“That’s only because you work for Rachel when she goes on vacation with Robert,” she says, daring me to challenge her. “You could have time off if you really wanted it.”
And I could. I throw my arms in the air. “What’s it matter anyway? I haven’t met anyone to take time off for.”
“Not yet,” Erin replies cautiously, “but you might be pretty soon.”
For some reason, I’m no longer liking where the conversation’s heading. “How is that?”
She gets up and walks around her desk to stand in front of me, but then she gets down on her knees and takes my hands. “Oh, Allison. You know how much I love you, right?”
And just like that, I know what’s going on. “No,” I gasp, sliding my chair back. I let go of her hands and shake my head. “I know why you wanted to see me now.”
Erin clasps her hands pleadingly. “Please, Allie, you’ll be perfect for the show. We can hang out in Aruba together. Rachel already has your shifts covered.”
It all fell into place. That’s why Rachel acted so funny. “I won’t be hanging out with you,” I snap, “I’ll be with a man I don’t even know. Not to mention, on live TV.”
Erin shrugs. “It’ll be fun. Everything’s paid for. Who knows, you might meet the man of your dreams.”
I scoff. “Yeah, right.” Her lips purse and I sigh. “Not that your show won’t bring people together, I’m not saying that. It’s just … why me? It’s too embarrassing. People I know will be watching the show, including Mom and Dad.”
Erin waggles her brows. “Don’t worry, the cameras don’t follow you twenty-four-seven. If you want to have a little frisky action behind closed doors, no one will know.” She hobbles over on her knees and grabs my hands again. “Please, sis. Do this for me? It’ll be fun. I won’t ask for anything else as long as I live.”
“Somehow I don’t believe that,” I say, my voice bland.
She gives me her puppy dog eyes and pouts her lips. “Please, Allie. Did I mention all your travel expenses will be paid for?”
I didn’t even know if that was worth it. Spending two weeks with an insufferable tool will be hell. “I don’t know, Erin.”
Sighing, she gets to her feet. “Fine. You can say no to me, but you’ll have a hard time with everyone else tonight.”
I gasp. “Tonight? What are you talking about?”
A mischievous grin spreads across her face as she sits down behind her desk. “Mom and Dad are having a little get together at the house. Everyone there knows. If I failed here today, it’s their job to convince you. Apparently, Mom’s not going to let you leave until you say yes. And we both know how persuasive she can be.”
If my mom wants me to do the show, she’ll find a way to make me give in. Groaning, I hang my head and blow out a breath. There’s no way I can say no.
“Fine,” I give in, “I’ll go. Just tell me what I have to do.”
I have a strange feeling my life will never be the same after this.
2
Hudson
I look to my left. My teammate Jensen is poised and ready to go. I lift my head slightly and look at our captain. He’s holding a stopwatch in his hand and any second now, he’ll give us the signal to start. I get into position and wait for his command. He blows his whistle, it’s a short piercing sound. Jensen and I start our newest challenge—who can do the most push-ups in thirty seconds. Each time I rise, I grunt out a number, praying it matches the number my spotter is keeping. Up, down, up, down. I continue to push myself as fast as I can to pound out as many of these as possible.
“Time,” Captain yells.
Jensen collapses to the ground in a heap, panting and out of breath, while I stand and flex. I put on a good show especially in front of these guys. Truth is, my abs are screaming, my fucking arms are killing me, and my lungs are burning. I fight the urge to cough, to show any type of weakness. Still, I play it off and run my hand up and down my abs. Everyone around us cheers, and some mock Jensen. He’s always daring me to do something so he can try and prove he’s faster, stronger, or smarter but he’s rarely victorious. The only time he’s beaten me in anything was when we had a chili cook off. I was recovering from the flu and my taste buds weren’t exactly working. Everything tasted off. When I meant to pepper, I salted, which ruined my whole pot. After the failed cook-off, I vowed to never lose to another one of Jensen’s hairbrained ideas.