Page 74 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

Charles fit the headphones onto his head and leaned over to speak into the microphone. “Hey, Matt. Hope you’re getting ready to pull out all the stops. I know you don’t want to lose out to the doctor at this stage.”

“What do you want me to do, Crankower, set myself on fire? I don’t have to see the numbers to know the station has no room for complaints.”

“Well, I just don’t want to see you blow this opportunity for a decisive victory. If Olivia were compromised in some way...”

Charles saw Ben’s head whip around. Turning away from the producer, he lowered his voice. “The sexual thing between you is already obvious to anyone who’s paying attention. Maybe it’s time to let our listeners know what happened between you two in Chicago.”

There was a long silence and then, “Forget it, Charles. I’m not interested in your bag of dirty tricks. The show I’ve got planned will be more than enough to keep me on the air."

“Don’t go all noble on us Mr. Bachelor of the Year.”

Ransom actually growled at him, which Charles found very interesting. "Give me Ben, Crankower. And keep your sticky fingers out of my pie.”

Charles returned the headphones and reached over to the computer so he could fiddle with the camera angles. Every once in a while Matt looked up and glowered through the lens at him like some jungle animal protecting his lair, which Charles found intriguing as hell. Could the luscious Dr. O mean more to Matt than a convenient piece of ass? Now there was an idea with incredible potential.

Chapter Twenty-Five

At 10 PM Olivia put on her sheep pajamas and crawled into bed. She felt a bone-deep weariness that had little to do with lack of sleep and too much to do with the words she and Matt had hurled at each other earlier.

They’d spent the afternoon in full-combat readiness, both ready to strike if another offensive was launched. Dinner had been a painful affair with none of the easy camaraderie she’d come to look forward to. It was hard to believe the Matt Ransom she faced today was the same one who had taken her to the moon and back just a day ago.

Grabbing her phone and pulling up the TuneIn Radio app, she wondered what topic he’d pull out of his hat for his last show. She knew he’d never go out without attempting to eradicate her lead, but she wasn’t seriously worried. After the votes she’d pulled in Saturday night, it would take a real doozy to do any more than just even the score. She’d worry about the consultant and the upcoming ratings book when she had to. Right now, all she wanted was out of this remote and this place. And out of Matt’s way.

Matt’s theme music came up full, and Olivia turned off the bedside light and settled in to listen. It didn’t take long for her weariness to be replaced, once again, by a white-hot anger.

“Okay, guys,” Matt said. “This is it, the last show of the last day of captivity, which means the last chance to vote for Yours Truly. We’ve taken in a ton of money and food, thanks to you. We’ll have the totals to announce tomorrow morning during our release. Ahh, what a glorious word. Release.”

She heard another tune sneak in under his voice, but she couldn’t quite recognize the music.

“In fact, release is an important aspect of our topic tonight. So is freedom.”

Now she could make out the song. It was “The Wedding March,” cranked up full in all its simple glory. It took no imagination at all to picture women in white dresses floating down church aisles toward their adoring grooms.

“Tonight we’re going to hear about some great escapes.” The music didn’t just stop then, it screeched to a halt as if someone had dragged the needle of a record player across it.

“That’s right, gentlemen. Tonight we’re going to hear first-person testimonials from men who almost succumbed but’’—-another dramatic pause and a drum roll—“managed to extricate themselves at the last possible moment and at great personal peril.”

Male applause and cheers came up full. Olivia sat up in bed and crossed her arms over her chest. She could feel her teeth clench.

Matt came on as glib as ever. Olivia could practically hear him chortling, and she felt an overwhelming urge to go out there and drag him away from the microphone, stuff him in a footlocker, and drop him off a very tall bridge.

“All right, gentlemen. Say hello to Barry, who found a unique way out of the ties that bind. Barry, tell us your story.”

“Well, I was sitting at the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.”

“Okay...”

“And I’m eating the shrimp cocktail, and I look up and notice that not a single one of the men at the tables around us is talking. These are all the guys who’ve married into my fiancee’s family, and they’re just nodding their heads and saying, ‘Yes, dear, No, dear.’ ”

“Scary,” Matt said.

“Scary? I tell you, all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well, I had to think fast, you know. I mean, you can’t just pull the woman aside and say, ‘I’m sorry but I don’t want to turn out like all the other poor stiffs who married into your family.’ ”

“No, that probably wouldn’t go over well.”

---