Just My Luck (49 page)

A nervous laugh or two, a murmured burst of conversation at that one. Cliff began to speak again, broke off at a hand raised in the audience by the man sitting next to Scott. “Yes?”

“I’m sure I speak for all of us,” the man said, “when I ask why we were selected in groups of two. That’s never happened on
America Alive
before, as you know. I believe we’re all curious. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind enlightening us now.”

“Ah,” Cliff answered good-humoredly. “That’d be telling, wouldn’t it? We’ve got to keep you guessing a little, and the audience too, now that we’re into our fifth season.”

“When will we find out?” Scott asked abruptly, almost interrupting Cliff. “How we’re going to be divided, or whatever it is that you’re not telling us? How the game is going to be set up?”

“We’ll get into all that later,” Cliff promised. “Right now, let’s have you get to know each other a bit. Maybe you two would like to start,” he said to the man who’d spoken first. “Just tell us your names, a few words about where you’re from and what you do, why you came on the show. Besides the million dollars, of course,” he added to another laugh.

“Martin Deveraux,” the man, thin and fortyish, said.

“And Arlene Filippi,” the heavier dark-haired woman next to him cut in. “We’re from Boston,” she went on. “We’re keenly interested in the negative impact that modern technology has on personal relationships and family dynamics. In fact, we’ve set up our own home as a technology-free zone, and we try to keep our children’s life simple too. No TV, no video games, no iPods,” she said proudly. “When we heard about this show, we felt it was the perfect chance to truly experience life as our great-grandparents lived it, and to model that simpler lifestyle for the rest of the country.”

Mira heard a snort, and turned to her right to catch the devilishly dancing eye of the man sitting beside her. He raised his eyebrows comically, and she had to fight the urge to giggle. But it was their turn now, and Scott was speaking.

“I’m Scott Mitchell,” he said. “And this is my girlfriend, Grace Walker.”

“Mira, actually,” she broke in. “I prefer Mira.”

“I’m an attorney in Seattle,” Scott went on, “and . . .
Mira
,” he added after a pregnant pause, “works for a management consulting firm. I came on the show because I enjoy a challenge. And by that, I mean I enjoy winning. I’ll just warn everyone now,” he went on with a jocularity that, Mira thought with an inward squirm, probably didn’t deceive anybody, “that I’m a pretty fierce competitor, in
and
out of the courtroom. I’m in it to win it.”

The introductions went on. The couple next to them were brother and sister, it turned out, Rachel and Kevin. Lupe and Maria-Elena, Stanley and Calvin, she’d already met. The blondes, Chelsea and Melody, were former college roommates (“sorority sisters, betcha anything,” Kevin murmured beside her, forcing her to suppress another giggle), and were currently “breaking into acting” in Los Angeles. And then the two dark-haired men. Mira leaned forward to get a better look as the taller one spoke.

“Alec and Gabe Kincaid,” he said easily. “Brothers. Twin brothers, actually. San Francisco Bay Area, these days. I’m a computer geek. And Dr. McDreamy here,” he said, slapping his brother on the shoulder, “is the real deal. A real live doctor. Anybody want to break a leg or have a baby out here, Gabe’s your boy.”

That
had her sitting back in her seat with a thump. And the blondes leaning in a little closer as Gabe put up a hand in protest.

“I’m not here as a doctor,” he said. “Let’s get that clear right up front. My malpractice insurer would kill me if I started doing anything medical out there. I’m sure there’s help standing by.” He gave Cliff a quick glance that was answered with a nod. “You get a blister, I’ll take a look. Anything worse, call for help.”

Mira was still readjusting when the final couple began to introduce themselves, but looked up in surprise as she heard the woman give their names. Hank and Zara. Hank and Zara Carrington, to be exact.
Wow.
Her mouth formed the word as she exchanged a wide-eyed glance with her friendly neighbor.

Although she hadn’t yet been born during their heyday, Mira had grown up listening to the sound of Hank and Zara’s smoothly intertwined voices on the folk rock albums her mother loved. She hadn’t recognized them by sight, of course. The photos on her mother’s CDs must have been taken thirty-five or forty years earlier. Zara’s trademark long hair shone silver now, pulled back from her thin face in a braid nearly as long as Mira’s own. Beaded silver earrings drew attention to a long, graceful neck, and her body still looked lean and strong. Her face might be more weathered than it had been in her heyday, but her dark eyes shone with the same luminous glow, the nose and chin still faced the world with determination, and the laugh lines at the corners of her mouth gave mute evidence of her habitual outlook.

