by Leesa Bow
RHETT
The chauffeured vehicle pulls into the driveway of the hotel, and I’m out the door before the engine stops. I’m all but breaking into a sprint, striding across the lawn, though not quickly enough, when Emma calls out to me.
“Everything will be fine.” It’s an attempt to calm me, but I refuse to remain composed.
I’ve had time to mull over why I’m here, and at the end of the day nothing is more important than my family. I stop and turn to her. “This isn’t about you, Em. I appreciate your concern but I need to be alone for a while.”
She nods, her face paling. I don’t have time to deal with her. I run up the stairs to the main entrance. The reception door to my left is closed, so I bang on the door several times. Grant opens the door, and Dale is beside him.
“Come in.” Dale directs me to the phone. Both men are doing their utmost to withhold emotion from their expression. Dale rubs the back of his neck. “Talk as long as you need. Take your time. We’ll give you some privacy, but the rule remains, no talking about the show.”
I give them a curt nod, understand the rules and get that they had to say it. I dial the farm. It rings out. Shit. Then I call my mother’s mobile number. No answer.
Fuck.
I should have guessed. Mum never carries it with her. I try Dustin first, and thank fuck he answers on the first ring tone.
“Dustin!”
“Hey, man.”
“What’s going on?” My tone is impatient.
“We’re couped up in the high school.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Evacuated. We need to stay here a few more hours until it’s safe. The fires are out, but emergency services want to make sure—”
“Where’s Mum?”
“Here somewhere. Probs with the women, making coffee for everyone. I’ll go find her.”
“Thanks.” There’s a muffled sound as he walks. “Hey. How are you all holding up? How bad is it?”
“Pretty bad. Some people have lost their homes. Their farms … gone.”
“But no lives lost?” It’s more a statement than a question.
“Nah. People have been lucky. Mary’s daughter’s in the hospital with smoke inhalation, and a few others.”
I sigh loudly, then my mother’s voice is in the background, and my shoulders loosen.
“Rhett?” Her voice is surprisingly calm.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I couldn’t call earlier. How are you? I’m relieved to hear you and the boys are fine.”
“Of course we’re fine, love. I don’t want you to worry about us.” There’s something off about her tone.
“I should be there, with you.”
“No. You need to stay. It’s important you stay,” she whispers.
I grunt. “It’s fucking reality television, Mum. Just say the word—”
“You have to stay.”
My thoughts are spinning. Something is definitely off. So I come right out and say it. “Why?”
“Give me a moment.” She shuffles until I no longer hear voices. “Now, I don’t want you to panic.”
Too late. “Tell me, Mum.”
“The farm … Bob said he heard the news from an ambo who had seen the aerial footage. Most of the farms are gone, completely wiped out.” There’s sadness in her tone, but she coughs, masking it with the strength I know she has.
“And ours?”
“Can’t be certain until I see with my own eyes, but the orchard is lost. All the fruit trees burned. The fire finger took it, and part of your dad’s brother’s crops, but his irrigation system from the river preserved half his land, which saved our crops, along with the house.”
“Fuck.” The orchard was my father’s pride, and the part of the farm I wanted to nurture.
“There’s nothing you can do here. The community is rallying for a clean-up.”
“I’ll come home and help.”
“No. You’ll stay and finish the show. You will get re-signed to the Blackbirds.”
“None of it matters anymore. I want to be with you and help rebuild the farm. Determine if there are any crops I can save, any seeds—”
“Rhett, listen to me. Our family is lucky to have you in a financial position where you inject money into the farm.” My stomach clenches, acknowledging what she’s telling me. “We need you to get re-signed, and hopefully with a pay increase. This needs to be your focus. Please.” She inhales. “I don’t want to worry you, but it’s the only way we’re going to save the farm. I had already sold the expected weight of stone fruit to retailers leading up to Christmas. Our losses will be huge.”
