Page 21 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

A prerecorded chanting of “Go men, go men, donate” done to the foot-stomping rhythm of “We will… we will… rock you” played out full blast as Matt engineered a one-man pep rally.

The chant continued for several seconds and then faded out. The next thing she heard was the unexpected sound of waves washing up on the shore. If she’d had any thoughts of falling asleep while she listened to Matt’s show, his next words quashed them.

"I had a chance to listen toLiv Livethis morning, fellas.”

The sound of canned gasps and murmurs rose, then fell as Matt continued. “Yeah, I know, I know. The woman is way too preoccupied with life’s harsh realities.”

Another wave rolled into shore, and the surf pounded. A gull cawed.

“I prefer a little fantasy in my life. Tonight I’m going to show you how to add some to yours.”

Olivia let out the breath she held and abandoned the in-and-out thing. Like a conductor staring into the headlights of an oncoming train, she closed her eyes and braced for the crash.

“Pretend for a minute that you’re shipwrecked on a deserted island. You’ve got warm trade winds, a lovely little inlet for swimming and fishing, and unlike Tom Hanks inCast Away, you do not have to form an intimate relationship with a soccer ball. You get to choose both your companions and your supplies. This is, after all, your fantasy.”

Reggae music snuck up full and then lowered to background volume. Gulls called again and mingled with the subtle rhythm of waves lapping gently on the shore. Olivia could almost feel the sun on her back as Matt continued.

“It’s a gorgeous day. The sand is like powdered sugar. The sea is that bright blue-green color it gets when the sun is dancing on top of it. I can see a shipping channel off in the distance, so I know when I’m ready to be rescued everything will get worked out. No pressure, just a great escape.”

His voice was as powerful and warm as a deep tissue massage, and Olivia began to relax despite herself. What could happen on an island getaway?

The soft strains of “Don’t Worry Be Happy” joined the audio mix and then disappeared beneath the mesmerizing timbre of Matt Ransom’s voice.

“I walk down the beach and discover two crates that have come in on the tide. One of them holds twenty-four jars of beluga caviar packed in ice. The other is a case of craft beer with an opener attached.”

The happy island music cranked up and then faded back under.

“As I set the crates under a palm tree near the entrance to a cave, I spot the only other people on the island—you can have a maximum of three companions, guys. In my case, they're Heidi, Lourdes, and Veronica—a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead—who look absolutely exquisite in the only article of clothing they’ve brought with them: thong bikini bottoms.”

Male sighs of ecstasy mingled with the island sound effects. Then came several seconds of teasing feminine laughter.

Alone in her room, Olivia gritted her teeth.

“Okay, guys, that’s my scenario, but everyone gets to create his own.”

Matt paused and then brought the soft feminine laughter up once more.

Olivia was just getting ready to write off the whole thing as a waste of time when Dawg came on the air. She recognized his name from her conversations with JoBeth, and she wasn’t surprised to discover that he spoke like a good ole Southern boy—and an unhappy one at that.

“Hey, Matt.”

“Dawg. Did you call to pledge food or to visit Fantasy Island?”

“Well, I wanted to pledge some milk for the food drive, but I’m not getting any of that anymore.”

Olivia caught herself smiling at Matt’s puzzled silence.

“JoBeth moved out. She’s left me.”

“I’m sorry to hear it, man. You definitely deserve a getaway. Who do you want to take with you?”

“JoBeth. She’s the only one I want on my island, but thanks to you and that Dr. O, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

"We’re talking Fantasy Island, Dawg. You don’t need to invite JoBeth... or anyone else you actually know. I’d consider Miss March. Her last pictorial tells me she knows exactly how not to dress for an island vacation.”

“Matt, I don’t think you’re listening. JoBeth has moved out. And not only that, she’ll barely talk to me. Threw a damn pie in my face when I tried to get her to come back home.”

Olivia sat up in bed, intrigued, but Matt refused to be drawn into Dawg’s reality.

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