Page 73 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

“No, you’re not wasting shows, never that. But you sure are wasting your life.”

One of Matt’s eyebrows shot up, but Olivia ignored the warning. Something perverse in her wanted him just as angry as she was. Getting up off her stool, she marched around the counter so she could confront him without anything blunting her anger. She could feel it bubbling up through her bloodstream, and for once she didn’t smash it back down. If he felt free to bash her over the head with his version of the truth, then she would do the same.

“Maybe if you stopped swaggering around sleeping with every woman you meet, you could actually explore what it is that keeps you from sharing yourself with anyone. For an allegedly outgoing guy, you are one of the most secretive people I’ve ever met.”

She pointed a finger at his chest, and in her anger practically drilled a hole with it. “Getting to know you feels a lot like extracting teeth. Without Novocain. You call me buttoned down, but you are completely zipped up, and you aren’t even trying to let anyone in. Pretty soon people will just stop bothering. And then you can have what you want—lots of unimportant sex with women who don’t really care about you.”

They stood there toe to toe, neither moving. Olivia’s finger felt welded to Matt’s chest, and both of them were breathing heavily. In a romance novel, the sexual energy surging between them would have forced them into each other’s arms and ultimately led to declarations of undying love. But romance novels weren’t set in front of live stream cameras and didn’t feature diehard fans eagerly waiting for the hero and heroine to tear each other apart.

Matt found his voice first. “Well done, Olivia. Wouldn’t want our last afternoon in captivity to be as ho-hum as your last show. I’ll write you a check for your on-the-spot analysis.”

Olivia took a step back. “Don’t bother.” She looked up into the brown eyes that moments before had sizzled with heat and now revealed absolutely nothing. “Let’s just consider it a parting gift. Someday you might actually use it.”

???

JoBeth sipped her wine and looked longingly around her. Kevin’s vacation place, a two-bedroom stilt house on a mountain overlooking North Georgia’s Lake Burton, nearly took her breath away. Both bedrooms were massive and had en suite bathrooms and they were separated by a central great room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the view. The house, which Kevin walked her through with obvious pride, had two fireplaces, a wraparound deck, and a screened dining porch off the fully equipped kitchen.

JoBeth loved the house, its location, and its incredible view. She especially liked rocking on the deck and looking down the mountainside at the now placid lake below. It was only Kevin she wasn’t so sure about.

“What are you thinking, JoBug?”

He’d already started calling her by the nickname she’d once found appealing. And she had the traitorous thought that if he’d just stop talking, everything would be fine.

"Oh, I’m just swept up by the view, Kevin. It’s incredible out here. So still and beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He rocked in silence for a moment and then said, “I bought this property while we were still together.”

“You never told me that.”

“I know. I meant it to be a wedding present.” His tone grew wistful. “I had this crazy idea of us camping out up here for our honeymoon.” He gave an embarrassed laugh and looked away.

“Oh, Kevin. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, it all worked out okay. I’ve enjoyed the house. But I always wondered what you’d think of it.” He turned back to her, waiting for her response.

“Well, it’s fabulous, of course! I can’t think of a thing I’d change.” She only wished she could get as excited about him as she was about the stacked-stone fireplaces and the two-person Jacuzzi. She rocked a little harder as she puzzled it out.

Kevin smiled, and JoBeth reminded herself what a good catch he was. Kevin Middleton was attractive and nice, and he’d certainly done very well for himself. Apparently “catching” him would not be a difficult task, since he didn’t appear to be running at all.

She could tell from the way his doelike brown eyes regarded her when he thought she wasn’t looking that he still cared about her, and she tried to dredge up some answering feeling of her own. But all she could think was how much Dawg would enjoy fishing on the lake. And how fine it would be to sit and rock with him on a summer evening while the fireflies sparked around them.

“It’s getting late, Kevin. I have to go.”

She stood and walked to the railing for a last look at the view. Kevin joined her and she fell back a step, realizing that the last thing she wanted to do right now was kiss this man when Dawg was so much on her mind.

Ignoring her body language, Kevin stepped closer and put a hand out to caress her cheek. “You never stopped being important to me, JoBug, and I plan to be important to you again. In fact, I’m going to make sure of it.”

???

Charles Crankower sat in the control room while Matt and Ben talked with their headphones on. Within twenty-four hours they’d have the consultant’s report and in another few weeks, the book would be out with the final ratings breakdown. Right now, the only existing measurement of talent popularity was the weeklong printout of votes and food donations Charles held in his hand. There’d been the expected upward swings after noticeably strong shows, but in the end, the statistical difference between the two hosts didn’t amount to much.

In Charles’s experience “too close to call” wasn’t anywhere near as promotable as a landslide victory and somebody eating crow. Matt Ransom knew these facts as well as he did. He had one more show and almost twelve hours left to put Olivia out of the running, but for some reason, the man seemed to have lost his edge.

Charles reached a hand out to tap Ben on the shoulder.

“Let me borrow your headphones, will you?”

Matt’s producer eyed him as suspiciously as ever, but passed them over without protest.

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