Brandi finished her assessment, Jared sighed with relief. It was his last spot on the show for the day. He was able to slip away while Angie was still summing up. He disliked that when other people did it; it seemed to show a lack of camaraderie. But today he was dying to escape, to get away from the cameras and the almost painful consciousness of the concentrated attention of a million viewers. Ironically, he was an intensely private person, and he was already longing for his hotel room, imagining how he would put the chain on the door and collapse on his bed.
Also, although he knew it was one of the points of the show, he couldn’t help being upset when people got criticized publicly for their sexual performance. A part of him was always thinking of the person being mocked—how Benita would watch the show afterward and feel completely deflated. That was what she signed up for, he told himself as he unclipped his mike and slipped from his chair. And it’s nothing compared to what a real director would say to her, if she tried that screaming on the set. Still, a nagging feeling of self-disgust pursued him as he padded off down the beach, relaxing in direct proportion to the fading of the voices behind him. Even though it had been Valerie who “cast the first meow,” he felt implicated.
So it was all the more irritating when he heard footsteps pursuing him, and turned to see Valerie herself hurrying to catch up with him.
She had put on over her bikini a typically virginal pastel sundress with a wide, fluttery skirt. Her blond hair swept poetically behind her in the wind. Her lovely surface was belied by the overtly sadistic smile on her pretty pink lips. Now, there was someone whose feelings he would not mind hurting. If, in fact, she had any feelings. He stopped and turned to face her, crossing his arms.
“Valerie, how nice of you to follow me,” he said. “You know I never get enough of your company.”
“Now, why are you always so unkind to me?” she said. Her manner showed that she knew exactly why, and was delighting in it. “And here all I want is to help you.” She stopped a few feet away from him and stood curling her bare toes in the fine sand.
“Oh yes, you want to help me promote your career. Why not? All I have to do is fuck someone who makes me—”
“Let’s not say things we might regret.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay. I guess I’m still angry about what you did to—oh, that’s right, it was me this time. So selfish of me.”
“Jared, I don’t think we want to have an angry conversation. I came all this way to explain, because I really think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Shall we walk a little farther? I don’t think either of us wants to be overheard.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he, for one, had nothing to hide. Let everyone hear him curse her for a liar and a scheming, sadistic . . . but she was right. He didn’t want anyone to hear the full ugliness of the hatred he bore this woman. “Okay, let’s go,” he said with a churlishness that embarrassed him.
Then they were walking side by side down the beach, in a chilly silence that she seemed to enjoy. He reflected that any form of power—even the simple power to make someone else uncomfortable—was a joy to Valerie. She was the sort of person who would charm you at first, purely to enjoy the power to compel your admiration. But once you had seen through her facade, she would take an equal delight in shocking you, badgering you, harping on your weaknesses. She was as happy manipulating through pain as through love—the point was to get her own way. He had always been convinced that she remained a virgin because she had no sex drive at all. To have a sex drive would mean feeling something for someone else. Valerie was incapable.
They had moved out of earshot of the set. The only sounds were the rushing of the waves and an occasional sprinkle of laughter from farther along the beach. Jared
Also, although he knew it was one of the points of the show, he couldn’t help being upset when people got criticized publicly for their sexual performance. A part of him was always thinking of the person being mocked—how Benita would watch the show afterward and feel completely deflated. That was what she signed up for, he told himself as he unclipped his mike and slipped from his chair. And it’s nothing compared to what a real director would say to her, if she tried that screaming on the set. Still, a nagging feeling of self-disgust pursued him as he padded off down the beach, relaxing in direct proportion to the fading of the voices behind him. Even though it had been Valerie who “cast the first meow,” he felt implicated.
So it was all the more irritating when he heard footsteps pursuing him, and turned to see Valerie herself hurrying to catch up with him.
She had put on over her bikini a typically virginal pastel sundress with a wide, fluttery skirt. Her blond hair swept poetically behind her in the wind. Her lovely surface was belied by the overtly sadistic smile on her pretty pink lips. Now, there was someone whose feelings he would not mind hurting. If, in fact, she had any feelings. He stopped and turned to face her, crossing his arms.
“Valerie, how nice of you to follow me,” he said. “You know I never get enough of your company.”
“Now, why are you always so unkind to me?” she said. Her manner showed that she knew exactly why, and was delighting in it. “And here all I want is to help you.” She stopped a few feet away from him and stood curling her bare toes in the fine sand.
“Oh yes, you want to help me promote your career. Why not? All I have to do is fuck someone who makes me—”
“Let’s not say things we might regret.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay. I guess I’m still angry about what you did to—oh, that’s right, it was me this time. So selfish of me.”
“Jared, I don’t think we want to have an angry conversation. I came all this way to explain, because I really think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Shall we walk a little farther? I don’t think either of us wants to be overheard.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he, for one, had nothing to hide. Let everyone hear him curse her for a liar and a scheming, sadistic . . . but she was right. He didn’t want anyone to hear the full ugliness of the hatred he bore this woman. “Okay, let’s go,” he said with a churlishness that embarrassed him.
Then they were walking side by side down the beach, in a chilly silence that she seemed to enjoy. He reflected that any form of power—even the simple power to make someone else uncomfortable—was a joy to Valerie. She was the sort of person who would charm you at first, purely to enjoy the power to compel your admiration. But once you had seen through her facade, she would take an equal delight in shocking you, badgering you, harping on your weaknesses. She was as happy manipulating through pain as through love—the point was to get her own way. He had always been convinced that she remained a virgin because she had no sex drive at all. To have a sex drive would mean feeling something for someone else. Valerie was incapable.
They had moved out of earshot of the set. The only sounds were the rushing of the waves and an occasional sprinkle of laughter from farther along the beach. Jared
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