by Katie Price
‘This just … isn’t the right time for me. I’m away filming all week around the country for the girls’ at-homes. I’ll be so busy I won’t even have time to speak to my sisters, let alone … And then I’m off to Ibiza. It’s the worst possible time to start up anything with you. This has to end. Now. I’m sorry.’ It sounded much colder than she’d meant it to, but what else could she say?
Luke looked disappointed but simply shrugged and looked around for his shoes. Then he reached forward and, thinking he was reaching in to kiss her or convince her she was making a mistake, Jas darted out of the way. To her mortification, he was simply reaching behind her for his wallet on the side table.
‘I’m going to go,’ he said coolly.
Jas felt awful. She made a move to hug him goodbye but he got up quickly. ‘See you at work on Monday.’
In the space of a few minutes the atmosphere had done a complete 180-degree turn from steamy to awkward. Jas longed to kiss Luke, apologise and tell him the truth, but her logical side stopped her. They said a formal, polite goodbye and he was gone. Just like that. Jas had got what she’d wanted, she was well and truly single.
Chapter 12
Reclining in the back of a blacked-out SUV and sipping the complimentary bottle of water, Charlotte felt as if she was in a dream. Minutes earlier, she’d been greeted at Ibiza airport by a runner for Mr Right, who directed her to a waiting vehicle and instructed her that the second she got out at the villa, cameras would be on her. They were recording the new arrivals in stages throughout the day. Charlotte had no idea if she’d be the first one to arrive or the last. She didn’t know who the other girls were, where they were from or even a single thing about the Mr Right they were all competing for. She was both excited and sick with nerves. She checked her outfit once more: black Capri pants and an orange tank top. It was a casual look but showed off her flat stomach and hint of cleavage perfectly. She wondered if the other girls were also arriving in what they’d worn on the plane. She looked through her handbag for mascara, highlighter and pink lipgloss. Checking her hand mirror, she carefully applied make-up as the car drove along winding roads into the Ibizan hills. Clearly, speed limits weren’t taken too seriously here!
Charlotte gazed out of the window as they sped along. She saw the glistening blue sea below but surrounding them now were luscious green trees. The white tops of villas peeped out from the wooded areas but they were all fairly secluded. The car eventually slowed down. Peering out of the front window, Charlotte gasped as they approached gold-painted gates leading to a ginormous white villa.
‘Villa Valencia,’ announced the driver in a thick Spanish accent. Villa? It looked more like a palace! There was a fountain in front and pots of beautifully bright flowers everywhere. Charlotte took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Show time.
The front door was unlocked so she padded in, looking around for any sign of life. She’d been instructed to fight the instinct to look for the cameras, so Charlotte just took in the size and beauty of what would be her new home for the next two months. This place was gorgeous! And immaculate. Shiny stone floors, big plant pots and candles, a palatial living room with white sofas, leading to a huge kitchen of stainless steel and marble. She wondered into another living room, or cinema-room to put it more accurately, with a gigantic TV screen on one wall and cosy blue sofas, armchairs and beanbags facing it.
‘Hello?’ Charlotte called out.
‘Out here,’ a voice replied, and the sounds of laughter and women talking over each other came from another part of the seemingly endless villa, leading her outside.
‘Wow!’ Charlotte’s jaw dropped when she found the terrace. Dark brown wicker chairs, sofas and tables were dotted around, all facing the most incredible view of green hillside and the blue, cloudless sky above. Steps led down to a swimming pool, hot tub, single sunbeds, four-poster Bali beds and a shady area with table, chairs and a fitted barbecue.
Three cameras were set up and the cameramen and women behind them waved. Charlotte remembered her pep talk from Jas and tried her best not to look into the cameras and pretend they weren’t there. Easier said than done!
Five women, who were sitting on the balcony with glasses of champagne, all jumped up to greet Charlotte. A waiter in a tuxedo appeared from nowhere bearing another ice-cold glass, which she accepted gratefully.
‘Hi, I’m Alex,’ said the first woman, who had cascading black hair and glimmering green eyes. She had a coldness to her face but was beautiful and thoroughly friendly, explaining that she was a radio DJ for a local East London station and the first person to have arrived.
