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“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said testily. “Just tell everyone I need a few minutes.” Maire got to her feet and started toward the maze’s exit. “Hey, Maire,” Samuel called after her and she turned. “It’s good to know you’d come back for me.”
Maire had no response to this. She understood what Samuel was getting at. His words weren’t meant to be a compliment. They were an accusation.
She stepped from the maze to find Fern and the others waiting for her. “So how about it, Maire?” Fern asked. “Are you going to share your clue with the others?”
Maire had always been the nice one. The one to go with the flow, to let others lead her and guide her, and she always listened. And where had it gotten her? No, she was tired of being the nice one. She was here to win ten million dollars and to do it, she’d have to do it alone.
“No, Fern,” Maire said, still trying to catch her breath. “I think I’m keeping this for myself.”
ELEVEN
MarketingMama sat on her bed, iPad propped up on her lap, her phone and a margarita in hand as she waited. She just received the alert on her phone that One Lucky Winner was about to come on. There was so much secrecy and intrigue around the show that TikTok was exploding with theories. The contestants were going to be celebrities or maybe nobodies who were desperate for money. Some said it was all hype and the show was just another typical reality show where downtrodden losers were vying for their fifteen minutes of fame. No one really knew and if they said they did, they were lying.
MarketingMama was dying to find out if the show lived up to all the buzz. As a marketing exec for an online ice-cream vendor, The Inside Scoop, which shipped premium pints of ice cream all over the United States, she was always on the hunt for ways to position the company. Finding the hot trends was key. Buyers could personalize the ice-cream flavors and cartons—perfect for birthdays, get-well-soon and congratulatory gifts, and so much more. If the show was as big as everyone said it was and she could get The Inside Scoop ad space on the show, it would be huge for the brand.
The hashtag #oneluckywinner was trending and some of her favorite celebs were sure to be live tweeting the premiere episode. She could just picture Tom Hanks ordering some Mango Margo-Rita ice cream for Rita Wilson’s birthday. Or maybe Taylor Swift would order cases of Midnights Chocolate Chunk for her crew.
The premise was definitely unique. Five strangers, ten million dollars, and an unpredictable livestream. Instead of tuning in at a set date and time, viewers waited for an alert as to when the livestream was starting, then they watched. No one knew if there was going to be one livestream a night, two, or maybe even zero.
The kids were already in bed and MarketingMama and her husband waited. Minutes then hours passed, along with two more margaritas. Finally her husband gave up and wandered off to bed. She dozed, then woke with a start. Maybe there wouldn’t be an alert tonight.
Finally, at 1:00 a.m. her phone pinged with the alert. Blearily, MarketingMama poked the link and dramatic music filled her ears while an aerial view of a Tuscan-looking estate filled her screen. The opening sequence showed snapshots of each of the contestants. The stunning brunette was referred to as the Confidante, the man with a goatee was the Boyfriend, the redhead was the Best Friend, and the oldest competitor was the Senator. She nearly fell off the couch when she saw the final image of the man wearing hip glasses and a devastating smile. Ned Bennett. The Executive.
A cold sweat erupted across her skin and any of the lingering effects of the tequila vanished.
She knew Ned Bennett, though she wished she had never laid eyes on him. She’d interned for him years ago at Cold, Hard Truth, long before she was married and had kids. She was so young, so naive. At first, she had been flattered by Ned’s attention, basking in the warmth of his thousand-watt smile. But beneath the charming veneer he was a nightmare.
One day she had walked into Ned’s office and thirty minutes later she had stumbled out, disheveled and in shock. She spent the rest of the day in the restroom, hidden in a stall, crying. The next day, she returned to work only to find that her key card no longer worked. She had been fired.
Heart pounding, MarketingMama watched as a chyron scrolled across her screen. Vote to make sure your favorite challenger stays. To save the Boyfriend text 01 to 21534... To save the Senator text 05 to 21534.
Before she knew it the competition was over, and the Best Friend had emerged from the hedge maze triumphantly. The comment section on the live feed exploded.
She totally cheated! Why should she be able to have a light while everyone was running in the dark?
Too bad, so sad. The rules are there are no rules.
Oof, that poor woman in her underwear! Hasn’t she seen Big Brother? Cameras are everywhere, all the time.
Did you see the Boyfriend? He was fucking climbing on top of the maze like Spider-Man. If he’s looking for a girlfriend, I’m available.
Did you see the way she nailed him with that Taser? That was badass.
They’re hot for each other. Did you see the way they kept looking at each other before the race started?
No way! It’s the Confidante and the Boyfriend.
I hope the Boyfriend is okay? Last I saw him he was still on the ground.
Tasers hurt like hell.
The Senator used the Taser too. He is a badass. #savethesenator
The Senator is a douchebag. I’m voting for the Boyfriend.
Is this it? A maze? I mean, I thought people would be jumping out of airplanes or scaling a mountain for ten million. #EasyMoney
MarketingMama’s fingers itched to type the words, When I was nineteen years old, I was raped by Ned Bennett and discarded like trash.
