I shrugged. For all I knew, he was setting me up to slice my throat.
He adjusted himself on his bunk, eyes not leaving me. “I was originally onOff the Wall.”
“With Vanessa. Definitely got that memo.”
“After school, I got a finance job right whenOTWwas casting. It was kismet. Fish jumping, high cotton, supermodels in champagne rooms, the Manhattan dream.” So reality TV snapped up PB out of college too, an echo of my own past that wasn’t lost on me. Nonetheless, I wanted to prove he wasn’t the only one reading the room.
“Supermodels,” I repeated pointedly. “Is that when you dated Jiamin?”
His veneer cracked for barely a breath. “That’s when we gotengaged.”
“Except now you don’t speak?”
“Well, this genius wanted to impress his flashy Beijing in-laws with, dare I say, a crazy rich wedding. When I had the opportunity at the firm to make extra funds, off the books—”
“You participated in insider trading?”
“Hopping on your high horse?” He raised those eyebrows, and I didn’t press. “Anyway, the Feds came calling with an offer: immunity for tattling on the higher-ups. I also lost my FINRA license, and you can’t be on a show about traders when you’re barred from being one.”
“And Jiamin?”
“Said she could live with a thief but not a liar. VeryOcean’s Eleven.”
“I can relate,” I replied. “Sorry.”
“I don’t blame her. I was a scrappy kid from Joliet, and she was… a goddess. I still can’t believe it took her that long to jump the shark.” He clapped his hands once, onward. “So there I am, unemployed in a Tribeca loft I can’t afford, when guess what?”
I knew this song. “The phone rings.”
“Inviting me to compete for $1 million in Botswana. If I was going to be a thief and a liar, why not do it legally?”
“Jiamin was already onEndeavorthen too, wasn’t she?”
“Now he’s putting his Dartmouth degree to work.” PB smiled ruefully. “Jiamin had indeed done a couple seasons, but she quit the second she saw me, never to return. Until last week.” He shot a bitter glance at Troy.
“So, now that you’ve waltzed with the skeletons in my closet, shall we talk business?” he asked, shifting lanes. “You’ve dominated the physical stuff every time you’ve competed, but someone else always manned the political chessboard for you. You thrive with a partner. And unlike your past consiglieri, you don’t even have to blow me.”
I glared. “Vanessa didn’t provide a ringing endorsement of how you treat allies.”
“Well, it’s tough when you’re aligned with someone who refuses to be saved. I’venevervoted against her, but she always implodes and leaves me cleaning up the craters,” he said evenly. “But I’m pretty sure you know a little something about friendships that come with their own line of baggage.”
I nodded grudgingly. “Soifwe team up, what’s your plan?”
“To start, destroy Hartt and Chrissy, our resident power couple.” Hiseyes lit up as he proceeded to outline scenarios based on years of the entire cast’s voting patterns.
“Except you’re forgetting one pretty big problem.”
“See, I never said you weren’t smart.” He grinned. “How to get Hartt and Chrissy into the Trial when they have the votes locked up?”
“Let alone guarantee they’re opposite Angels who can beat them.”
“Meaning Hartt and Chrissy skate by, making the season a snoozefest. But imagine Melange beating the Botox out of her cousin, or you pummeling Bizarro-Luke to smithereens? Clash of the Fucking Titans! TV gold!” he cackled, his gaze never leaving me.
“Your genius strategical assessment is… we’re totally doomed?”
“The Alliance of the Totally Doomed,” he murmured. “Long for a hashtag, but catchy.”
I couldn’t help but wearily laugh. As hopeless as PB’s schemes seemed, it was admittedly refreshing for the game to actually feel like agameand not a gulag.
