The Hating Game (34 page)

‘
Cool. Should be, like,
awesome
,’ Baz said. ‘I’ll be back in ten.’

Nate watched as
Baz banged out of the caravan. Was he telling the truth about Adam’s mental state? Nate squinted, trying to remember if he’d actually read Adam’s psychological assessment. He vaguely recalled the doctor saying he’d emailed the files and that was the last Nate had heard of it. Baz had come in, taken over all the paperwork stuff, and Nate had been more than happy to let it go. Was there something about Adam he didn’t know?

He lumbered over to th
e computer and logged onto SiniStar’s Intranet, then accessed the folder where they kept all the show’s paperwork – contracts and such. Would the psychological assessments be in with the contracts? He snuck a peek outside the window to make sure Baz was definitely gone, then double-clicked the contracts folder, humming the theme to
The Hating Game
.

Nate scrolled down past the contract between Cliff Top Holiday Park and SiniStar Productions, Ram’s filming contract, blah blah blah . . . he stopped. Jackpot! Here were the psychological assessments. He clicked on Adam’s and squinted at the screen.

Adam suffers
from heightened rejection sensitivity.

What the
hell was that? Trust the shrink to come up with some indecipherable mumbo-jumbo.

People with
rejection sensitivity suffer from low self-esteem and often depression, usually as a result of bullying as a child. They experience deep anxiety and humiliation at even the slightest rebuff and may interpret any social signal as rejection, resulting in frustration, intense anger and aggression.

Nate rubbed the stubble on his chin. That certainly sounded like Adam
’s behaviour over the past few days, from what Nate had seen.

So
according to the doctor, Adam
was
fucked up – and the ideal candidate to make sure Mattie wouldn’t make it through to the end. It was a recipe for disaster: putting a man who’d explode at a hint of rejection together with the Rejection Queen herself. No wonder Silver had wanted Adam to win those two weeks with Mattie. He looked down at the final words in Adam’s file.

To enable the patient to deal with the stress of the coming show and to stabilise behaviour, I prescribe a course
of Prozac to be taken three times daily.

Prozac? Adam? Nate had never seen Adam taking any drugs – and unfortunately he’d had to w
atch pretty much everything the contestants did. Looked like Silver really was prepared to do whatever it took to stop Mattie and Adam from making it to the end. It was bad enough to put two explosive characters together, but to tamper with someone’s sanity. . . wow! Yet another replay of Adam thrashing the rugby player ran through Nate’s mind. Without his medication, Adam could – and had – hurt others. Now Nate really
was
anxious about the plan for tonight.

He
pushed aside his worry. It was one thing to let someone outside the show get hurt, but Silver wouldn’t injure someone connected with the show, would she? She needed Adam and Mattie – at least until the sold advertising segments ran out on Friday. Counting today there were only three days left, and now that Nate knew exactly what was going on, he’d keep an eye on the two of them; make sure everything was under control.

‘
Nate! Ready to go?’ Baz burst into the caravan.

Nate logged off
the computer and got to his feet.

‘
Yes,’ he said. ‘R
eady.’

*

M
attie hadn’t thought it possible to be so bloody bored. Even listening to Stuart wax poetic about his toenails was nowhere near as dull as this.

She sighed for the millionth time and watched the rain streak down the windows of the caravan. Mid-morning on day three and there was no sign of Baz. Ram had barged in earlier, shrugging when she asked what the plan was, and telling her he only had instructions to film.

Not that there was anything for him to film. Mattie had been sitting for hours, fidgeting. The stone-aged TV didn’t work, there weren’t any books to read and Adam had been sleeping non-stop since they’d returned from the rugby field yesterday. Thank God, Mattie thought. After what she’d witnessed, the less time spent with him, the better.

Out of desperation, she and Ram had even played a few games of Crazy Eights. But even that had worn thin and
now they were just staring out at the grey sky.

‘
Hiya!’ Ba
z burst through the door looking as if he’d gulped one too many Red Bulls.

Mattie would
have loved to push him into the ever-expanding mud puddle outside the caravan, but that would involve finding energy she didn’t have. ‘Where have you been?’ Mattie asked. ‘We’re decomposing here.’

‘
Well, don’t you worry.’ Ba
z popped her patronisingly on the nose. ‘We’ve got a great Relationship Repair planned for you this evening.’

‘
Great?
’ Mattie eyed him suspiciously. ‘What is it?’ Bear baiting? Hang-gliding? She could only imagine.

‘
Do you know what the date
is today?’ Baz asked.

She
stared back at him, refusing to play his little game. Actually, she didn’t know what the date was, anyway – time seemed to stretch forever here.

‘
It’s February the fourteenth! Valentine’s Day!’ Baz did a twirl. He waited for her to respond, but she just kept staring. Valentine’s Day, so what? She shook her head, sure The TweedleDuo would conjure up some vomit-inducing romance horror show.

‘
Tonight’s activity will focus on
romance
. We’ve arranged for you and Adam to have a very romantic dinner at Carisbrooke Castle,’ he said.

Mattie didn’t react.
Dinner at a castle? Seemed rather tame. She was sure Baz had something more sinister planned.

‘
Carisbrooke Castle!’ he huffed, looking annoyed at her lack of response. ‘Built in, er, well, ages ago. The grounds are normally closed at night but they’ve opened them up just for us. We’ve laid on a lovely meal for two in the Great Hall. We’ll leave in a few hours.’ He glanced at her. ‘You might want to start getting ready now, eh?’ He sniggered.

