this whole thing planned, didn’t you?”
“I-I swear I didn’t ask for this,” he stammered. “Phoebe, you have to believe me—”
“I’m such an idiot.” A sheen of tears left her blinded as she leveled the full force of her anger on him. The ugliness of his request for the second drop was almost too much to stomach. A huge slap in the face. Never before had she felt so stupid.
His mouth opened and closed as he looked from her to the box of condoms in his hand. She spun on her heel and marched into the undergrowth in no particular direction, her face burning in humiliation. She heard his footfalls as he caught up to her. He grabbed her shoulder, but she slapped his hand away.
“Phoebe, please.”
“Like hell you didn’t know a woman would be with you on this island.” She turned on him again, claws out, wanting to do damage. “What the hell is this show anyway? A secret porno? Did you really think you’re so irresistible I’d be throwing myself at you?” Have I proved otherwise? She bared her teeth at the inner voice, sucking in ragged gulps of breath, trying to temper her rage before she slapped him.
Jonathon held his hands up. “I don’t know what the producers are up to,” he stated in an infuriatingly calm, level voice. “But I swear to you I didn’t ask for…for condoms. Jesus, I asked for a flint. I swear it, Phoebe.”
She wouldn’t believe him, couldn’t believe him. Not after what she’d found in his bag. I want to go home. I want to be with my daughter. The overwhelming need had her digging inside her bag. She pulled out the emergency cellphone.
“Phoebe, angel, no. Please don’t. I need you here. I can’t do this without you.”
Jonathon reached for her, but she stepped back. Of course he needed her there. What good would the condoms be otherwise?
“What the hell do you need the money for? You’re a freakin’ billionaire,” she shot back, hitting the power button on the phone. It lit up and she pulled up the emergency number already programmed into the speed dial.
“I don’t need it. I’m donating the money to feed poor families.”
That made her pause, and her thumb wavered over the send button.
“I donate to them every year, and this extra cash will open a couple more food banks.” His fingers brushed her upper arm before closing around it. He leaned down and looked into her eyes. “And more importantly bring awareness to their charity. Please, Phoebe, I want to stick this out but I can’t do it without you. You’re the backbone of Paradise . I don’t know why the producers pulled this on us, but I think they do know I’ll fail without you.”
I’ll pay off my debts, and I’ll be able to put more toward Sarah’s college fund. The mantra she’d chanted to herself since agreeing to do the stupid show passed through her mind. Jonathon seemed so sincere and his eyes held such honesty, she felt her anger withering. Warning bells cautioned her against being gullible, but she ground her teeth together, renewed determination setting her in motion.
Beyond his shoulder, she spotted neon pink hanging from a tree limb, and when she retrieved her bag, she found the flint they needed inside it. A small relief which barely touched on the discomfort. Her blisters had popped and the bottoms of her feet felt like they’d been rubbed raw. She didn’t have time to remove them, nor to relax. Jonathon got to work chopping down small trees to make the bones of their next shelter while she collected palm leaves to make their walls. Sand fleas had antagonized them on the beach, but the mosquitoes made up the hell of the island’s interior. The little pests waged constant battle with their swatting hands.
Once the shelter was completed, Jonathon went in search of food, while she got a fire started. Phoebe plopped down by the campfire, yanked off her sandals, and studied the soles of her feet. Without ointment, she’d have to suffer until they callused over. Left alone,
“I-I swear I didn’t ask for this,” he stammered. “Phoebe, you have to believe me—”
“I’m such an idiot.” A sheen of tears left her blinded as she leveled the full force of her anger on him. The ugliness of his request for the second drop was almost too much to stomach. A huge slap in the face. Never before had she felt so stupid.
His mouth opened and closed as he looked from her to the box of condoms in his hand. She spun on her heel and marched into the undergrowth in no particular direction, her face burning in humiliation. She heard his footfalls as he caught up to her. He grabbed her shoulder, but she slapped his hand away.
“Phoebe, please.”
“Like hell you didn’t know a woman would be with you on this island.” She turned on him again, claws out, wanting to do damage. “What the hell is this show anyway? A secret porno? Did you really think you’re so irresistible I’d be throwing myself at you?” Have I proved otherwise? She bared her teeth at the inner voice, sucking in ragged gulps of breath, trying to temper her rage before she slapped him.
Jonathon held his hands up. “I don’t know what the producers are up to,” he stated in an infuriatingly calm, level voice. “But I swear to you I didn’t ask for…for condoms. Jesus, I asked for a flint. I swear it, Phoebe.”
She wouldn’t believe him, couldn’t believe him. Not after what she’d found in his bag. I want to go home. I want to be with my daughter. The overwhelming need had her digging inside her bag. She pulled out the emergency cellphone.
“Phoebe, angel, no. Please don’t. I need you here. I can’t do this without you.”
Jonathon reached for her, but she stepped back. Of course he needed her there. What good would the condoms be otherwise?
“What the hell do you need the money for? You’re a freakin’ billionaire,” she shot back, hitting the power button on the phone. It lit up and she pulled up the emergency number already programmed into the speed dial.
“I don’t need it. I’m donating the money to feed poor families.”
That made her pause, and her thumb wavered over the send button.
“I donate to them every year, and this extra cash will open a couple more food banks.” His fingers brushed her upper arm before closing around it. He leaned down and looked into her eyes. “And more importantly bring awareness to their charity. Please, Phoebe, I want to stick this out but I can’t do it without you. You’re the backbone of Paradise . I don’t know why the producers pulled this on us, but I think they do know I’ll fail without you.”
I’ll pay off my debts, and I’ll be able to put more toward Sarah’s college fund. The mantra she’d chanted to herself since agreeing to do the stupid show passed through her mind. Jonathon seemed so sincere and his eyes held such honesty, she felt her anger withering. Warning bells cautioned her against being gullible, but she ground her teeth together, renewed determination setting her in motion.
Beyond his shoulder, she spotted neon pink hanging from a tree limb, and when she retrieved her bag, she found the flint they needed inside it. A small relief which barely touched on the discomfort. Her blisters had popped and the bottoms of her feet felt like they’d been rubbed raw. She didn’t have time to remove them, nor to relax. Jonathon got to work chopping down small trees to make the bones of their next shelter while she collected palm leaves to make their walls. Sand fleas had antagonized them on the beach, but the mosquitoes made up the hell of the island’s interior. The little pests waged constant battle with their swatting hands.
Once the shelter was completed, Jonathon went in search of food, while she got a fire started. Phoebe plopped down by the campfire, yanked off her sandals, and studied the soles of her feet. Without ointment, she’d have to suffer until they callused over. Left alone,
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