I close my eyes and grit my teeth. I can’t think straight. I’m acutely aware of the pain pounding my left temple. “Do you need money now?”
“No. We’re lucky compared to some, and we have much to be thankful for. It’s tragic, but we’re alive, son.”
“Yeah.” My mother always finds the positive. “When I hang up I won’t hear anything else because we’re not allowed television or news, not even the radio. So if you need anything, call Grant. If you think I should be made aware of something, then call. I’ll make a point of telling Grant to make it a priority.”
“Yes, love. Of course. Like I said, I don’t want you to worry. There’s nothing you can do at the moment. But, in a month or so we’ll need money to sow.”
I swallow a large lump in my throat. “Yeah, I understand. I love you, Mum.”
“Love you too. Do what’s right, and we’ll be okay.”
Seconds after ending the call my opinion of Contest has changed course, compared to an hour ago. Contest is no longer a pain in my rear but a lifeline to my family’s future.
I head out the office to thank Grant for allowing me to call my mother, knowing I’m a pawn he can now manipulate in his fucked-up game.
RHETT
“An eviction … tonight … you’re kidding me? Do you not have a soul?” I glare at Dale. Could my week get any worse? “And Grant has agreed to this?”
“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry about your farm and all, but no one’s hurt. We have a show to think about. We need an eviction.”
“Today?” Dale might be the creator of the show, but Grant calls the shots, and I’m not sure Dale’s decision is the right one.
“While you were out playing happy families, the other girls have enjoyed being pampered. They’re all ready, and it’s only Emma and you to be styled. It shouldn’t take long, so we’ll see you upstairs in an hour.” He passes me the Corona bottle he was holding. “Drink this. It might help. The ceremony should take an hour tops, then everyone can relax by the pool with champagne and beer and be waited on hand and foot. You’ll get some downtime tomorrow.”
I shoot him a pointed look. “Except for the evictee.” I shake my head in exasperation. “How long do I have, because I have no idea who to send home.”
“It’s taken care of. Grant will be here soon to talk to you.”
“Taken care of?” My thoughts scramble as I try to comprehend what’s happening.
“It’s out of my hands, pal. Yours too, this time. Take a shower. Drink some beer. Grant will be here soon to explain.” He shoots out the door before I can ask any more questions.
This has to do with last night, I’m sure of it. Hell, I can’t even text Tor. Bloody Ingrid confiscated my phone. Seems like those damn cameras reveal more than they fucking should. I’ll be showering with my back to the camera from now on. Bastards. But I can’t say or do anything to jeopardise my contract. Truth is, I was violating it by having a phone. At least Ingrid doesn’t know who gave it to me.
My gut tightens. My future with Tori has taken the back seat again. In order to be re-signed, I have to honour my contract and stay with the winner for a few weeks after we go to Bali together. Enough time for interviews and social media follow-ups, so the show will rate well in the following season. The commitments will finish in the New Year. And I’ll be free to train with my football team.
It see
ms fool proof, except I won’t be with Tori until I have officially separated from—
Hell. I have no fucking idea.
TORI
After sitting ghostly still for the past hour while Adele paints my face, I’m still adjusting to the long, dark lashes glued to my eyelids. I’m blinking, trying to accommodate the weird sensation. At least it’s a distraction. The last twenty-four hours I’ve managed to keep busy so I don’t have to think. Because when I stop concentrating, the negative thoughts creep back in, and I’m reminded of every damn time in my life I fucked up. I spent the night mulling over the garbage, and no matter how badly I stumbled, I now realise my parents were always there for me.
It surprised me how quickly the animosity evaporated when my thoughts cleared. Mum may show her affection in an odd way, but I now realise it was her way of letting me know she had my back. She was setting an example of how to be strong, and not make the dumb decisions I would come to regret.
Mum’s generally on the money.
And Dad? Well, he’ll support me anyway. Their aim was to teach me how to stand on my own two feet, and be a strong, responsible woman. Disregarding the last couple of months, I have achieved those things.
