by Ashton Johns
“Why can I see hair? He was supposed to be groomed. Was getting him waxed all over too much to ask?”
Daisy, forced to look at my crotch area, was opening and closing her mouth like a fish, and Meredith’s assistant was clearly pleased that Daisy had screwed something up.
“This won’t work. You’re supposed to have money and portray that you care about your appearance. A guy of means does not neglect his grooming. Someone find me something else to work with?” Meredith bellowed.
Everyone began to look at each other, wondering who the lucky person would be who had an alternative outfit for me. When no one else moved, one of the guys working the lighting for the photographer wandered to a gym bag and produced a pair of boxers. Throwing them at me, he muttered, “They’re clean. Keep ‘em.”
I retreated back to the changing shade and got changed again, before presenting myself to Meredith.
“That’s better, oh genius! Designer Calvin Klein’s. Get into position please.”
Somewhat taken aback that she seemed placated and she’d actually used the word please, I wandered back to the blank background.
“Okay, man, you need to vary it up a bit, nothing too pornographic, and if she thinks you’re lacking in any area, I’m sure she’ll have us photoshop it in,” he sighed, evidently having worked with Meredith before.
Daisy suddenly seemed excessively occupied with Brody, barely glancing in my direction, whereas Meredith and her protégé were almost frothing at the mouth, until I changed position and put my hands on my hips, exposing my mother’s name tattooed on my bicep.
“What…? Wait! What the hell is that?” She pointed.
“A tattoo,” I replied, feeling my hackles rising.
“I can see that. Tattoos are part of the package that will appeal. You know what won’t? A tattoo of some bimbo’s name.”
Anger ran through my body quicker now and I was unsure how to respond. Part of me knew to simply ignore her while another, fairly big, part of me wanted to punch her. Fortunately for Meredith, she moved on quickly.
“Lydia, create a person in his backstory with the name… What does it say?”
“Shelby,” I told her through gritted teeth, trying to warn her that belittling that part of my history wasn’t going to fly.
“Better yet, give him a drunken night at college with his frat house where he wakes up with that. I don’t need a hoard of bimbos called Shelby turning up, claiming to be her, and spoiling my show.” Lydia was nodding and typing on an iPad at the same time
“I hope I can trust you better than this once you’re in the house, Daisy. I don’t like being let down.”
Once again, the assistant smiled with joy at Daisy being berated, while Daisy continued to ignore us all and focus on Brody.
“For the sake of these pictures can you fold your arms, or even one arm and cover it up with your hand? No, wait,” she squawked. “We’ll cover it with make-up for now. I don’t want any questions or paps digging around until filming is well underway.”
This woman was working my last nerve, but both myself and the make-up artist did as she asked, and like the pretentious bitch she was, Meredith declared the shoot a success and left just as quickly as she’d arrived.
“That’s a wrap,” the photographer confirmed, and I went back to the shade to put my clothes on. Daisy was astute enough to sense my bad mood, so we didn’t really speak until she was dropping me back off at my motel.
“Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.
I’d had more than enough of being in the spotlight.
“Are you okay? That woman treats you like shit, Daisy.” She flinched a bit when I verbalized the words and I immediately felt bad. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. Sometimes it’s easier to just let her think she’s won. Incidentally, she’s in a bad mood because she knows I’m a better PA than a contestant. It was planned that Lydia would be in the mansion with you. I think you get that she was going to run the inside action based on Meredith’s carefully scripted wishes.”
“Ah, and she can’t do that now without an inside bitch to manipulate things,” I replied, catching on quick.
“Exactly.”
Feeling like I’d cleared the air a bit, I bid her good night and got out of the car, understanding that Meredith was going to do anything possible to make sure the show went in the direction she desired.
Little things like me, my dog and Daisy weren’t going to get in her way or there would be hell to pay.
Seventeen
Daisy Ingles
It had been a couple of days since I’d told Mom and Pop about my ‘new job’ and Pop was still very quiet. I’d told him that everything was fine, it was part of my job and it really wasn’t me escaping from them. It truly wasn’t, but a little part of me couldn’t help looking forward to the respite from worrying about them. Then I felt guilty and said I wouldn’t do it if they didn’t want me to. It was then that Heath, my brother, dragged me into the kitchen and had his say. His take on it was that I should go and have fun and not worry about our parents.
“You know, honey,” he said with a stupid grin on his face. “Our kids are all grown up now, and we can really trust them to be home alone.”
That earned him a smack on the back on the head, for which he pulled me into a hug and rained wet kisses on my cheek.
He was right, I knew, but Mom was still getting over a major operation. A kidney transplant wasn’t like having a tooth extracted; she’d had an organ removed and a new one put in. It was no wonder I worried about her, but I decided to listen to my big brother for once. I had to admit it was kind of exciting yet absolutely petrifying all at the same time.
The thought of the cameras being on me was scary, but the idea of sharing a house with nine other women scared me so much more. I wasn’t what you’d call socially inept. I could hold a decent conversation with most people, but I hated being around large groups of women. It reminded me of my high school days, and often saw me breaking out into a sweat. I had to do this, though. I needed the money and I’d promised Kade.
