by C. J. Anaya
Midge gave him a perplexed look.
“You may not have the patience for it, but you certainly have the time. Two months is plenty of time to—”
“I hear your scholarship won’t be renewed next semester.”
The change in subject caught Midge completely off-guard.
“How on earth could you possibly know that?”
“Despite your beliefs to the contrary, I do take an interest in your welfare and your personal life. You walked away from your trust fund when you refused to go into business with me. What if I offer you that trust fund back in exchange for one night of being a contestant on the show?”
Midge swallowed hard at this. Why would he offer her that? Why would he even consider going to her in the first place? What was really going on here?
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. I absolutely am. You could pay for your last semester of college and do whatever the hell you want after that. Invest it, spend it, I honestly don’t care. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones and allow our past differences to disappear if you will help me out with this glitch in my show.”
She shook her head, feeling dazed by the generous offer and the hidden strings that were most likely attached. She knew she’d be digressing if she agreed to take the money she’d turned her back on in an indignant, self-righteous huff six years ago, but she couldn’t graduate without that last semester, and despite all of her hard work, her freelance jobs wouldn’t cover her expenses.
“I want it in writing.” Her voice sounded hollow in her ears.
“What?”
“I want it in writing. I know you. I know how you are. If I do this show for you, what’s to stop you from demanding other favors and eventually roping me back into the business simply because you gave me back my trust fund? I want it written down that once I’m eliminated from the show, I get my trust fund and that’s the end of it.”
Her father’s study of her held a hint of respect, possibly admiration. She didn’t care at this point. She felt sick inside. After everything she had accomplished in order to assert herself and her independence, he had managed to find a way to pinpoint her weakness and go in for the kill. She despised being backed into a corner like this, but she simply couldn’t see a better alternative.
“I’ll have the contract written up and the money ready for transfer.” He stood, giving his usual signal of dismissal, now that their business had concluded. “I think you’ll see that this has all worked out for the best. In the end, you’ll finally get your trust fund, and I’ll get my TV show.”
“I also want my cell phone and laptop available to me.”
Her father sighed in exasperation. “You can’t go a single evening without it?”
“Dad, I’m fully aware of the way you immerse people into the reality you stage for them. No outside contact with anyone. Complete and total brainwashing when it comes to how isolated everyone is once they step onto a reality TV series. My world cannot shrink to a few rooms in a mansion even for one day.”
“Fine. I’ll allow it.”
“One more thing.”
Her father groaned and sat back down.
“I can turn my mic off whenever I want to.”
His head shot up. “Absolutely not.”
She stood up and pointed a warning finger at him.
“I will go completely insane if the only time I get a break for myself is when I’m in the bathroom. You will allow me to turn my mic off and send your cameras packing whenever I want. I am not signing up for such an enormous breach of privacy. Your methods rival that of any surveillance techniques the government has employed, illegal or otherwise, and I will not be your puppet or play to the cameras when it isn’t completely necessary. If I’m only going to be there for an evening this shouldn’t be a problem. Should it?”
Her father grimaced as he thought through her stipulations. She could almost see the wheels working in his mind as he fought for a way to insert a loophole into the contract.
“Okay, Midge girl. I accept all of your terms.”
He held out his hand as if to seal the business deal, but Midge turned on her heels and walked to the door. She rested her hand on the silver door knob for a moment, hesitating to leave before saying to her father what she’d been wanting to say for the last six years.
Making up her mind she turned around, but leaned against the door for support. She didn’t know why the tears began to fall, but they did, and at that moment she couldn’t have cared less whether her father used that weakness to his advantage or not.
“You know it was never about the trust fund right?”
“What?” he asked in surprise.
“Your money was never important to me. Your fame and your name were never the things I wanted you to share with me. I simply wanted you to know that, unlike most of the other people in your life, I was the one who really cared about you. I am the one who loved you whether there was a trust fund in the mix or not. You could have been anybody and it never would have mattered because despite who you were to others you have always been Daddy to me.” She took a steadying breath and let it out slowly. “I just wanted to be a part of your life instead of cast aside like Mom.”
Midge cleared her throat, turned around, and opened the door, leaving a depressing silence in her wake.
The minute Midge exited her father’s office, Brody quickly spun around and sat back in his seat as silently as he possibly could, but his mind clamored with ideas, possibilities, and information.
Midge was Corbin Knightly’s daughter. No wonder she’d refused to give him her full name. Madelyn Knightly had been known throughout Hollywood as the next Corbin Knightly. She was considered a savant in the industry due to some of her own projects that had been produced through Knightly’s company. She’d virtually disappeared from the public eye six years ago, but Brody remembered the fresh-faced eighteen-year-old’s picture plastered all over the news when she broke with her father. She’d certainly blossomed since then. He hadn’t even recognized her. Her hair had always been straight and blond in all of her photos, and she’d definitely had more of a baby face at that point in her life. She must have reverted back to what was most obviously her natural red hair color and curl to trip people up. It had certainly tripped him up.
