“Seems like a decent amount of time. I mean, your shower was longer than expected.”
“Stop that,” she says while snagging the envelope from me. “You know I want nothing to do with all the erotica in here.”
“Shame. You could have a lot of fun.”
“We are not here for fun, Wilder. We are here to get a job done.” She tears open the envelope and then pulls out the letter. Clearing her throat, she starts reading out loud. “‘Mr. and Mrs. Price, you are expected in cabin ten, green square, tomorrow morning at eight. Breakfast will be provided to you via room service at seven thirty, so do not be late.’”
“That’s it?” I ask.
She flips the paper over and confirms with a nod. “That’s it.”
“Hmm, I wonder what it’s going to be.”
Her lips twist to the side while she starts to think. It’s kind of cute, the way that she gets lost deep in thought, as if no one else is around.
“Oh God.” Her eyes widen.
“What?”
She turns toward me. “What if…what if all this sex stuff is a prelude to the activities we have to do? What if we have to perform our sex live?”
Expressionless, I say, “Do you really think that would happen?”
“I don’t know, Wilder. Did you expect Sanders and Ellison to come out onstage and do what I can only describe as a terrible rendition of one of the choreographed songs fromHigh School Musical?”
I snap my finger at her. “That’s why it felt familiar. You know, I couldn’t quite place it, but yes, it had a Vanessa Hudgens, Zac Efron spark to it.”
“Seriously though, what if we have to have sex?”
“One, that’s not going to happen. Two, it’s illegal. Three, consent is a real thing. They can’t force us to do anything.”
“You don’t know that,” she says, looking panicked now, her eyes going wild. “We could have joined a commune and not realized it. I just signed the papers to attend. I didn’t read the fine print. Did you read the fine print?”
“I had my lawyers read the fine print,” I say as I toss the pillow that’s between us and scoot closer so I can comfort her. I place my hand on the top of hers and rub her knuckles with my thumb. “I never sign anything without them looking at it. You have nothing to worry about.”
“It didn’t say anything about sex in there? Like…live sex or sex shows?”
“No.” I chuckle. “There was nothing in there about sex.”
“Okay.” She blows out a heavy breath. “And you’re sure? You’re so sure that you would bet your life on it?”
“Yes,” I answer. “Trust me when I say there are no sex shows at this?—”
Ding.
“What was that?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, glancing around.
Whispering, she says, “Do you think it’s a camera? Maybe they have this place miked up. I don’t think mics can pick up a lower register in the voice.” She starts talking in a deep, husky tone. “We need to come up with our own language to bypass the spying.”
“For the love of God,” I say, getting out of bed. “They do not have the cabin miked up.”
“You don’t know that,” she says, still in a deep voice. “This could be how they choose what we do every day. It could be how they knew we’d taken all the erotica merch down too. Quick, come over here, and act like we’re doing it. Maybe they’ll release us from this hellhole early because all our problems are solved.” She slaps the wall but then shakes her hand and says, “Ouch.”
“What are you doing?”
She picks up a Kama Sutra book that is on her nightstand and starts tapping it against the wall. “Oh…oh, Wilder,” she says in a girly voice. “You big, big man. Look at that…at that slayer of yours. Enormous.” She continues to tap the wall, replicating the sound of a steady headboard hitting the wall. “You’re so…full of girth and ready to explode.”
