The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas #7)(107)

Bree nearly tipped over her painting table as she came out of her chair. “Never beg! Never! It’ll rot your soul.”

Dr. Kristi regarded Bree with a seriousness very much at odds with her pornographic lips. “You sound as though you’re speaking from experience.”

Bree’s jaw set in its newly stubborn manner. “Ex-husband.”

“Do you want to tell us about it?” Kristi asked.

“Hey!” Temple said. “You’re my shrink.”

Kristi waved off her protest. “I work best in groups.”

And that’s what she did. For the next hour, Lucy found herself in the middle of a group therapy session that Dr. Kristi led with surprising skill. They touched on the lessons Bree had learned from her humiliating relationship with Scott as well as Temple’s need for perfection. Lucy restricted sharing the guilt she felt for hating her lobbying work so much. Dr. Kristi offered the comforting observation that more people should take a break from their ordinary lives to assess their future path. Gradually Lucy realized that Dr. Kristi was very good at what she did, one more shock in a summer filled with them.

Eventually the psychologist declared their time was up, as if this had been a regular appointment. Lucy tried to be tactful. “We don’t see this side of you on television.”

One of Kristi’s pale, beautifully shaped eyebrows arched. “Yes, the tiki hut and red bikini do tend to call my professionalism into question.”

“Why do you do it?” Bree asked.

“I suffered from bulimia when I was a teenager,” Kristi said matter-of-factly. “That’s how I ended up specializing in eating disorders. I took the job on Fat Island so I could pay off my student loans, planning to quit after the first season. But I fell in love with the money.” She crossed a long, slender leg. “I try to justify staying even though I know the producers care a lot more about giving my body camera time than showing much of the actual counseling component of the show. But our contestants have serious emotional issues, and I know if I leave, the producers won’t bother examining the credentials of the person they choose to replace me. As long as she’s blond and looks great in a bikini, they’ll hire her. So I stay.”

“Kristi thinks none of our long-term success stories would have happened without her,” Temple said tartly.

Kristi leveled her with a look. “The few long-term successes we’ve had … When Fat Island became so popular, I used the power I’d built to insist the show pay for real behavioral counseling. The contestants are a wreck after Temple’s done with them—destined for long-term failure, which I think she’s beginning to understand. Realistically, people with jobs and family can’t keep up with a two-or three-hour workout every day. And most of them can’t make a long-term commitment to healthy eating without ongoing support.”

The Evil Queen toppled. “I’m rethinking my approach, okay?”

“It’s about time.” Dr. Kristi turned to Bree. “Does knowing Temple is gay affect your opinion of Fat Island?”

“She’s too polite to tell you the truth,” Temple said.

“That’s what you think.” Bree’s red hair caught the sunlight as her chin came up. “I hated the show before, and I still hate it.”

Kristi nodded. “You see, Temple. The world won’t stop spinning because you’ve finally found the courage to live genuinely.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Temple said, but her heart wasn’t in it.

Eventually the conversation shifted to less explosive topics, and while Dr. Kristi asked to sample Bree’s new flavored honeys, Temple dragged Lucy aside. “Kristi’s attracted to Panda,” she hissed when they were out of earshot. “She’s got her eyes all over him.”

Lucy bit the inside of her lip. “Is Panda attracted to Kristi?”

“Have you looked at her? What man wouldn’t be attracted? Last night she wore her hair down, and she never does that if she’s not on camera. You need to come home right now and protect your turf.”

Lucy gazed at a completely ordinary swallowtail butterfly as if she’d never seen such a creature. “I don’t have a turf.”

“You’re an idiot,” Temple jeered.

But Lucy saw the concern in her eyes, not that she was stupid enough to mention it. “And here I thought you were turning into a kinder, gentler person.”

“Later.”

Lucy barely managed a smile.



BREE SPENT THE LATE AFTERNOON extruding more honey from the heavy frames, and she didn’t have a chance to clean up before dinner. Lucy insisted on doing the dishes afterward, and Bree put up only a cursory protest. She was heading for the shower when she overheard Mike and Toby talking on the front porch. She stopped to listen.

“I think you should ask Bree out on a date,” she heard Toby say. “I know she didn’t like you at first, but she’s changed her mind. Did you see her at dinner? She laughed at all your jokes.”

Bree moved nearer the front curtain where she could better hear Mike’s response.

“I wouldn’t make too much of it,” he said. “Lucy laughed, too.”

“But Bree laughed more,” Toby observed. “And she’s always looking at you. You should ask her to go out to dinner or something. Not to Dogs ’N’ Malts, but like to the Island Inn or someplace nice.”