‘And this is Melody.’ She motioned to a woman who needed no introduction. Charlotte instantly recognised Melody Mane, a hugely successful beauty blogger who’d hit the tabloids last year because of a steamy romance with the lead singer of the boy band West Town. Melody had flawless black skin and her Afro hair was straightened and dyed red. She resembled a young Naomi Campbell. No wonder she had such a fan-following on Instagram, thought Charlotte.
‘Hi, babes,’ said Melody, planting a kiss on Charlotte’s cheek. ‘Wow, love your highlighter. Is it Bobbi Brown, right? You’ve got great cheekbones.’
Charlotte suddenly felt insecure around these glamorous women, but to her delight they all seemed genuinely nice. She was introduced to Carmel, a petite brunette with pixie-cut hair and huge brown eyes like a Disney princess; Natalie, an estate agent with glossy, tousled honey-coloured hair and a figure to die for, and Kat, a drop-dead stunning dancer from Liverpool. They chatted away about the house-of-dreams.
Within the hour, five more girls had arrived, including a social media manager, an executive assistant and a singer Charlotte recognised from the finals of a television singing competition on a rival channel last year. There really was a mix here.
Another glass of champagne down and Charlotte was starting to feel more comfortable, bonding instantly with Kat, the dancer, about exercise. Suddenly the clip-clop of heels stomped over the marble floors so loudly the entire group stopped talking and looked up.
‘I’m HERE,’ came the shrill voice of the stomper. A tall redhead appeared, wearing sky-high, snake-skin boots and a dramatic kaftan hanging more off her body than on it. Compared to the rest of the group, who were wearing denim shorts or casual dresses, she was heavily overdressed but certainly had the tall, slim figure to carry it off. Her bouncy red hair hung in loose waves down her back, pale face protected by gigantic sunglasses.
‘Gabriella Bellamy-Hughes,’ she announced, swiping a glass of champagne off the silver tray and resting one hand on her hip.
It was a bold entrance to say the least. Charlotte stretched out her hand and introduced herself, breaking the awkward silence. Gabriella pursed her lips in a tight smile, then went on to boast about her mansion in Hertfordshire and how she always stayed in villas when she was on holiday in Ibiza or St Tropez.
‘Much bigger than this one though,’ she announced, smiling. Charlotte caught the eye of the DJ, Alex, who rolled her eyes, making Charlotte giggle. Gabriella seemed a tad obnoxious, but what was it Charlotte’s mother had said before she’d left for Stansted Airport? ‘Be nice to everyone and don’t judge anyone too quickly.’ Charlotte figured that Gabriella was showing off because she was nervous. When the remaining girls arrived shortly afterwards, including Mackenzie, a publicist, Becca, a beautician, and Nysha who was a doctor, it became too busy and loud to notice any one person in particular. Just like everyone had said when she signed up for the show, Charlotte soon forgot all about the cameras.
‘Ladies, ladies!’ The crowd hushed as Jas appeared, blonde hair swept into a bun and wearing sunglasses, a red vest top and denim shorts, showing off a perfect, already tanned figure. This girl had the effortlessly cool look down to a T, thought Charlotte. She’d been following Jas’s Instagram feed ever since they’d met and had developed something of a girl-crush on her enviable wardrobe and oh-so-perfect life. If only Charlotte could be as happy and successful as
Jas was.
‘Welcome, everyone,’ she continued. ‘I’m so glad you all made it here safely. I’m sure you’re tired from the journey and excitement of being here so we’ve got a delicious buffet being prepared and plenty more prosecco. Tonight you can just chill. Tomorrow you’ll have a relaxing day by the pool, get to know each other a bit, do some interviews with me and the crew, and then in the evening there will be the first proper drinks reception where you’ll meet Mr Right. And I’m happy to reveal that his name is Dylan.’
A few gasps and excited giggles came from the contestants.
‘Yes, yes, he’s arriving tomorrow. Dylan has his own guest house to one side of the villa, with its own pool and garden. He’ll watch the footage of each and every one of you making your entrance. Trust me, ladies, he is a going to be very popular in this house! Now, you all know how this works. Every week we hold a big ceremony in the evening where Dylan hands out roses to the women he wants to stay in the competition. The contestants who don’t get a rose must leave immediately. We’ll put you on the next flight home.’
