by Leesa Bow
The sun’s rays shine through the rectangular opening of the old iron clad shed, silhouetting the shape of my mother. I wipe my hands on an oily rag and nod for her to come in. For as long as I can remember, she’s worn the same style floral dress that hangs loose to below her knees.
“I thought I’d find you out here.”
“Wanted to check she’s running okay.” My hand smooths over the red metal of the back wheel. “Shouldn’t have any problems with her.”
“Didn’t expect to. Sonny comes and services her twice a year.”
I glance sideways at Mum, then walk behind the tractor, inspecting every part as I pass.
Mum moves beside me. “I baked your favourite apple pie. Come on in and have some before you head off.” She pats my arm affectionately.
“Think I might take you up on your offer before I catch a look at the books.”
Her hand tightens around my forearm. “Kevin is doing a fine job keeping them up to date.” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her blue eyes, the ones my brothers and I inherited.
I nod. “Taking a look, that’s all.” I’m grateful Kevin, the local accountant, is looking out for my family but, while I’m paying him and putting a substantial amount of money into the farm, I want to make certain he’s not duping us. “I’ll take a quick shower and then I’ll be ready for some of your pie.”
Standing under the steady stream of water I tilt my head back to ease the tension in my shoulders. Besides helping out, there’s always something to fix on the farm. Time escapes me out here, so I’m grateful to the daylight-saving hours because last night I didn’t come in from the fields until after eight. Mum had insisted I travel into town and have dinner at her favourite pub because Mary’s daughter—from the farm down the road—recently became got engaged. The last thing I want to do is pretend my life is great, because it’s what the locals assume.
As a hometown hero they want to talk about my success, grill me on my team, other players, and inside gossip. It’s one reason I prefer to stay in when I come home. Seeing my mother and brothers takes priority. Since last night was prime time for parties, my brothers didn’t feel the same way, because no way in hell were they staying home on a Saturday night, even for me. Mum and I sat in front of the television and talked about my suspension, and Contest. Somehow, I managed to escape her usual interrogation. One where the same question always arises: Is there a special someone you’re not telling me about?
After checking the books, I take a seat at the table, directly in line with Mum’s famous apple pie. Before the first bite reaches my lips she fires her initial question.
“What type of girls will be on the show?” Her back is turned as she fills the kettle from the sink.
“I have no idea,” I mutter. “I’ll find out soon enough since my first interview will be recorded tomorrow. It’s why I need to head off soon.” I shove pie in my mouth before the next question.
Turning around, she wipes her hands on a tea towel. Her forehead creases before she talks. “Promise me you won’t pick a girl because she’s pretty. I know what happens on those shows. How they manipulate the contestants and only give the audience snippets of the truth.”
“Mum …” She shoots me a knowing look. “I’m being coached. All the decisions don’t lie with me. The audience will also have a say. When I get days off I’ll probably come back here because the producer doesn’t want me out in public.” I hardly manage to hide the disgust in my tone. “When I do, you can’t be telling me who you think I should pick. But I might need to vent, open up and let out any frustration. Try not commenting when I do, okay?”
Mum throws the tea towel over her shoulder and folds her arms over her chest. “It’s going to be real hard watching you making a wrong choice or doing something silly on national television.”
“Something silly?” I grin at her.
“Oh, you know, kissing girls because they’ve tricked you with their beautiful faces, and their, their … big breasts. There, I said it.”
“Tricked me.” I chuckle lightly. “I’ve always been a breast man, Mum. You know that. I get it from Dad. Right back when I was with Jenny.”
“Stop that talk.”
I laugh, but I’m also comforted knowing she still wants to look out for me. “Trust me, I’m not going to end up with one of those girls. It’s all for the camera. Both of us end up with what we want. I get re-signed, and the winner receives a new car and weekly spa treatments for a year,” I say dryly. “And we both go on a romantic holiday in Bali together. It will be as romantic as I want to make it. If I like her, well, it will be a bonus.” I hold up my hand when she attempts to interrupt. “Doesn’t mean we have to sleep together.”
Mum raises her eyebrows. I’ve had cause for the imperious raised eyebrows over the years, and understand they have a language of their own.
“Didn’t say I wouldn’t, but I get a choice. And lately my choices have been smart. Have to trust me on this one. The club is expecting me to do the right thing, play the gentleman, and win back the confidence of the fans and the club.”
Mum nods slowly. “I trust you. It’s those people who give you advice and try to influence you I don’t. Been a lot of them over the years …” her voice trails away but she doesn’t add anything else.
I finish the pie on my plate before I speak again, “I’m working with a girl. She’s tough on me and I like it. Like that she’s making me think about my decisions. I think she’ll make me look good on the screen even if I’m acting like a douche.”
Mum eyes me carefully. “You like this girl?”
“I trust her,” I clarify. “Lately there are only a few people I’d put in that category, so don’t look for more because there’s no chance of anything happening. She follows protocol like she’s in the damn army reserves.”
“You could learn a thing or two from her.” Mum goes about making her cup of tea.
“Maybe. And she could probably learn a thing or two from me.”
