‘I’ll clear away,’ I offer, getting unsteadily to my feet after the best part of a bottle of wine.
Cam puts his hand out to steady me, and it feels like a jolt, a spark of electricity. It causes me to look wide-eyed at him.
‘I’ll do it. You head to bed, and in the morning, we can decide whether I’m sending you back home to England…’ He fixes me a stern look so that I know he hasn’t forgotten that I am here by pretence. ‘… or whether you are staying in Mexico for a shot at finding true love.’
‘Yes. True love,’ I repeat, for no reason other than I’m very, very tipsy and I want to keep talking to him for the rest of my life. I carefully enunciate every word to hide this fact. ‘Actual. Heart-stopping. Soul-melting. Sparkles-in-your-eyes. True love. That’s what I want.’
‘That’s a tall order, Mrs Cliché, but I’ll see what I can do,’ he says, giving me a sleepy half-smile. ‘Although you forgot the butterflies in the stomach and the tingles down the spine whenever they walk in the room.’
He gets it. He totally gets it.
‘I’m not a TV producer on the world’s most over-rated show for nothing. I have to warn you though, we have a very poor track record. There’s a zero point one chance of you staying with anyone you meet on the show. They all split up eventually.’
He is horribly drunk. Otherwise, he’d know that I am talking about him.
The following morning, I awake from a series of torrid dreams in a bit of a sweat. I tossed and turned. Vivid images of me making out with Cam, his delicious hot mouth on mine, his hands in places they shouldn’t be, had morphed into awful images of me drowning in the pool. In one of the dreams, I was parading down a catwalk in a crowded city centre. Me in a skimpy bikini and struggling in skyscraper heels, while everyone else is in boots, coats, hats and gloves because it is snowing and I am ridiculous, and they were laughing at me. I may as well have been a fish out of water in that dream, the meaning was so obvious.
Maybe it is a good thing that Cameron sends me back home. He is clearly not ready to move on. And even if he was, it wouldn’t be with someone like me. And there’s no point in me going on the show because I’ll get thrown off for being too dull and boring, and Josh probably won’t even know or care that I’ve been on it.
I wander through the villa to find Cam bashing away at his laptop, a slew of papers covering the table and multiple phones on the go all pinging and bleeping at once.
‘Planning a major heist? Shouldn’t we be in an abandoned warehouse?’
Cam looks up grinning. ‘Good morning. Please don’t peek at these confidential papers. I know that will be very hard for you.’
‘Cheek! I did not peek at them yesterday while you were asleep, so I’m hardly going to bother now, am I?’
He screws his eyes at me in a friendly manner.
‘Honestly, I don’t want to know. I mean why would a woman, isolated in the middle of the jungle, be curious that the man she is stuck with has over ten burner phones on the go?’
‘They are for the contestants. Each of them will get their own phone, but only to take selfies and to receive instructions to gather round the firepit from Destiny, this year’s host. On that note,’ he says. ‘I’ve reached a decision about you.’
Suddenly, my time here seems too short. It’s such a long way to come to stay stuck in a villa that could be anywhere in the world.
‘Wait. Before you tell me. Can I just say that I’m so sorry I lied to get on the show, and I’m sorry it was for the wrong reasons. I completely understand if you want to send me home.’
Cam looks at me as though weighing up whether I’m worth the hassle.
‘But can you please wait one more day to decide?’ I beg. ‘After last night… you helped me see that getting back at Josh isn’t what will make me happy. It’s petty and desperate. Moving on and never looking back will make me happy. And that’s what I intend to do.’
He raises his eyebrows. He’s curious. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms. ‘You don’t need to go on the show for that.’
‘True and that’s fine.’ I watch him get up. ‘But my sister and her fiancé won’t have had nearly enough alone time. Please let me stay here for a bit longer.’
‘You want a free holiday basically?’
I feel my cheeks glow. ‘I won’t get in your way. You won’t even notice I’m here. I won’t bother you at all while you are busy checking phones and… writing secret papers,’ I say, followinghim into the kitchen. I stand next to him as he washes his cup in the sink. ‘I’ll help with the chores.’
He has nice hands and clean manicured nails but more importantly he is thorough with the rinsing and double checks the cup, holding it up, to make sure it is super clean.
‘Look, we even do the dishes the exact same way.’
‘Fascinating,’ he says, picking up a plate to do the same.
‘I’m a primary school teacher so I’d be good company for you.’
He nods. ‘I do have a lot on. I’m not sure how much company you think I’ll need.’