I haven’t handed over my phone yet, so there’s still time to send a quick email.
Hi Mum and Dad,
A quick note to let you know I’ve decided to help out the producers and go on Contest as one of the contestants. Don’t worry, I’m not on the show to win. But you both need to keep this under your hat. You know the drill. Before I forfeit all communication, I wanted to warn you, so you don’t freak out when you see me in a couple of weeks on your television. Hopefully, I’ll get a promotion and be number-one assistant producer of a show called AniMate set on the Sunshine Coast. I’m excited for this show, and I’m doing all I can to impress Grant and Dale.
Anyway, this email is more about telling you both how much I love you, and even though we’ve had our differences, I understand what you were trying to teach me. I miss you both very much!
Victoria xx
I wait for the email to send, then shut down my phone.
Ingrid pushes her hand in front of my face. “Phone.”
I hand it over and smile. “A last minute message to my parents. Don’t want them to freak when they see me on television.”
“You told them you’re going on Contest?”
“Yeah. By email. They know the rules.”
Ingrid nods. She has idolised my mother for years. “You should invite her over. Wait. We could get her on the show as your ‘special family member visit.’”
“Don’t push it.”
Ingrid narrows her eyes. “She doesn’t know, does she?”
I splutter at the thought of her knowing my secret. “No. I’m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not. We all make mistakes and sometimes we do things we regret.” I look up through long lashes and realise she’s also talking about herself. “You’re doing the right thing, Tor. You’re going to make this right. For you and for him.”
“I just want it over,” I say honestly. “Then I can concentrate on AniMate.”
“Heard you’ve already closed on six girls. You’re going to make a great producer one day.”
Will I? At times I don’t think I have what it takes, because when it comes to the white lies, and exploiting people’s lives, I make myself sick with guilt. I think I’m a better mentor than producer. It’s not something I want to think about now, so I change the subject.
“How long to show time?”
“You have a couple of hours. We’ll get you to eat down here, so as soon as everyone is in the dining room, we’ll take you to your room.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
Ingrid pouts. “You’re not going on a hunger strike are you?”
I roll my eyes. “The last thing Grant wants is a contestant puking on camera. So no. I’m obviously nervous about being on television for the first time. My stomach is in knots.”
“How sweet. Remember, you’re the villain.”
“How could I forget,” I say, matching her sarcasm. “Wait. How did Rhett handle being told to evict Sally last night?”
She takes my hand for me to stand. “We need to get you in your dress. And you know I can’t reveal what’s happened on the show prior to your entrance.”
“I’m not a real contestant,” I say dryly. “At least grant me one more question. Who am I rooming beside?”
Ingrid smiles, as though I’ve missed the obvious. “Rhett, of course.”
RHETT
“Hey, I haven’t seen you smile all day.” Lucy lightly squeezes my hand. “We were all sad to see Sally go, but it’s the nature of the game.”
“You were sad?” I didn’t mean to sound abrupt. Though, I don’t care. After the surprise eviction last night, and seeing Sally’s distraught face after I told her to leave, I’m staying in my own selfish zone getting drunk.
After all, today is a free day.
“Well, yes. We’re all getting to know each other like friends, even though we’re competitors, if that makes sense. Sal was like a little sister. She just needed guidance.” Lucy shrugs.
I give Lucy’s hand a pat. “Yeah. Know what you mean. Hated how it was sprung on me, and after hearing about my parents’ farm …”
“But they’re okay, right?”
“Yeah.” I stare off into the distance, beyond the pool to the hills surrounding Adelaide. Ingrid’s voice sounds in my earpiece, telling me to get my happy on. Unenthusiastically, I raise my arm and give her the thumbs up. It might be a free day, but the damn cameras are always rolling, ready to capture the moment Grant can engineer to use as footage. “You want another beer?”
