Plotting to Win Read Online Free

please.”
    Obediently, they followed Mr. Brown to room five: the cozy fireplace setting.
    Felicity bit back another sigh. She could just imagine lying on that rug, a handsome Latino feeding her S’mores.
    Latino? Wait, hold up. That Victor must be mind-fucking me somehow .
    She allowed herself a quick glance in his direction. He winked.
    Oh, the nerve! He probably knew how badly she’d wanted this room. She glared and crossed her arms, not caring that she was being childish. If she was going to be in a child’s room …
    “Arnold Manning, you have room five.”
    She’d missed the drawing. Oh, well.
    They moved on to room six, and there were a lot of appreciative murmurs, not because anyone wanted the hard park bench, but because it was such a unique idea.
    “This is kind of neat.”
    “I sometimes write in my park.”
    “I’d bring my dog here.” Someone laughed.
    The room’s floor was covered with fake green grass. The park bench sat against a far wall, a large potted tree next to it. A sunny day at the park mural was painted on the opposite wall, allowing the occupant to stare at happy smiling children with their mothers, dogs chasing Frisbees, and birds catching worms.
    But the light was so bright.
    “Shit, is that a hot lamp, like, for a lizard?” Arnold again.
    “Wow. It is. Someone will need some sunglasses,” Dez agreed.
    Carmen was drawing the name this time.
    “Roy Meachum, you are in room six.”
    A few chuckles ensued. Some even slapped the poor guy on the back. Felicity hoped he’d brought some sunscreen. He was one of those really white white guys, and his hair was so short, she could see patches of skin.
    She cast him a sympathetic smile, but he merely shrugged and checked out his new cave. “I’ve survived worse. I was in the war.”
    “Thank you for your service,” Felicity murmured to him as they headed to the last room.
    She was rewarded with a genuine smile, the first real one without malice she’d received since first meeting Tiffani. Yea, Tiffani wouldn’t be aiming any more smiles her way.
    “I guess there’s no need to draw my name as I’m the last one left.” Dez’s shoulders slumped as the other contestants began to laugh.
    Felicity drew close enough and peered around shoulders until her fears were confirmed. There was no mistaking room seven for anything other than a bathroom, with its tiled floor, claw-foot tub, and toilet.
    “You got the best room, actually.” Victor slapped Dez on the back. “You can take care of business while the rest of us have to hold it.”
    “We could just borrow his room when we have to go.” Arnold guffawed.
    “Hell, no. I don’t want all of you stinking up my room.”
    This warranted more laughter. Even the judges were smiling. At least Dez was taking it with good humor. The black man merely stood there, shaking his head, a sardonic smile on his face.
    Felicity decided to join in the conversation. “Just throw a few pillows in that tub, and it will actually be more comfortable than you think. Why do you think us women love bubble baths?”
    Victor aimed his dark, hooded gaze her way, his lips curling up. Felicity’s face heated. Was he imagining her in a tub? Naked? Under bubbles?
    “Authors, you now have your assigned writing caves. These are to be your caves until the first elimination. Only then may you compete for another cave, the newly vacated one.” Ophelia was taking over again. “Now, you shall be taken to the loft, where you will all sleep, eat, and socialize during your time with us.”
    “Thank God I don’t have to sleep on the toilet!”
    Chuckling, good humor mostly restored, they followed punk girl up the stairs to what was to be their home for the next seven weeks.

Chapter Three
    The beautiful light-chocolate-skinned woman kept looking at him — probably because he kept looking at her. It was a relief to hit the stairs. Victor held back long enough to make sure she was in front of him, allowing him a delicious