Yep, and then there was Kade. He was the one who provided the little fizzle of excitement about the whole thing. Spending time with him over the last few days had been really enjoyable. He’d had a hard life, yet he never spent time complaining. He talked about it, of course, but always with fondness, never with a hint of bitterness. Plus, there was the added bonus that he was looking amazing. I’d always thought that there was a handsome man underneath all the dirt and grime, but he was actually quite beautiful, or as my mom would have said ‘swoony’. Just thinking about him made my heart do a little two-step jig, but then I remembered the tattoo. Whoever Shelby was, he obviously cared about her a great deal because he wasn’t happy that Meredith wanted him to cover it up.
Pushing thoughts of Shelby to one side, my memory banks then flashed up images of Kade in those tiny swim trunks, and the heat started rising up my neck. I knew Meredith complained about him not being waxed down there, but my goodness, did she not see what the guy was packing? Let’s just say there was no room for anything else in there. Then there were his abs; I still had to wonder how a guy who had lived on scraps and small offerings for the last three years could have such a great physique. He obviously hadn’t worked out, or at least I didn’t expect he had, so it must have been…well, just him. And, I had to say, ‘just him’ was freaking awesome.
“Daisy,” a screaming voice shouted. “Get in here, now!”
I gave a weary sigh and rolled my chair back from my desk. The sooner I had time away from her the better.
“Yes, Meredith.”
“You need to get yourself some decent clothes,” she barked without even looking up at me. She was concentrating closely on a sheet of pictures.
“Are those Kade’s pictures?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Hmm,” she muttered. “He’s fucking magnificent. I’ll give him that. Props to them for being able to make that ra
tted mane of his look millionaire playboy.”
I smiled, doing a little dance in my head. She liked what she saw and maybe wouldn’t give him a hard time after all.
“Can I look?” I asked.
Meredith lifted her head slowly and frowned at me. “Didn’t I just tell you to go and sort your damn wardrobe out?”
“Yes, Meredith. I just thought—”
“I don’t damn well pay you to think, Daisy. I pay you to be my PA, but you’ve fucking managed to get out of that one for a few weeks with your little plan with vagrant boyfriend.”
“It wasn’t a plan,” I protested, hating how dismissive she was of Kade. “I had no idea he was going to suggest it.”
“He didn’t suggest it,” Meredith snapped back. “He held me to fucking ransom.”
“He just wants a friendly face in there is all.”
She curled her lip and waved a hand at me. “Oh, just go and sort your clothes and take Lydia with you. She may not have a brain, but she has style.”
I groaned quietly. Going shopping with Lydia was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. I’d rather have spent a weekend locked in a room with Meredith than go shopping with Lydia.
“I can go on my own. I don’t need her. I do know what sort of clothes to buy.”
Meredith’s gaze raked up and down my body, taking in my denim overalls, white tank and pink Timberlands. As she reached the messy bun on my head, with a scarf tied around it in a bow, she practically gagged.
“Lydia!” she screamed. “I need you to take Daisy shopping.”
“You really are weird,” Lydia said, turning up her nose that I knew cost her daddy dearly. “Who doesn’t like Hervé Léger?”
“I didn’t say that,” I sighed. “I just said I’d feel like my insides were being shoved out of my back passage wearing something that tight.”
“God, you’re so crass.” Lydia pouted, putting the yellow bandage dress back on the rack. “What do you want? Everything I’ve suggested you’ve rolled your damn eyes at.”
I shrugged and looked around the store, turning in a circle. “I like that,” I said, pointing to a dress behind Lydia. It was pale pink, sleeveless, had cut outs at the sides and had a flirty skirt. It was really pretty, and I could wear it with the lovely cream wedge heels I’d got from a local flea market.
As she saw it, Lydia clapped her hands. “At last. Maybe you’re not such a lost cause. Zac Posen I can work with.”
She turned on her heels and started flicking through the racks of clothes, pulling things out and putting them back with an occasional cursory glance at me and then a shake of her head. Finally, she marched towards the dressing room and pulled the curtain to one side.
“Get in,” she snapped.
“Lydia, I said I liked the dress, not any of that other stuff.” I groaned, my heart sinking at the number of outfits in her arms.
“Oh, shut up and get in.” She pointed her finger to the dressing room. “And puhlease tell me you have on decent panties and a half normal bra.”
I tried to think about what I’d put on that morning and knew she would not be pleased with my panties that said ‘Wednesday’ on them. As for my bra, that was a little more grey than white, so I was sure she’d have a fit.
“Oh my God,” she squawked. “I can tell by your face, it’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”
“No one sees it except me,” I objected.
“Shit, I hate Meredith for making me do this. And I fucking hate you more for taking my place in the mansion. I should be the one getting the airtime, not some nerdy little freak like you.”
“I’m not a freak. I have my own sense of style. I just don’t follow the masses and bow down to the latest trends or current favorite designer.”
“Ah shove it, Daisy,” she snarled. “Just try the damn clothes on.”
When we left the store almost an hour later, I had to admit I had some really beautiful clothes, shoes and underwear, my favorite thing being a cute white, sleeveless shirt dress that I was darn well going to wear with my pink high tops, no matter what Lydia said.