More nervous whispers from the group. Of course, this was not news to them. The rules of the competition were clear on that aspect. But they’d also been warned that rose ceremonies could happen at any time, and it wasn’t necessarily just one girl who would be sent packing. In fact, they’d all been warned to expect the unexpected, as the producers could throw in new rules and changes whenever they liked, if they thought it would spice things up. Charlotte had a feeling they would waste no time in doing so. And she was right.
‘And, ladies, there’s a slight twist I’ve introduced tomorrow. The first drinks reception isn’t a formal ceremony, but Dylan will be handing out a rose. We’re calling it the At First Sight rose and he’s going to give it to whoever has impressed him the most within the first couple of hours of meeting you all. This girl will be immune from going home after the next ceremony.’
They really weren’t wasting any time in making this a dramatic series.
Jas continued, ‘Now, there are five master bedrooms with three double beds in each of them. We’ve allocated you rooms and taken your luggage up so you can go now and find which bed is yours, unpack, then meet back here to eat. Try to ignore the cameras. We’ll be filming bits and bobs but soon enough you won’t even notice them. Off you go!’
The gaggle of women rushed off to see who they were sharing with and chatter about what sort of man they hoped Dylan would be. The rooms were massive, each with their own bathroom three times the size of Charlotte’s at home and complete with a rainforest shower and stand-alone tub. The rooms also had their own balcony with three cushioned sunbeds and a table, looking out either to the pool or to the hills, every view stunning. Charlotte found her pink suitcase next to a double bed and was delighted to discover she was sharing a room with Kat and Melody. The girls gossiped as they unpacked, freshening up their make-up before heading back down to dinner. It was now dark and the view of luscious green had been replaced with candles dotted around the lit-up swimming pool and twinkling fairy lights all over the terrace. It was the most beautiful place Charlotte had ever seen.
‘No, I don’t want my hair up. I told you, undone sexy. Undone sexy!’
‘Does anyone have a pencil sharpener for my eyeliner?’
‘Who unplugged my straighteners?’
Charlotte tried to drown out the dozen different voices coming from around the villa. Most of the contestants were running around in their underwear with rollers in their hair or fake tan drying on their arms, looking for their belongings in one of the five bedrooms with suitcases lying everywhere, clothes, shoes and make-up falling out of them. They’d spent all day sunbathing and tonight was the night they were meeting Dylan during a lavish drinks reception to be held on the terrace. The cameras would be on throughout and the women had already spent an hour getting ready. It was chaotic to say the least. The dress code was sexy and glamorous.
Charlotte had blow-dried her dark hair poker-straight so it hung just below her shoulders, going over it with GHD straighteners and spraying it with her favourite glossing hairspray. Melody kindly did her make-up and expertly applied brown and gold eyeshadow to give her a sultry smoky-eye look, often telling Charlotte what gorgeous skin she had. Afterwards, Charlotte stood ironing a floor-length mint green dress she’d bought from Miss Selfridge during an online spree with Maya. She didn’t feel the least bit bad about dipping into her savings. All the girls had been told to dress glam for these nights and were sure to look amazing, especially Gabriella who was carefully pulling a red dress out of a zipped-up Valentino suit-bag. Charlotte hoped not all the girls had designer clothes.
‘I thought my Reiss number would do the trick, I didn’t know we’d be forking out for Valentino!’ Melody nudged Charlotte and pointed to Gabriella, before turning back to chat to Nysha.
Gabriella headed straight towards them. Charlotte hoped she hadn’t heard Melody poking fun at her expensive dress.
‘Hey, what’s your name again?’ asked Gabriella, sharply.
‘It’s Charlotte. Hi. We haven’t actually properly spoken, but—’
‘Yeah, soz for being a total no-show by the pool today. I can’t be outside in the heat for too long with my pale skin.’
‘Oh, well, we were mostly sitting in the shade actually and—’
‘I had to Skype my agent, I’ve got a big audition coming up for a Hollywood film.’
‘Oh, you’re an actress, cool. Have you been in anything I would have seen? One of the EastEnders actresses goes to my gym, I’ve given her training.’
‘Wow, I hope you asked for her autograph,’ said Gabriella dismissively. Charlotte frowned at the sarcastic comment. There was no need to be quite so rude.