And now, the woman he had planned on going to court for was going to be on Marry Your Billionaire. There was no way he planned to step down and let someone like Alexander Montgomery take his place. He didn’t want that creep to have even five minutes of alone time with Madelyn Knightly. Not that there was any reason to step down when the most interesting woman he’d ever met was going to be a contestant on the show.
His show.
He’d learned a great deal about Midge during that brief conversation she’d shared with her father. She was a trust fund baby, yet shunned the life of a pampered, spoiled rich girl, opting for a more down to earth lifestyle, walking away from a trust fund that most likely held several million dollars. The fact that she had accepted it now didn’t even faze him. Her father had basically blackmailed her into it, and her own desire to use it for something as worthwhile as a college education instead of buying a half-million dollar wardrobe or something else as equally frivolous and insane was admirable.
He’d snickered when she’d laughed outright at her father’s proposal, and he admired her quick wit and spunky personality, all of which he’d taken note of at the café, traits that had drawn him to her in the first place.
There were three things he knew with certainty.
One: Midge was no gold-digger.
Two: Midge was going to be on the show.
Three: he absolutely wanted and needed her in his life.
His thoughts were interrupted by the inward swing of the door as Knightly came barging into the room looking a bit out of sorts.
“Is everything okay?”
“What?” He sat down across the desk from Brody with a distracted air. “Never better. Now, where were we?
Oh yes, I was threatening you with financial ruin if you didn’t wizen up and see things my way.”
“To be perfectly frank, your threats did their job. I’m all in.”
Knightly’s eyes widened in surprise and then a pleased grin took over. “Marvelous. I love it when threats pan out. We’ll just pretend our previous conversation never happened and continue on like the good friends we are.”
Anyone who considered themselves good friends with Corbin Knightly was probably the type who felt comfortable swimming in a tank filled with hungry sharks.
“Gregg explained to you the necessity of my phone and laptop being with me while I’m there?”
Knightly grunted. “I’m getting tired of everyone throwing conditions at me, but yes, I understand that you still need to be able to run your business, but remember that you’re not allowed to post things or comment on social media during the filming of this series.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good. Now, I want your whole heart and soul invested in this. You better show up on the first of June anxious and raring to find true love. Are you ready to be the first star of Marry Your Billionaire? Ready to find a woman you can spend the rest of your life with?”
Brody smiled back, thinking it hilarious that this man had no idea who he intended that woman to be.
“Knightly, I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life.”
Chapter Three
Midge shared an apartment with Lisa Rassmusen, a girl with whom she’d originally had very little in common. She’d met Lisa on campus after placing an advertisement for a roommate on one of the many community boards spread throughout the vast university’s grounds. Their shared pitiful level of poverty and mutual need for an able body to split the rent had thrown them together, and since they never seemed to get in each other’s way the arrangement had become permanent.
As Midge entered the tiny apartment she took note of Lisa’s shoes on the floor. One shoe was stuffed with a pair of used socks as Lisa was prone to do—something to do with recycling foot wear in order to save money on laundry detergent. Midge shook her head and gave the shoes a rueful grin, finding Lisa’s quirky penchant for pinching pennies rather endearing. It was usually Midge’s job to make certain her roommate actually washed her socks after three uses.
Lisa had pushed for ten, but after managing to thoroughly gross out a guy she’d been dating for a few days she finally saw the wisdom in Midge’s kind suggestion and changed her OCD behavior…at least in that respect.
Lisa’s ability with computers also became a problem their first year together when she’d hacked into one of Midge’s professor’s computers to change a grade on a test that Midge had quite vocally complained about. Apparently, her roommate was a talented hacker with activities firmly located within the delinquent category.
After that one incident she made certain to never complain about her grades around Lisa again, though she warned her roommate about the evils of her online criminal activities. After Lisa claimed to be hacking into the airport’s database to secure herself a seat on a flight to her hometown in Washington, Midge begged her to never again give her the details of her online criminal adventures. Best to remain ignorant on that score.
Midge stepped over Lisa’s shoes as the need to pummel something began to dissipate. A few more deep breaths and she could almost forget about her agreement with her father and the way she’d finally sold out to the trust fund baby stigma.
One glance in the kitchen confirmed that Lisa was home. The remains of left over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches littered the table along with a couple of string cheese wrappers and a jug of orange juice.
How her roommate could be such a stickler about money while simultaneously being the ultimate slob never ceased to amaze her. She just figured penny pinching ought to go hand in hand with germaphobic tendencies. Unfortunately, that phobia belonged in Midge’s corner.
Not that it was a phobia, really. She just liked to keep things tidy and organized. Nothing wrong with disinfecting the apartment three times a week…or more. With a roommate like Lisa it tended to be mandatory.