Hank’s face was equally lived-in. No plastic surgery for either of those too, Mira thought, and liked them the better for it. He was lean and gray as well, his features large and not handsome, but he shared the same sharpness of eye and quirk to the corners of his mouth as his wife and longtime partner. Mira hoped that, however this show was going to be arranged, she’d get to spend some time with the two of them. Because that looked like it would be a lot of fun. And who knows, they might even sing.

 “And now that we’ve done the hard part,” Cliff said after the introductions were complete, “we’re going to take a fifteen-minute break to sort out some logistics here, and give you all a little more opportunity to chat. Coffee’s over on the side wall, and I strongly advise you to take advantage of it while you can. Because your life is about to get a whole lot tougher.” He disappeared through his door again, and the group stood, headed in the general direction of the coffeepot, broke into little groups.

“Hank and Zara. Well,
that’s
pretty thrilling,” Mira’s neighbor Kevin said as they stood and waited for their turn at the coffee. Scott, she saw, was chatting to their other neighbors, the Zero Technology People, as she’d privately dubbed them. “I do love me my celebrities.”

“I’m so excited,” Mira confessed, “I’ll probably do something embarrassing like ask them for their autograph. I grew up on their songs.”

“Probably best not to say that,” Kevin’s sister Rachel laughed behind him. “That wouldn’t be too diplomatic. But by the way, what’s the deal on the name thing?”

“What name thing?”

“Yours. You renamed yourself, and your boyfriend doesn’t like it? Or what?”

“Oh. No big deal. My name’s Almira,” she said, looking around to make sure Scott wasn’t watching before adding a generous dollop of half & half to the coffee she had just poured. She turned, discovering with a start that Alec and Gabe were standing directly behind her. Only realized she was tilting her coffee cup when she felt the fiery touch of the hot liquid hitting her hand, running down her dress. She exclaimed in distress, hastily transferred her cup to the other hand and shook her right hand in the air to rid it of the scalding liquid. What an idiot. What was she, sixteen? And her dress was pale yellow. Pale yellow with brown splotches, now.
That
was attractive.

“You OK?” Alec asked her with concern. “Burn yourself?” He handed his own cup to his brother and took her hand in his, patted it dry with a napkin.

“I’m fine,” she said, fully embarrassed now. “Just clumsy. I’m all right.”

“Sure?” he persisted, still holding her hand.

“
Positive,” she said with a nervous laugh. “It just startled me.”

“You were explaining your name,” Alec said. “Or should I say, your dual personality.” His brother stood by, his dark gaze intent on her, and she felt more awkward than ever.

“Your name,” Alec prompted, finally letting go of her hand.

“Oh.” She shrugged. “They’re both my names. Almira Grace. I go by Mira, normally.”

“Almira. Princess,” Alec said. “In Arabic. Perfect.”

“How do you know that?” she asked in surprise. “It’s not exactly a common name. It was my great-grandmother’s. Old-fashioned, I know.”

“I know many things,” he said portentously. “Many useless things,” he added with a charmingly sweet smile that, Mira thought, he’d used before. And often. “But they come in handy sometimes.”

“Well, Scott doesn’t like Mira much. And he doesn’t like Almira at all. So he calls me Grace instead.”

“He refuses to call you by your
name?”
Rachel said in disbelief. “That’s not good, huh, Kevin?”

“I’d call that a major relationship red flag,” Kevin agreed. “Mr. Wrong—Here’s Your Sign. And I should know. Because, honey, I’m the world’s expert at dating Mr. Wrong.” He struck a camp attitude, hand on hip, that had Mira laughing guiltily despite his cataloging of Scott.

“And there he goes, flinging himself out of the 1885 closet,” Rachel said, putting a muscular arm around her brother and giving him a squeeze. “Ready or not, here he comes. Can’t keep a good man down.”

“I can’t imagine that’s going to be a problem here, though,” Mira said. “Not in this day and age.” She looked at Alec and Gabe, who gave almost identical shrugs. Wow. They really
were
twins.

Kevin looked at her in amusement. “You haven’t been around the block too many times, have you? I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a problem for somebody. But it’s
their
problem.”