“Can I go home now?” I asked wearily.
“No, you cannot. We’re going to the optometrist.” Lydia flounced past me, her hip knocking the mass of bags in my hand.
“Excuse me,” I called, chasing after her. “But why are we going to the optometrist?”
She looked at me and grimaced. “To get you lenses of course.”
“But I like my glasses.”
“Well I don’t, and neither does Meredith, so shove it again, Daisy.”
With that, she was gone, stalking down the sidewalk as fast as her stick thin legs and skyscraper heels would let her.
Eighteen
Meredith Hennessey
With Daisy and Lydia shopping, I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed. The two of them were the only ones in the entire damn office who had the balls to actually talk to me, and they were out in the city, forcing some fashion sense into Daisy, so I had some time.
I slammed my door shut and turned the lock before moving over to my desk. I reached inside my purse and pulled out a set of keys, unlocking the bottom drawer. When I opened it and looked down, I knew my eyes were shining with excitement because I could feel the wetness at the corners.
Hesitantly, I put my hand in and pulled out the large Hershey’s Special Dark, the King Size Caramello and the Reese’s Nutrageous. My stomach groaned at the thought of the pleasure the three bars of candy were about to bring. I thought momentarily about the cocktail dress I had to fit into that night but knew all I had to do was make myself puke a couple of times and I’d be good.
With twitching fingers, I opened the Hershey bar first, the back of my mouth tingling with anticipation. Determined to enjoy every single bite, I didn’t stuff it in as was my usual practice but broke off a couple of squares and popped the bitter, dark chocolate on my tongue. As the taste flooded my mouth, I gave an orgasmic groan.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned. “So good.”
I was about to break off some more when my office phone trilled out. No one called that number, no one except Roddy. Quickly swallowing the remainder of the chocolate already in my mouth, I picked up the receiver.
“Roddy,” I said, swallowing back some chocolaty saliva. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m checking on the progress of your next award winner,” he said, his tone bored and distracted. “Actually, what am I saying? Your first award winner.”
I let out a slow breath and flipped the receiver the bird. “It’s going great, Roddy,” I simpered. “In fact, we’re going to be ready to interview the contestants tomorrow.”
“Really? You need me to attend?” he asked, his tone much lighter at the mention of pussy.
“No. I have it covered.”
“I may just pop by. So…” He sighed. “You got a suitable bachelor?”
“Yes,” I said tightly, crossing my fingers and wincing. “Entirely suitable.”
“Name,” he commanded. “I may know him.”
“Oh, I doubt that. He’s not been around the scene much.”
Fuck it. I didn’t want him to find out about Sutton until we’d already started shooting. That way he couldn’t tell me to replace him if he found out he was a homeless guy. Too much money would have been spent and Roddy would not want to spend any more; he didn’t damn well have it for a start.
“Tell me about him,” he snapped.
I heard a chair scrape back and wondered whether Roddy’s latest bimbo had just finished giving him a blowjob and he was moving to let her out. An off-the-wall thought, I know, but not unfounded. Roddy was known for asking his PAs to do some dick taking as well as dictation. When I heard his door close, I knew I’d been right. She obviously wasn’t that good, or Roddy was a silent commer. My money was on Roddy.
“Meredith, I’m waiting!”
“Okay, I’m just pulling his file now,” I lied, shuffling some papers around on my desk. “Like I said, he’s been of
f the scene for a while, but his name’s Kade Sutton.”
“Kade Sutton,” he mused. “Nope, never heard of him. Send me a picture over. You do have pictures?”
“Yes, of course. We’ve already done the promo shots.”
“Good. Now, tell me all about him. I want to know if my money has been spent wisely.”
Thank God I’d already decided on Kade’s back-story, because if I fumbled over any of this, Roddy would know there was a problem. He was like a fucking rat sniffing out shit when you tried to get one over on him. It didn’t matter that he’d find out once production started. I knew him, he’d never let it go ahead with a homeless guy as the ‘star’. When the show aired the viewing figures would speak for themselves and he wouldn’t care whether the Sutton kid was a millionaire, homeless or even a fucking alien, but until then...
“Well,” I continued. “His parents died in a helicopter crash when he was twelve, leaving him with almost seventeen million dollars. His father was heavily into real estate, specializing in hotels. That was how he met the mother. It was the early eighties, and he was setting up a deal in Europe-Italy, I think. She was working over there through the summer.”
“And he still has that sort of money?” Roddy asked, focusing on the money. “I can’t believe someone didn’t take advantage of him as a kid.”
Yep, because that’s what Roddy would’ve done.
“It was held in trust until he was twenty-one—watertight so no one could get their hands on it. He was brought up by a family friend who also died just after Kade hit twenty-one. Once she passed, Kade decided to go off travelling, ended up in the Caribbean, and has lived there ever since. He’s been running a beach bar at an exclusive resort where only the mega rich can afford to vacation.”
I’d looked into Sutton’s background, so I knew there were no parents, just a mother and then a foster mother, who were both dead. That meant if Roddy did check up on me, my story would stand up, to a point.