Page 15 of Surviving Love
I smirked. “I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head.”
“You’re on thin ice, Mason. I’d play nice if I were you.” His voice rumbled.
My gut clenched at the obvious warning in his voice. “I was too busy helping with the shelter. I don’t know anyone else well enough yet.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Spend tomorrow talking to people. See who rubs you the wrong way.”
I couldn’t believe that Jack of all people was offering me a lifeline. But he was. However, as I gave the camera nearby a wary glance, I realized I had to be careful. Everything we said in front of the viewers could come back to haunt us at the end of the game. It was the TV audience who would ultimately decide who should win the money. Once we were down to two finalists, the viewers would vote on who they thought deserved the cash prize. If I seemed too conniving to the audience, that might not sit well with them. Sometimes they respected people who played ruthlessly, and sometimes they punished them by giving the money to the other, more sympathetic finalist.
“So you’re actually not going to vote me out if our team loses a challenge and goes to the Fire Council meeting?” I studied him closely, watching for any tell.
“Not this week.”
“For all I know, you’re bullshitting me.”
He chuffed. “You got a better offer I don’t know about?”
I winced. “Not at the moment.”
“I’m not saying we’re best friends now. I’m saying you worked hard, and you should be rewarded for that.” He squinted up at the midnight sky as drops began to fall again. “Damn. More rain.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Me neither, but I was hoping for a longer break.” He shielded his face with his hand as he glanced upward again.
I shifted uneasily and forced myself to say, “Uh… thanks for giving me a chance to stay.”
He grinned, a sardonic gleam in his eye. “I’ll bet that hurt.”
“A little, but thanks to you, at least now maybe I have some hope.”
He didn’t speak for a few moments, and then he held out his hand. “If I have anything to say about it, you’ll be safe this week. I make no promises about next week, and let’s not forget, it’s possible I’m being played too. For all I know, Harold plans on voting me out this week.”
“Good point.” I hesitated and then took his hand. “I promise not to put your name down this week also.”
“Okay, that’s good to hear.”
I let go of his hand, my palm tingling from his touch. “I’m shocked you’d leave the shelter to come after me.” I studied his angular features, not finding any gentleness there.
“It was obvious you were upset.”
I scowled. “I wasn’t about to start crying.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“I was mad, that’s all. I’m not weak.”
He held up his hands. “Mason, I didn’t say you were. I’d have been upset too if I found out Harold was playing me. Having emotions doesn’t make you weak.”
I lifted my brows in surprise. “Wow. I’d think a guy like you would think that’s exactly what emotions make you.”
“You keep implying you know me. You don’t know anything about me.”
“True, but I think I know your type.”
He sighed. “Did it ever occur to you I’m playing a part?”
“Yes. But I don’t think it’s all an act. I think you actually are a bossy know-it-all.”