The brothers turned away as the women Mira was already thinking of as “the blondes” approached. Rachel looked after them, then turned to Mira with a grin on her friendly face, surrounded by a riot of curly brown hair as exuberant as her personality. “They’ve covered all the bases, haven’t they?” she asked. “You’ve got your hot girls, your hot boys—” She nodded at the Kincaid brothers. “They outdid themselves there. Twins. Yum. Imagine the possibilities.” She sighed with satisfaction. “Fun times. Anyway. Your gay guy, your African-American and Hispanic contestants, your minor celebrities, your obnoxious know-it-all couple . . .”

“And the couple you’re hoping will break up onscreen,” Kevin added.

“Who’s that?” Mira asked suspiciously.

“That would be you,” he answered. “That’s why you’re on the show. Because he is
such
a tool. There has to be somebody we all love to hate, and honey, I can already tell you’re with him. That body language. Like he just can’t wait to step up and show us all how it’s done. And ‘I’m in it to win it?’ Classic.”

“Come on. He isn’t always like that,” she said defensively. “OK, that was kind of . . .”

“Arrogant?” Kevin asked. “Indicative of jerkitude?”

“Kevin,” Rachel scolded. “Stop it. You trying to make enemies already? That’s her
boyfriend.”

“He’s nervous, that’s all,” Mira said. “Most of the time, he’s a really nice guy.”

“We’ll all see soon enough,” Kevin said, clearly unconvinced. “Reality shows are all about those stress points. That’s what I love about them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Theory time,” Rachel said with a grin at Mira. “Don’t worry. You get used to it.”

“How much reality TV have you watched?” Kevin asked Mira, ignoring his sister.

“Not that much,” Mira admitted. “An episode here and there.
Survivor, The Amazing Race,
this one.
 
In the hotel room at night, when there isn’t much on.”

“Why did you come on the show, if you’re not a fan? Never mind, I can already guess. Boyfriend’s idea, and you went along with it.”

“It may have been his idea initially, but I wanted to do it too.” Had surprised herself, in fact. It hadn’t been the money. She’d just wanted to know if she could do it, if she could make it through something so tough. She’d never been camping, never participated in team sports. But somehow, she’d thought she might be able to do this.

“Kevin,” Rachel chided, “quit being bitchy.”

“Right, reality TV,” Kevin said. “If you’d watched as much as I have, you’d know that people come on the show with all these strategies of how they’re going to behave, how they’ll appear to the other contestants. And lo and behold, a week in, their true self has come out. Because no matter how hard you try, you can’t hide who you are when you’re with people 24/7. That’s what makes these shows so addictive. Especially the self-delusion part. Bet your boyfriend thinks he’s smarter than the average bear, doesn’t he? Stronger, smarter, shrewder, am I right?”

“Maybe,” Mira conceded.
Absolutely,
she thought. But Scott
was
strong and smart, and determined too. Was it so bad to have confidence in yourself? She’d always wished she felt as sure of herself as he did.

“One week,” Kevin predicted. “And everyone on the show is going to have formed their own opinion.”

Mira was grateful when Cliff called them together again after the break. She liked sharp, incisive Kevin and ebullient Rachel, but their blunt honesty had rubbed against more than a few raw nerves. Scott really wasn’t coming across well, she thought in despair. Maybe there was some way to suggest—tactfully, of course—that he dial it down. He could be charming when he tried. That was how he’d attracted her, after all.

“Now,” Cliff went on when they were assembled again, “time for a little history. The people who actually settled this area came from all over, just like all of you. Some from even farther—Scandinavia, Germany. And, like you, they came from all different backgrounds. Some knew how to farm, how to care for animals, and some didn’t have a clue. If we were really being authentic about this, we’d just dump you out there on the bare ground with some animals and a few tools and supplies, and let you fend for yourselves, sink or swim. Most of you would fail, and some of you would die. Which would be good TV, but unfortunately, these days, there are these little things we call lawyers.”

He paused with the true showman’s instinct for another laugh from his audience. “So we’re going to do this in stages. And if you’ll go back to your rooms and get packed up, we’ll get to that first stage in . . .” He looked theatrically at his watch. “Exactly half an hour. Out front. Those of you who drove in, leave your keys with Jay here, and he’ll see that your cars are stored. Otherwise, see you in thirty minutes.”