‘
Back
off, Spaz,’ Mattie said. The nerve of him! She knew she looked a state – her hair was a mess and with all the clothes she had on to keep warm, the Michelin Man cut a svelter figure than her – but she was beyond caring. Psycho Adam didn’t deserve the effort it’d take to pretty herself up and she couldn’t give a toss about the cameras and her TV image. Funny, the real world seemed so far away she was actually beginning to forget what she did
would
end up on television.

Baz
rolled his eyes. ‘Fine, whatever.’ He turned to go.

‘
Baz, is that rugby guy
all right?’ Mattie couldn’t get the image of Adam smashing his fist in poor Aussie’s face out of her mind.

‘
Yeah, he’s okay
, don’t worry. Just a broken nose and a couple of busted ribs. No biggie. He signed a disclaimer, anyway.’

Mattie stared. No biggie? A broken nose and ribs and it was fine and dandy because of a signed disclaimer? Wait a second! She’d signed a disclaimer, too, in the packet of papers Nate had brought over with the contract. Did that mean they didn’t care what happened to her, either?

‘
See you in a bit! And Happy Valen
tine’s Day.’ Baz smirked.

‘
Happy Valentine’s Day, right,’ Mattie muttered, watching Baz run through the rain to whatever hole he’d crawled from.

God, Valentine’s Day. Before she could block it out, memories of one year ago invaded her head. She and Kyle had been working late on a big account and Kyle had snuck over to her desk with a bottle of champagne. He’d popped the cork beside her ear, nearly scaring her half to death, then swung her chair round and planted a kiss on her lips, saying he’d booked them a late dinner at Nobu – one of her all-time favourite restaurants.

She had been
starving – her stomach had grumbled at the very thought of hot food, let alone Nobu – but there was still a mountain of work to get through that night and Kyle’s expectation she could run off with him at the drop of a hat made her angry. She was just about to shove away the champagne and tell him to bugger off when he put a neatly wrapped gift on her desk.

She couldn’t help swallowing her words and smiling as she pulled off the paper to reveal a De
Beers box. Lifting the top, a gorgeous diamond Luck & Love bracelet winked at her in the dim light of the computer monitor. Kyle fastened it around her wrist and – with a tender look – told her how happy he was and how much he loved her. She’d worn that bracelet almost every day afterwards until . . .

Mattie wrapped chilly
arms around her knees and dropped her head onto them. She missed Kyle. They
had
been great together. So why had she pushed him away? She bit her lip as the realisation flooded in. She’d been scared. Scared he’d leave her . . . like her father. But what good had come of being afraid? In the end, the outcome was still the same. She was without him, whether it was her doing or not.

She shoo
k her head to dislodge the memory. She was here and Kyle was there – back in London, miles away. Even if she
did
miss him, nothing could be done now.

The sound of the rain tapping
gently at the windows made her look up. The sky was darkening from grey to black, and Mattie struggled to her feet. One thing was for sure: with Adam Android and the TweedleDuo, this would definitely be a Valentine’s Day like no other.

*

Adam pulled on a shi
rt, anger swirling inside as it became apparent how crushed it was. Stupid shirt. He beat at the fabric but the wrinkles remained. How could he woo Mattie looking like he’d just crawled out of bed? Which he had.

Glancing
down at his bruised hand, he flexed his fingers and grimaced, barely able to recall what had actually happened on the field yesterday. He just remembered feeling so angry when that bloke pawed Mattie.
His
Mattie.

He stopped
thrashing his top when he heard Baz bang inside the caravan and start blabbering on about the day’s activity. Adam cocked an ear. Oh, a Valentine’s Day dinner? At a castle? Brilliant! He couldn’t think of a better location to show Mattie his true feelings. So far she’d only seen the tough side – he could tell his show of strength on the battle-field yesterday had impressed her, despite her silence on the way back to the holiday park.

Now
it was time to demonstrate his sensitive side. He’d be caring and attentive yet still in control . . . the perfect man.

How could she resist?

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE

Half of men attribute their bad date decorum to drinking too much alcohol,

compared with
eighty percent of women.

‘
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!’ Adam said as he leaned down to kiss Mattie’s cheek. She almost choked – what was that hideous aftershave he was wearing?
Eau de loo?

But a
t least he appeared to be back to normal. His face had returned to its neutral mask, traces of yesterday’s hysteria all but gone.

‘
You look nice,’ he said.

Mattie raised her eyebrows. Had yesterday’s incident damaged his head? She looked anything but nice, although after Baz’s sniggering she had made an effort to comb her hair. Her body still bulged from all the layers she was wearing, but a long-sleeved cotton top managed to smooth out most of the lumpy contours.

‘
Come on, let’s get going,’ Baz shouted from outside the caravan, a honking horn adding extra emphasis.

She
followed Adam out into the dark night, surprised to see a gleaming limo waiting.

‘
Where’s the oh-so-romantic
Land Rover?’ Mattie asked as she crawled into the plush leather interior, closely followed by Ram. ‘Oh, look. There’s champagne too!’ She peeled off the gold foil and started twisting the top.

‘
Let me do that,’ Adam said, prying it from her grip. He opened the bottle with a flourish, handed her a glass, and then poured one for himself.

‘
I thought you didn’t drink!’ Mattie said.

Adam looked uncertain for a minute. ‘I don’t usually. But it’s a special occasi
on.’ He took a big gulp and immediately slid a battered hand over to Mattie’s thigh.

H
e was a persistent bugger, wasn’t he? She lifted it off again and plopped it onto the seat between them.

Swigging more
champagne, she realised she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since arriving on this bloody island. If ever there was a time and place for alcohol, then this was it. She poured herself another glass as the limo wound its way through dark country roads.