‘Anyway, you couldn’t help me out, could you? And give this a quick steam for me? There’s a proper steamer over there. You can’t set an iron to a Valentino, of course, but I’ve already done my make-up and it will sweat out entirely if I get near the steam.’
Charlotte took in Gabriella’s perfect make-up: a subtle gold shimmer to her porcelain skin and bright red lipstick covering her full, bee-stung pout.
‘Well, I’ve had my make-up done too, Gabriella,’ Charlotte replied softly, suddenly feeling even shorter than her five foot three against Gabriella who was closer to six foot.
‘Oh, gosh! How rude of me. Ummm … you wouldn’t be a darling and do it anyway, would you? We’ve only got another fifteen minutes and I’m running soooo far behind.’
‘No, she won’t,’ came a third voice. Alex. ‘Gabriella, stop being such a diva and steam your own damn dress.’ Alex stood protectively in front of Charlotte, hands on hips, almost squaring up to Gabriella.
‘I believe this was a private conversation,’ she said, pouting.
‘Yeah, well, you should get used to the fact nothing is private around here. I don’t know what you’re used to in your castle or wherever you live, but Charlotte isn’t your private slave.’
Gabriella rolled her eyes. ‘Take a chill pill. I was just messing with the girl.’ And, with that, she flounced off, throwing Alex an evil look as she did so.
‘Thanks, I never would have had the guts to stand up to her,’ said Charlotte.
Alex smoothed down her own burgundy-coloured lace dress. ‘Yeah, well, I know we’re all meant to be competing or whatever but, where I’m from, girls look out for each other and we don’t put up with bullies.’
Charlotte had spent a lot of time talking to Alex that afternoon. She was twenty-five and had grown up on a tough council estate. In consequence she was ballsy as well as beautiful. Hanging around with musicians and rappers from her estate got her into the music industry and she had a late-night DJ slot on Capital One Extra as well as her Hoxton Radio show. Charlotte was impressed by how fiercely intelligent and interesting Alex was but she would never want to get on the wrong side of her.
‘I just can’t stand these spoilt, privileged bitches who think they can treat everyo
ne like dirt,’ Alex continued. ‘Anyway, hun, I’ve got your back.’ And with that she winked at Charlotte and turned away.
Chapter 13
The cameras rolled as all fifteen girls gathered in the livingroom area.
‘That’s it, ladies. Now all face the front,’ called Jas from behind one of the cameras. She dashed back out into the main entrance where Dylan was waiting.
‘How are you feeling? Nervous? Excited? Wondering what the hell you’ve let yourself in for?’ she asked.
‘Umm, how about all of the above?’ Dylan replied in his soft Aussie accent. He’d lived in the UK for nearly a decade since falling in love with a British actress, but still retained his accent, a trait Jas liked about him.
‘You’ll be great. Now, go in there and show them what you’ve got! Remember what we said: big intro to all of them then you work the room and just see who you gravitate to. Try to get a few minutes with each girl. In an hour we’ll get you back for a quick interview to see how it’s going.’
‘All right, here goes.’ With that, Dylan marched confidently into the living area where thirty eyes were fixed on him.
Jas knew he would be an instant hit. He was 100 per cent gorgeous, with jet-black hair and a strong jawline, the effect softened by dimples and a goofy smile. A bit too pretty for Jas’s personal taste, perhaps – she wasn’t into men who had their teeth whitened and chest waxed – but Dylan was a lovely guy and the perfect bachelor for the programme.
Jas surveyed the action and got the thumbs-up from various cameramen and Lyndsey, so she knew things were running smoothly. It was the perfect moment for a break. She stepped outside and sat by the fountain at the entrance to the villa, letting the trickling sound of water relax her. She’d barely rested over the past few weeks.
Being rushed off her feet was a welcome distraction, though, taking her mind off Richard and the horrible way she’d treated Luke. She still felt sick with guilt and regret about how that had ended and, though she’d never admit it to anyone, she thought about him and their two nights together far more than she should. She felt rotten about the way things had ended and the one time they’d run into each other since, at the Tube station near work, was awkward as hell. He had looked handsome as ever and was walking with a pretty brunette girl, courteously holding an umbrella over her head. Didn’t take him long to get over me, then, thought Jas bitterly.