Mum shoots me a look from over her shoulder. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” Mum leans back and rests her hips on the sink before taking a sip of her tea. “You should bring her here.”
“To the farm?” My voice rises on “farm.”
“Yes. Here. Why not? If she’s as highly strung as you say, it would be good for her to come and relax. She could coach you from here. You know, on your days off from the set.”
“For one, I know her family lives in Melbourne so she might want to go home on weekends.” Mum gives me another look so I add, “I know because she sent me a text telling me she was heading there but I could still contact her if needed. Two, she’s a city girl, and I can’t imagine her getting dirty hands. And she’s a bit stuck up. Not sure you’d like her.”
“I already like her, and I don’t believe she wouldn’t enjoy being here. She’d take a while to get used to it, but if she wants what’s best for you then I’m sure she’d make the trip.”
I twirl the spoon in my fingers, thinking about my mother’s words, imagining Tori here, in casual clothes, relaxing with me. My stomach clenches knowing how uncomfortable she’d be out here, and how I would feel having her in my private space, my sacred territory.
“Maybe. I’m not fond of the idea of bringing girls home.”
“None you cared about, son.”
TORI
A meeting for the entire cast is held Monday morning. Grant briefed me that it would consist of a short introduction, and a run-down of binding contracts. It’s the first time the contestants will meet Rhett. Contest is different to other reality shows, with no grand introduction of Rhett at a black-tie ceremony. When Dale created Contest he wanted to downplay the beginning, so the contestants and Rhett would be comfortable, then up the drama before each elimination show. It’s like building trust, and then pulling the rug out from under their feet.
The meeting will inform the ladies about what is expected of them, and, more to the point, what will not be tolerated. The female
contestants will be informed of the rules around intimacy, and appropriate behaviour when the cameras are rolling.
It’s one minute to nine. The contestants are here and seated around the long wooden table. Everyone is here except Rhett. A hum of excitement swirls around the room in low conversation. Unlike the contestants, I’m tapping my foot, anxiously awaiting my client’s arrival. Ingrid sits at the end of the table near the girls she has signed for the show. Paige is with her girls, and already I sense rivalry brewing between the two assistant producers. The moment I pull out my phone Rhett strolls in unapologetically. Grant motions to the seat opposite me. He sits, and instantly his eyes lock with mine.
“Good morning,” I say pleasantly. “I trust you enjoyed your weekend.”
He smiles at me with an invigorated expression. “I did. How was your weekend in Melbourne?”
“Home is home,” I say flatly, and turn my attention to Grant, standing ready to address the room. Grant begins his usual speech, the one I’ve heard numerous times, to new contestants. His voice fades as my attention is drawn back to Rhett. His gaze is no longer on me, but jumping around the room as he takes in every girl seated at the table. His eyebrows pinch and his expression hardens as he stares down the table at a girl on my right. Curious, I lean forward to determine who has him frowning. It’s Sally, the curvaceous beach girl who doesn’t appear to like wearing a bra. She’s the youngest competitor and I can’t help feeling a touch sorry for her. But my sympathy dissipates when he smiles and nods. I follow his line of sight to Emma, the brunette with a girl-next-door personality.
I clutch my pen and continue to glare at the two staring at each other. When I want to throw my pen to break Rhett’s concentration, I realise what’s happening inside me. I look away, forcing green-eyed thoughts out, and reminding myself why I’m here, and what’s at stake. My phone vibrates on my hip.
It’s a text message from Dad, but I don’t open it.
My memory jolts to Mum and me, exchanging harsh words. I’ve spent years proving myself to my mother. My pen taps out a rhythm on the desk. Faster the more I think back. There’s no point getting caught up in whatever she has going on at the moment. Mum didn’t come out and say it, but Dad hinted she was going through a difficult time. Hell, everyone goes through difficult times. I’m searching for excuses for her behaviour. I’m not in competition with her, even though my promotion will mean my position at RCP will be higher than hers. I’ve demonstrated to my work colleagues that I’m reliable and trustworthy. I only wish she could see it too. My co-workers like me!
The door opens, snapping me back to the room. Patricia walks in and places a piece of paper on the table in front of every contestant. I jerk and drop my pen when someone’s boot connects with my shin. I look at Rhett since he’s the only one with legs long enough to reach mine from across the table.
Rhett tilts his head, and mouths, “What?”
I shake my head and mouth back, “Nothing.”
His forehead creases, with a little dent between his eyebrows. The way his blue eyes search mine has me changing position in my seat, and I avert my gaze, looking down at my pen. I know when his gaze shifts because I’m no longer feeling the heat. “Thank you,” I say to Patricia when she places the amendment in front of me.
I read the dot points on the following: confidentiality … ignoring the cameras … play your role … phones and/or cameras are prohibited on the set …
The bold print catches my eye.
If anyone is in a current relationship, his or her contract will be terminated.
Beginning a relationship on the outside within the duration of the series will result in the contract being terminated, and run the risk of being sued for violating the contract.
Remain out of the public eye for the duration of the series if you are not required on the set.
Always gain approval and check in with Grant, Ingrid, Paige, or Tori.
