Nothing to Hide

TWO

TWO

Roxie stood on the stairs while Drew Harvey waited on pause, presumably for the commercial break to start.

The lights came up and a woman wearing a headset rushed over to gather the five purple envelope holders.

“Come with me,” Headset Gal said, gesturing at them.

The five followed her onto the set. They wound around cameras, hopped over wires, and dodged people until they came to a side curtain leading into a wide corridor. They hurried along in double-quick time and were funneled into a bright room with white walls and a bunch of computers set up in the middle.

“Sit down and fill out what you can,” Headset Gal said. “You have twelve minutes.”

The woman shuffled out and the door was closed.

Sealed in silence, their quintet looked at each other for a few seconds.

“Jill Alcott,” the brunette opposite Roxie said.

“I don’t think they want us to make friends,” one of the guys said, rushing to seat himself at a computer.

“He’s right,” the other woman said, dashing to another terminal. “We only have twelve minutes!”

The reminder got everyone moving; her with less impetus. Curiosity won out, so Roxie took her place at a computer to see what awaited on screen. Fifty grand was nothing to sniff at. She wouldn’t mind traveling for a few months either.

The club appealed to a certain extent. At home, she and her girls went to nightclubs all the time. Every week, often more than once. Exclusive extras weren’t required to have a good time. As long as there was music and a good atmosphere, she’d have fun.

No one could see each other’s screens; the monitors had been positioned to ensure that. She guessed they shared the same questionnaire.

Name, age, marital status, occupation, number of children. Easy. Straightforward. Beyond the basic biography stuff, all of the questions were multiple choice. A quick scan revealed that in addition to three or four specific choices, every question had “all of the above” and “none of the above” as optional answers too.

Favorite color? The options were the colors of the envelopes. Roxie went with “all of the above.” Favorite ice-cream flavor and genre of music got the same response.

“Oh my God, it asks for favorite s****l position!” Jill exclaimed.

The men straightened up, encouraged by the inclusion apparently. They exchanged a look before returning to their screens, no doubt to search for the question. Roxie kept going down the list, answering questions as they were numbered.

“What do you think they’re looking for?” Jill asked. “What do the questions mean?”

“It’ll be some scientific thing, like the answers reveal a lot about us,” one of the guys said. “I’m Dale, by the way.”

Roxie didn’t think to respond to him until she noticed he was looking right at her. “I didn’t ask the question,” she said. “Jill did.”

Smiling, he didn’t look away. “Just wanted to introduce myself.”

Creepy, but okay. Weirded out, she drew her attention back to the screen.

“I think we’re supposed to be honest,” the other, more fresh-faced, woman said. “Not try to figure it out.”

“How old are you?” Dale asked. “Are you even legal?”

She did look young.

“Bet Lomond picks her to get in her pants,” Mr. In-A-Hurry said then stood up to offer his hand to Dale. “Ron.”

“Dale,” he said again. They shook hands. “And, yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m nineteen,” the gorgeous blonde said. “I’m an adult.”

Just barely. She snorted. Oops, had that come out? Yeah, everyone was looking at her.

Clearing her throat, Roxie returned her focus to the screen.

“If he’s picking based on who he’s sexually attracted to…” Jill said. “Why are we filling out questionnaires?”

“He can’t do that,” Roxie said. “If she was already the winner, they’d have spotlighted her and been done with it.”

The others pondered for a minute, so Roxie went back to the questions.

“What’s your name?” Ron asked the young woman.

“Bree.”

“She could be a plant,” Dale said. “Sent in to throw us off.”

“You would do him though, right?” Ron asked Bree. “For fifty grand, I don’t think anyone would say no.”

Roxie was incredulous. “Do you think any studio or show could get away with prostituting the audience?”

Mystifying. Some people were… Surely everyone got to that conclusion on their own.

“We have to get through these questions,” Jill said. “I don’t think we’re supposed to talk to each other.”

“Everything is a test,” Ron said, nodding. “That’s the truth. We live in a reality TV show. Life is reality TV.”

Life was reality, not TV. Dwelling on reality was no fun for anyone. The pursuit of liberty and happiness went hand in hand, but she never worried about being watched or coerced into contrived setups. Pushing out her lips, her eyes slunk left to right. She’d never worried about it until right then anyway.

“It could be the one who answers the most questions wins,” Dale said.

“Or the fewest,” Roxie said to be contrary.

Dale was smiling at her again. Still creepy. The guy could be perfectly nice, completely harmless. But with the creepy smiling, he didn’t stand a chance.

“I bet the resort is amazing. The Bahamas, I’ve always wanted to stay at a luxury resort,” Bree said, pausing to swoon. “Zairn must live an incredible life. Imagine.”

“Endless money,” Ron said. “Endless pussy.”

What else could a man want? Women on the other hand… In her experience, men only wanted their women to have a good time if it suited them. Suited the guy that is, not the woman. Double standard. Her ex, Porter, came to mind.

Continuing with the questions, she ignored the speculation bouncing between the guys and Bree. Risqué conversation didn’t bother her, few things did, but guessing was pointless. Jill was keeping her head down too.

The conversation came to an end when the door opened and Headset Gal leaned in. “You’re done. Hit submit at the bottom and come with me.”

Roxie scrolled down and clicked submit as instructed, then fell in line with the others as they filtered out. Instead of returning the way they’d come, Headset Gal directed them the other way to continue along the corridor.

Nearby voices were muffled. Everyone they passed was silent. Her group went around a curve just as the unmistakable sound of applause rose. Each of the quintet was pushed through curtains into the glare of more bright lights.

The applause died down as her eyes adjusted to the illumination. The purple envelope posse stood at the back of the talk show set flanked by the host to one side and the couch guests to the other.

“Welcome, all!” Drew Harvey said. “We’re going to reveal our winner in one short minute. Our computer geniuses are cracking the numbers as we speak. Zairn, what do you think of the line-up?”

Inscrutable Lomond perused the line. “Some I could work with.”

With no interest in his inspection, Roxie drew her eyes away.

Drew Harvey went to gorgeous Bree first. Shocker. “What’s your name?” he asked, shoving a microphone in the young woman’s face.

“Bree.”

“What would it mean to you if you won, Bree?”

“It would be incredible! Amazing,” Bree said, vibrating with excitement.

Winning would be exciting, so long as it didn’t mean surrendering freewill. Jill seemed like a nice person and Bree would get a lot from the experience. As long as a female took the prize, it would be a good day.

Ron made some joke about being Lomond’s wingman. The audience laughed. Dale nudged her to share his eye roll. And he thought she’d appreciate it? He’d been happy to talk about ogling women with Ron earlier.

“And here it is…” the host said, returning to the side to put the microphone down. He pressed his finger to his ear, probably for effect. “We have a winner. Z, man, you ready for this?”

Drew Harvey tossed a smile his apparent friend’s way, though the playboy didn’t react. Playing it cool seemed to be Lomond’s specialty… when he wasn’t busy flaunting his ego.

“Roxie Kyst!”

Her name. Did he say her name? It flashed on a screen above the band. That was her name. Roxie had won.

Someone hugged her, then someone else.

“Congratulations, Roxie. You’re in for a wild adventure! Our other four finalists do not go home empty-handed. You get all of the other prizes, resort holiday, tickets to the opening night in New York, all the merchandise and one thousand dollars!”

Still in a daze when the embracing ended, Roxie was dumbfounded. Cheering and applause rose. Her ears rang with it as the host thanked his guests and said goodnight.