Lucy nods. “Sure. Suppose I should celebrate surviving another elimination. Never know when my time could be up.”
I stand and pause, liking the fact she’s trying to lighten my mood. “You know, you could help your cause by giving the star some special attention.”
Lucy places her drink on the table and stands beside me. “The star. And what sort of attention are we talking about here?” she purrs, and runs her fingers along the back of my neck.
“That’s a start. Body contact is always good.” I give her a wink.
She wraps her hand around my waist and steps close. “You know that wink doesn’t work on me.”
“Really,” I say, challenging her. “Because I can see in your eyes it does.”
“And what are my eyes telling you now?”
Lucy’s eyes twinkle under the spotlight. She’s playing with me. No, flirting. She’s definitely flirting. I go to say something smart when she pushes me, hard. I stumble, overbalance near the pool. She laughs again, and gives a final push so I’m falling backwards, crashing into the water, and unconsciously keeping my hands high so the bottles don’t fall into the pool. Since I’m taller than the one point five metres of water, I’ve managed to land and not get wet above my shoulders. But my suit, and designer shoes, are soaked.
The girls are all laughing.
“Bloody hell, the suit’s Armani,” Ingrid says in my earpiece. “And the shoes. Shit!”
Kaetrin walks over in her heels and bends like she’s about to jump in.
“Don’t even think about it, Kaetrin,” Ingrid yells from behind a screen.
“Here.” Kaetrin holds out her hands to take the beer bottles from me.
I hand them to her and climb out of the water. I’m smiling, and the camera is up in my face. I ignore it and walk over to Lucy, water pouring off me. “You are going to regret this.” She almost pouts. “Better watch your back. It’s going to be a long two weeks.”
Lucy’s eyes light up, realising what I’m telling her. There are only two weeks of Contest remaining. “I’d better get those beers,” she says quickly.
“We need to replace Rhett’s mic and battery,” Ingrid yells out. “And get him some dry clothes.”
Paige is beside me, tugging at my microp
hone and battery pack, secured behind my back. It’s a relief not to have Grant’s and Ingrid’s voices in my ear, even if temporarily. “Strip,” Paige says.
“Here?”
Paige laughs. “Like you don’t love everyone looking at your ripped body.”
“Paige, you flatter me. Is it what they want?” I tilt my head towards Grant and Ingrid.
“Maybe.”
“I’ll improvise until you get my clothes and another mic.” I slide over to the where the girls are seated and slip my jacket down my arms and toss it at Kaetrin. Water sprays everywhere and she screams.
“Hey, I tried to help you,” she says and laughs.
I wiggle my hips and unbutton my shirt, slide out of it in a smooth action and fling it at Emma. She screams, but I know it’s in delight.
“We need music,” Fleur calls out.
With no earpiece to hear directions I have no idea if Ingrid approves of my harmless striptease. Going by the girl’s faces, it’s approved, and suddenly “Hot in Here” is loud in the background. I laugh. Yeah, I can work with Nelly. Rolling my hips, my fingers tease at the band of my trousers. I slowly unzip the fly and wiggle my arse as they pool around my ankles. I kick off my shoes as the girls shoot wolf whistles at me. Scrunching my soaked trousers, I eye each girl, watch them squirm before hurling them at Fleur. She groans, catching my trousers and flinging them aside. I spin toward Lucy, running my fingers along the elastic of my boxers, and give a subtle thrust. Lucy tilts her head and arches a brow. The other girls are calling out, egging me on.
We all need a bit of fun today, and I know Grant can edit the rolls.
Dismissing any doubt, I dance closer to Lucy, and the girls are laughing hard, so hard some of them are coughing. Lucy shakes her head, warning me. With a quick wink, I remove the beer glasses from her hands and then take both her hands and dance backwards in the direction of the pool.
“This is a designer dress,” she whispers, and I assume Ingrid has shouted a warning.
“Then take it off,” I demand.