Rhett is hovering over the paper, one elbow on the table and chin resting on his palm. The same indent appears between his brows.
“If you have any questions, or a disagreement, please make time to meet with one of us later,” I say, looking at Rhett, before glancing around the table.
“It’s clear as mud,” Sally says and giggles.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Rhett says, “I’ll explain everything to you tonight.” He winks, and she giggles more.
Other girls quip about how they are also confused by some of the rules, and everyone’s joking about wanting some alone time with Rhett.
I glare at him. Then he winks at me for everyone to witness. “Sorry, ladies, need to consult with my boss first so she can turn me into the perfect gentleman for you all.”
Grant coughs, gaining everyone’s attention. “This is a perfect time to start with introductions. Rhett, you can begin by telling us a bit about yourself, and explain why you want to be part of Contest.”
“Don’t treat your training and the contestants as a joke,” I reprimand Rhett an hour later in my office. Rhett leans forward in his chair. His eyes laser me, and I feel nothing. “Don’t try and intimidate me with your pathetic glare. I expected more from you out there, and not to act like the testosterone-filled school boy who reacts every time a girl flirts with him.”
“For Christ’s sake, I was trying to get everyone to relax. You want them to feel comfortable around me, and I only have until tomorrow to do that. I thought you’d be happy everyone got along so well.”
“I’m more concerned about your image. If you act like that in front of the camera the audience will see straight through you. You’re looking for commitment, not one night. When were you last in a serious relationship?”
Rhett’s eyes grew round. “What?”
“You heard me. Clearly.” I walk around to the front of my desk and lean my rear against the edge.
“You’re serious. Fuck!” His expression turns vague. “I dated a local girl from my hometown during high school. We came to Adelaide together. I played football, and she went to university. We lasted two more years before we split.” He folds his arms and waits.
“I don’t need to know why the two of you split, but I want you to think about how you acted while you were with her. How you preferred her to behave around other guys. Think about the respect.”
Rhett eyes me. “I’m out of form since it’s been bloody eight years. But I get a sense of where you’re coming from.”
“Good. I could recommend some books for you to read.” I say it casually although I’m serious. A piece of hair falls across my face. I grab it then secure it with a pin so it’s tight in my bun. Rhett smiles, and the way he looks at me my damn nipples peak against the material of my bra. Not the ideal reaction with him so close. Nor is the warm flush creeping up my neck. To make it worse Rhett has stepped close enough I can smell his aftershave, all woody and musk, and I’m finding myself wanting to take deeper breaths just to keep his scent close. I move behind the safety of my desk and avert my attention to his personal folder open on my computer screen.
“I’m more of a hands on man. Have a drink with me tonight and I’ll practice some lines.”
Could I? Hell, I want to say yes, but I need to regain control of this working relationship because right now I’m losing direction fast. “I don’t think it’s appropriate we be seen out together. Your contract?” I give him a questioning look.
“I’ll have your permission,” he says, and grins. “Besides, I think you could do with a drink. I remember the look on your face during the meeting. Something’s upset you. If you want to talk I’m here to listen. Least I can do. Besides, I’m the perfect guy to help you relax and forget.”
He winks. It’s subtle and quick, and it does something to weaken me. “Okay.”
RHETT
After I check the time on my phone again, I accept she’s not coming.
An hour after the agreed time I’m still here drinking my third orange juice. I couldn’t drink another even if someo
ne paid me. Standing at a table alone drinking OJ is not my usual style. I must look like a bloody loser because a couple of dudes join me and talk footy for a while. They exchange looks when I say I’m waiting for someone. I recognise pity glances. They leave when I check my phone yet again.
My finger hovers over her name but I’m too proud to call. If Tori flaked out on me, the courtesy of calling belongs in her court. I drop my phone in my jeans pocket, down half my drink and turn to the door to check one last time before leaving. My gut flips when I see Tori standing there. Her honey eyes meet mine, and my heart punches out a faster beat, hoping this is more than the casual meet up we arranged. Fuck, she’s my boss and off limits, but a Neanderthal instinct inside me wants her.
“Didn’t think you were coming,” I say when she reaches me.
“Sorry. Ingrid called a meeting, and I didn’t want to mention us meeting up as an excuse to get away.”
It’s only now I realise she’s still in her office clothes. “Have you eaten?”
“Ingrid ordered pizza.” She pulls a face and I make a note never to offer her pizza. She lowers her eyes and then smiles. “Orange juice. Good choice.”
“What can I get you?”
Tori hesitates. She pulls pins from her hair and then the elastic tie, and her dark waves topple down her back and over her shoulders. Using her fingers, she massages her scalp and finger styles it to fall perfectly around her face. I’m staring, watching her every move. I reach across and grab her arm, stopping her. It’s more for my benefit because she’s bloody turning me on. “It’s fine the way it is.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh.”
“That’s a compliment.”
Her lips part and I damn well want to kiss her. But I can’t.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“I know what you need,” I say.
Her stern expression is back.
I smile, hoping she’s thinking I meant something involving her in bed. With me. “To drink.” I wink. “Trust me?”