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There were wolf whistles from around the group, and someone made a crack about it being time for Nico to propose maybe? I was so distracted that I stammered my way through my introduction, saying something about working in science, and then sat down, loosening my sweaty hand from Nico’s as soon as I reasonably could and wiping it surreptitiously on the skirt of my red dress. I am Lyla and I have no idea what I’m doing here, was what I had really wanted to say, but it was the one thing I couldn’t admit. Fake it until you make it, I heard again inside my head. But I wasn’t a faker. I was a scientist—the absolute opposite of a faker—someone whose prime duty was to the truth. Could I really do this? Could I bullshit my way through the next two weeks? I took a gulp of my drink. It was disgustingly warm, and this time the sweetness made me shudder.
“That was so much fun!” Camille was saying. She had stood up and now she moved to the center of the circle, clapping enthusiastically as the others joined in. “I know it probably seemed a bit whirlwind, but trust me, there will be lots of opportunities to get to know each other on the island. And we have a whole evening on the boat for you to mingle. Now, before you all scatter to chat, there’s one more bit of business we need to get through—and I’m sorry about this—but we have to take your phones. And your smart watches, laptops… basically any communication devices. So if you could, um, set your out of offices and so on and then, well, pop them in here.” She gestured towards a box sitting beneath the table that had held the welcome drinks.
There was a long, shocked silence. Then Angel spoke, her voice stony.
“I am sorry, what did you say?”
“It was mentioned on the contract,” Camille said apologetically. “But, um… yes, I can appreciate we maybe should have made that a little clearer in the initial talks. Sorry, it is completely standard practice on reality TV, I assure you.”
Looking round the seating area, it seemed that I wasn’t the only person who hadn’t been aware of the rule. Santana was looking taken aback, and Dan had his arms folded in a very mulish way. It was Bayer who raised his voice over Camille’s apologies.
“It’s a fucking cheek is what it is. That’s a brand-new Apple watch, that is. It’s got all my biometric data on it. How am I gonna monitor my sleep patterns?”
“I know, I know, I’m really sorry,” Camille said again. “I really am, I thought your agents had passed all this on—but honestly, it is standard. We can’t have people communicating outside of the group, and obviously we don’t want any leaks.”
“But we all have signed an accord de confidentialité!” broke in Angel. Her accent was getting stronger with the upset. “That is what I do not understand. If you don’t trust us to say not who is won, what good will taking our phones gonna do?”
“It’s not about trust,” Camille said, looking a little desperate. “And I can assure you the devices will be totally safe. Baz is putting them in his personal safe—”
“It was on the contracts you signed,” broke in a deep voice, and turning, I saw that Baz had come around the corner of the deck and was standing, arms folded, just behind Camille. “And anyone who doesn’t like it can fuck off and I’ll sue you for breach of contract. Capiche?”
At his words, I felt a little shiver of outrage run through me. This was the first time I’d seen Baz since the Zoom call, when he’d been all sweetheart and super. The first time I’d ever met him in person, in fact. Now we were all safely signed up to his project, it was jarring how quickly he’d jumped from bonhomie to threats.
I could tell I wasn’t the only person having these thoughts. There was a mutinous silence in the room. I could see the other couples looking at each other, signaling varying degrees of irritation and alarm. Even Camille seemed to have sensed the change in mood. She was looking extremely tense. I put my hand up, and then, when Baz didn’t say anything, I coughed.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Sure.” Baz folded his arms. “Fire away, Lola.”
“Lyla,” I said firmly. I had let him get my name wrong too many times on the Zoom call. “I’ve got a laptop in my bag. I need it to do work. Can I keep that, assuming it’s not connected to the internet?”
“Sorry, no can do,” Baz said dismissively.
“I’m in the same boat,” Joel said, rather anxiously. “I mean, maybe if you don’t give us the internet password—”
Baz cut him off.
“I said, no can do. And FYI, and this goes for everyone, there will be luggage and personal searches, so don’t even think about trying to smuggle anything onto the island.”
A little hum of indignation ran around the room. The relaxed, celebratory mood had completely dissipated.
“I’ll need to call my mum,” Nico said. He had crossed his arms, and I could feel his tenseness in his biceps, pressed against mine. “And my agent. I can’t just go off-grid.”
“Oh, of course, totally,” Camille said. “And there’s, like, a whole procedure with contacts and stuff. We have a dedicated number for families to check in with, and of course if anything crucial were to happen at home, we could pass that on.”
“How do we know you’ll tell us?” said Bayer, a little sulkily. “You could just sit on the information.”
He had a point—and my respect for him went up a notch at his willingness to raise it.
“Um—I mean—” Camille looked a little desperate, and she cast an imploring look at Baz, who broke in brusquely.
“You don’t. All you have is my guarantee that if it’s something important, we’ll tell you. And if that’s not good enough for you, you can go home.”
There was another silence. I could feel a strong undercurrent of resentment running around the room, but also something else—a sense of capitulation. Because the truth was, and we all knew it, everyone was here because they wanted to be, needed to be, or because their partner did. Every single one of these couples had someone who was hoping to make it big off the back of this opportunity, and no one could afford to turn down that chance.
“Well, I guess that settles that, then,” Baz said, and he folded his arms.
Then Conor stood up. Standing, I realized he was even taller than I’d thought. He had a good six inches on Baz, and in the muted light filtering through the awning, his pale gray eyes looked almost uncanny.
