With a primal scream that would guarantee an Emmy nomination on any soap opera, Harper suddenly lunges at the nearesttable, upending the elaborate dessert display by pulling the tablecloth out from under it. Chocolate in every pastry iteration, petit fours, and soufflés rain down like sugary shrapnel. And oh no—the chocolate fountain tips just enough, and before I can blink, a brown tidal wave hits the floor.
“Not this again,” Bess grunts.
“This is practically my signature move now,” Nettie says with a dark laugh.
Only she’s not responsible for the mess for once.
“WHY!” Harper screams, now attacking the ice sculpture with a serving spoon. “WHY! WHY! WHY didn’tIkill her,too?”
“Now THAT’S how you do a breakdown scene!” Marlie applauds, swooping near Harper’s tantrum with marked approval. “Someone get this woman an Emmy!”
Val makes a break for the exit, and Ransom moves with the swift efficiency of someone who’s dealt with far more dangerous situations than dessert-flinging socialites. Beth starts to dart through the crowd, and Wes intercepts her much less graceful escape attempt. And within moments, Ransom produces handcuffs and secures both confessed killers to one another.
“This is INCREDIBLE!” Boomer shouts, dancing a jig. “Who knew Trixie and Ransom would be the power couple that would bolster this show into the stratosphere? We’re talking prime time, people! PRIME TIME!”
Val, ever the professional, somehow manages to look elegant even in handcuffs. “Before you take me away,” she announces to the room, “I’d like to say something.”
“Oh, here we go,” Marlie sighs. “The obligatory villain monologue.”
“My charity did help children,” Val insists, her chin high. “Just fewer of them than reported. And I want all my fans to know that while I may have committed a regrettable act of violence, I did it while wearing Vera Verigamo andnever smudged my lipstick. That’s the kind of dedication I’ve always brought to my craft.”
Not to be outdone, Beth steps forward. “And I want everyone to know that any woman would have done what I did. When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. When life gives you wealthy, aging soap stars with considerable assets and poor nutrition habits, you make a few adjustments.” She attempts to toss her hair dramatically, though the effect is somewhat diminished by the handcuffs and the fact that she nearly collided her skull with Val’s.
“Get her good side!” Marlie directs from above the cameras. “And don’t forget the reaction shots! Reaction shots are everything in a confession scene!”
Quinn and the security team flood the Golden Compass Lounge, cutting through the room’s theatrical chaos with their menacing badges and matching navy jackets. And as they take Val and Beth into custody, Marlie floats down between the two killers.
“Amateurs,” she sniffs. “When I poisoned the governor and pushed my sister’s husband off a cliff in the same episode, I got a three-minute standing ovation and a contract extension. You two wouldn’t have lasted a sweeps week onThe Bitter and the Beautiful.”
The security team quickly escorts our confessed killers away, and that prompts Ransom to pull me close. His eyes take me in as he sighs.
“We make a great team,” he says with his voice low enough that only I can hear. “But I have to admit, I didn’t expect a double confession followed by a dessert-buffet tantrum.”
“It’s just another day on this floating paradise.” I wrap my arms around him tight. “Although I’m a little disappointed Harper didn’t turn out to be Dirk’s evil twin’s daughter with amnesia.”
“There’s always the sequel,” he suggests with a naughty smile that makes my heart race even faster than it already is.
Boomer, never one to miss an opportunity, gestures franticallyto his camera operators. “Get in close! Closer! I want to see every eyelash!”
Ransom glances at the approaching camera with a raised eyebrow. “How about we give them a show?”
Before I can respond, his lips find mine in a kiss that starts as a gentle peck but quickly becomes something that will definitely require editing for daytime television.
The room erupts in applause and wolf whistles, but I hardly notice—I’m too busy discovering that solving murders with your hot husband is apparently quite the aphrodisiac. But I already knew that. Don’t judge. It just comes with the territory.
I’m only vaguely aware of Boomer shouting something about relationship goals, and Bess telling Nettie she owes her twenty dollars.
Like the season finale ofThe Reckless and the Breathless, justice has finally been served—not with the convenient timing of commercial breaks and improbable plot twists, but with real consequences for real crimes. Okay, so a few major plot twists, too.
The cameras continue to roll as the remaining guests digest the evening’s unexpected entertainment along with what’s left of the dessert buffet, and I can’t help but think that real life, with all its messiness and complications, makes for a far more satisfying story than anything scripted for television.
Though a little scripted romance never hurts.
“Is it me, or does this room feel like it’s on fire?” I tease when we finally come up for some much-needed oxygen. The lounge feels too hot, too crowded, too full of cameras and confessions.
Ransom sheds a short-lived grin. “Come on. I know just where to cool off.”
He takes my hand and leads me through the chaos—past Boomer shouting directions to his camera crew, past Bess and Nettie arguing over their bet, past Harper still dramatically weeping over the destroyed dessert buffet and missed opportunityto commit a homicide. We slip through the side doors and out onto the exterior deck.
