Jake turned back to the monitor. “Probably not, but I’d sure as hell rather work on a set with twenty-five hot bachelorettes than hang out in the jungle with you for the rest of my life. No offense.”
Grant’s mood lightened. Jake might be on to something. “No offense taken. I suppose I’d rather live in a house full of beautiful women than follow this asshat around too.” He pointed to the video monitor where Blake Rockstone had dropped from the rope and was pretending to wrestle a fifteen-foot python near the edge of a lake. The thing was totally fake. Made of rubber. They’d ordered it from Amazon. “But even so,” Grant added, “there’s a big difference between hanging out with a bunch of women and actually marrying one.”
Jake handed back the invitation. “I had no idea you were so averse to the concept of wedlock. What does Miranda think of that?”
Grant felt all the muscles in his shoulders seize up. No, he didn’t want to talk about this now, but it was evidently unavoidable. There were only thirty-five people in this camp, after all, and the news would get out soon enough. In fact, he was surprised it wasn’t already public knowledge.
“Miranda has jumped ship,” Grant said.
She hadn’t just jumped ship, though. She’d jumped from his boat into Blake’s. Of all the insults, losing a woman to that Eddie Bauer mannequin was a real kick in the groin.
Jake’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
Grant reached up and tried to squeeze the knot of tension out of his shoulder. “Blake offered her a better deal and she took it. He says he’ll make her the cohost of the show, which apparently comes with a broad range of job requirements.”
Jake leaned closer. “Are you kidding me? She’s with Blake now?”
“Well, last night after dark, she moved all of her stuff from my tent into his. So, yeah, I guess she is. He’s a big star, you know. I’m just the cinematographer. Guess being with him in front of the camera is better than being with me behind it. I was just a stepping stone on her path to fame.”
Jake’s face flushed, his voice lowered. “I’m sorry, bro. That’s lousy.”
It was lousy. His relationship with Miranda had always been more about convenience than true love, but still, he had cared about her, and she’d used him. On a humiliation scale ranging from having your fly unzipped to showing up at a bar mitzvah buck-ass naked, well, this left him feeling kind of naked. He’d be damned if he let anyone know how this left him stinging, though. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of showing his wounds.
“Well, what Miranda lacks in sensitivity she makes up for in ambition. There’s not much opportunity in a place like this for a woman like her. I guess she had to take her shot.”
Not much opportunity for him in a place like this either. He’d been thinking about that quite a bit lately, even before this debacle with Blake and Miranda. Grant was director of photography and coproducer of One Man, One Planet. He was at the top of his game professionally, but his income and reputation depended on creating a quality show, and lately Blake had been phoning it in. What had started out a few years ago as riveting television full of majestic photography and wild adventures had been reduced to close-ups of Blake eating beetles secretly made of sugar, and sound bites aimed at the lowest common intellectual denominator. They’d gone commercial, and Grant’s integrity was taking a hit. He didn’t like that. He had bigger goals for his career. And for his life.
Grant picked up the wedding invitation and read it once more. Maybe it was time for him to move on to a new phase too, just like Miranda had. Just like his brother was doing.
No. Not maybe. Definitely.
The decision was spontaneous, but he knew in his gut it was the right call.
“I’m going home,” he said as much to the jungle as to Jake.
“For the wedding?”
“Nope. For good. I’m quitting.”
Jake knocked over a canvas chair as he took a giant step closer. “Quitting? Because of Miranda? Don’t do it, bro. You can’t leave me in the jungle with Blake. You’d miss this.”
Grant stepped out from the shade of the tent into the bright sunshine. Overhead the sky was a rich, cloudless blue. The air was noisy with the clicks and chatter of the jungle, heavy with the sweet scent of sampaguita jasmine.
“It’s not about her. Not really. It’s about a lot of other things. I will miss this, but I haven’t seen my family in ages, you know? My grandfather deeded that house to me last year when he died and I haven’t even been back to see it yet. Remember? We were filming in Cambodia so I missed the funeral?”
Jake stepped into the sunlight next to him. “Then go home for a vacation, visit with your family, but don’t quit.”