“Lisa, are you home?” Midge entered the small, square kitchen, opened up the freezer and pulled out a Marie Calender’s microwaveable dinner. She didn’t have much of an appetite after her conversation with her father, but she needed to eat something. A loud clank carried down the hall and then a pain-filled moan soon followed. Heavy footsteps approached, and Lisa sprang into view with half of her blond hair in curlers, a toothbrush in her mouth, and a bottle of mascara in her right hand.
“Hot date tonight?” Midge smirked.
Lisa rolled her eyes heavenward, making her look even more ridiculous than she already did, and pulled the toothbrush from her mouth.
“You completely forgot the double date I set up for us tonight, didn’t you?”
“The what?” She did not like the sound of that.
“Dang it, Midge, I told you last week that Danny wanted you to meet one of his super cute, super single friends this weekend. Don’t you remember?”
“Vaguely, but what I also don’t remember is you ever giving me an actual date and time.”
“You told me to set it up, so I set it up.” Lisa paused for a moment, screwing her face into a serious frown, her thinking face as Midge liked to call it. “Okay, so maybe I forgot to mention exactly when I set it up, but we have hot dates within the next two hours so get a move on baby. We’re getting fed tonight.”
Midge groaned. “Do you think Danny has any idea that he’s the reason you haven’t starved to death over the past few months?”
“If he does he isn’t complaining.” Lisa slid her hands over her ample hips and gave them a little shake. “Not when I’m keeping him nice and warm at night.”
“Please spare me the details of your love life, Lisa. You know there are other ways to show him you appreciate him rather than jumping into his bed.”
“So I’m a kept woman. So what?”
“If only,” Midge grimaced. “If you really want to play the role of a kept woman, you need to be demanding more from this guy. Next time the plumbing breaks have him pay to fix it. Or better yet, how about he finds us a new apartment and pays our rent.”
Lisa shrugged. “You don’t mean that, Midge. You and all your talk about being independent and never relying on your father’s money to get you through college. Even if I was a kept woman, I doubt you’d ever accept a single penny from me. Speaking of…how’d the meeting with your dad go?”
Midge’s shoulders slumped. “I’m getting my trust fund back.”
Lisa’s jaw couldn’t have become further unhinged if Mohammad Ali had sucker punched it. “Why the hell am I settling for a goof like Danny when my roommate has a trust fund?”
“Oh, so now I’m responsible for your kept woman status?”
Lisa smirked, but her face became serious once again. “What happened, Midge? I thought you walked away from that years ago?”
“My father is heading a new reality TV series, Marry Your Billionaire—”
“Oh, yeah. I read a little bit about the new series on the internet. They’ll be unveiling the identity of the billionaire in question next Monday.”
Midge shot a hand up to prevent Lisa from going any further. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know the details. Anyway, they start shooting in two months, but Dad had a cancellation and needs me to step in as one of the contestants for the first round of eliminations. He said if I did it, I would get my trust fund back with no strings attached.”
Lisa’s squeal vibrated from the back of her throat like the revving of a race car engine before take-off. When her squeal finally made its way out of her mouth the results were ear shattering.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe it.” She jumped up and down in a circle, losing half her curlers in the process. “My roommate is going to be famous. My roomie is a reality TV superstar.” She said the last part in a dramatic wh
isper while jumping to one knee and throwing her hands in the air, flinging the mascara and her toothbrush in opposite directions and wiggling her fingers in true jazz hand style.
“Lisa, its one day and one night, okay? I have to be on TV for less than a twenty-four hour period and then the guy will be instructed to eliminate me with however many other girls he decides to let go. I’ll hardly be a superstar.”
“You’ll get to be on a billionaire’s radar for a whole day. I’m so freaking jealous of you right now.”
“You shouldn’t be. The guy will probably be arrogant, self-centered, and about as personable as a dead fish.”
Lisa jumped up from her position and went in search of the items she’d torpedoed through the air. “Can you, for once, get excited about the male species? Be thrilled to go on television like any normal twenty-four-year-old woman? You get your trust fund back, you’re doing your dad a favor so it isn’t like he can hold anything over your head. You’ll be on TV for one full day, and you’ll get to hob nob with all sorts of famous people. This can only help push your writing career further. Don’t you see that? Win-win, my dear.”
Midge attempted to look at it from Lisa’s perspective, but could only view this latest development as a major setback in her life instead of the improvement she supposed it could be. She loathed the fact that she had to depend on her trust fund at all, but her desire to graduate held more sway than her pitiful pride.
She’d made a deal with the very devil and she knew it. Only time would tell when that devil might pull out his own set of tricks, and then the whole thing would blow up in her face, trust fund and all.
“So I assume you’ll be staying at some immaculate mansion in order to film this thing?”
“My father’s secretary will send me the details soon. Who knows where we’ll be?”
“You’re going to be sharing a mansion with nineteen other girls. I can already picture the cat fights that little scenario will produce.” Lisa clasped her hands together and let out a wicked cackle.