorry, I let the truth slip out there, my bad,” I said. “Musta gotten hit by a truth wolverine.” I stared pointedly at Ryan, whose mouth was gaping behind his beard. “Can I take it from the middle?”
“Yeah,” Sarah said, frowning at me. “We'll cover it with shots of the guys' reactions to your speech. Try not to go off course into insults, though.”
“Love, Sienna,” Heidi said. “It's not about hate or spite, it's about love.”
“I am going to love watching you all go,” I said, making Sarah shake her head again. “I mean...it's been such an interesting journey. I feel like I've learned so much from all of you.” In my head, my voice sounded dead, devoid of any real feeling. “And I know you'll find love somewhere down the road with someone who is the absolute perfect – possibly brain-damaged – fit for you. So long.”
“Just cut that part out,” Heidi muttered with a surprising amount of patience. Editing must be easy.
And the men were paraded out, thankfully without further opportunity for comment. I'm sure when the episode got spliced together it would be paired with sad music to accompany them, but once it was done, I breathed a sigh of relief and started to pluck the microphone off my collar and the battery unit out of the small of my back where the makeup and wardrobe pit crew had stuck it – very uncomfortably – between me and the couch.
“Whoa, whoa,” Sarah said, waving her hands in a STOP motion. “We're not done yet.” She sounded firm yet peppy.
“Well, you have no more guys for me,” I said, looking around, “so unless you want me to date Blockhead, I don't know what else you want me to do...? Unless you need me to cheer for Eilish, which...let's be honest, is not likely to happen at present given our current working relationship.”
“Is it really that hard for you to support a fellow woman when she's falling in love?” Heidi asked.
“Oh, I don't need her support,” Eilish said.
“No, you are strong and capable, and I'm proud of you for rocking that out every single day,” Heidi said, “but wouldn't it be nice instead of falling into acrimony, you two could have each other’s backs? You fought together through the absolute worst in Scotland. Why can't you be supportive here, in the best of times, as you both seek out love? It's not as though you're even in competition for a man anymore...”
“I think it's because she has a stick up her ass the size of Dublin,” I said.
“Oh, you should talk, Miss Grimdeath,” Eilish spat back. “She's got the personality of a bloody scorpion, and considerably more desire to sting.”
“I must not sting that bad, you're still alive–”
“Okay, okay,” Heidi waded in front of the cameras, waving her arms. “I see we need a moment's pause. Now, I had a date planned for Eilish with a beau of her choice, but I think you two need a little female bonding. Clear the air – and maybe the malice. Sarah – get these two out to the smoke lodge?”
“The what now?” I asked.
Sarah beckoned us. “Come on. Let's go.”
“Hang on a sec,” I said, remembering Andrew and picking my way over to Heidi. “Did you send Andrew home?”
She nodded, frowning slightly. “Yeah, after the...incident. Why?”
“Because I found him in the creek over yonder this morning,” I pointed in the direction of town, “naked as the night I last saw him, and shivering his balls off. Almost literally.”
Her frown deepened. “Oh my goodness. Is he okay?”
“Well, I took him to the hospital,” I said. “But he fought me the whole way. Said you told him to go there.”
Her eyebrows crept up in surprise. “I told him to cool off...but I didn't think he'd take me that literally.” Her hands rose to cover her mouth. “The poor dear. I was going to have him back next season after he'd had a chance to think about what he'd done. Is he okay?”
“I don't know,” I said. “Might want to call the hospital and see. Looked pretty...y'know, down there.” I frowned. “Not that those ever look particularly good.”
“Oh, no,” Heidi said, and genuine alarm covered her face. “I – I'll call right now. Sarah – take care of this.” And she rushed out of the room.
Sarah nodded. “Come on, ladies. Let's get you cleansed.”
“Tell me this is not a group shower,” Eilish said.
“Not that kind of show,” Sarah said, leading us outdoors. “Come on. You'll love it.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
Scott
He woke shortly after five from a restless sleep and found Scarlet's arm draped over his chest. Her breathing was slow and steady, in and out, nothing he wasn't used to. The hint of her perfume was mixed with hints of sweat from her performance. She hadn't showered before coming to bed, something that should have bothered him, but oddly didn't.
It took a few moments of gentle effort to remove her arm from across his chest. He managed to get up after that, Scarlet barely stirring, and he put his pants back on, trying to ignore the resolute, attention-seeking behavior of his anatomy. It was clearly unsatisfied with the celibate sleeping arrangements, and he ignored it as he went out the door of the bedroom and closed it quietly behind him.
Scott found Traverton in the kitchen rustling around, AR-15 hanging awkwardly from his body. He heard Scott coming from some distance off and had set out a second ceramic cup for him, the box of tea bags waiting on the counter as he filled them up. “You want a cup, too, right?” Traverton asked as he came around the corner, his few strands of hair wild like he'd slept on them.
“What happened to you?” Scott asked, nodding at him.
Traverton mussed his last threads of hair self-consciously. “Halfway through the night I turned into a condor and settled down on the roof to sleep. I woke up there as a human, shingles rubbing against my face.” He shook his head. “Not a great night of sleep.” A small twinkle took root in his eyes. “What about you? Did you, uh...have fun last night?”
“I most definitely did not,” Scott said, dropping the tea bag in the steaming water. “She said she couldn't sleep unless there was someone in the room with her, and apparently preferred there be someone in the bed.”
