by C. J. Anaya
Thoughts of Blanche and how she would react to the bad press her son might receive brought her up short. She stood on the threshold of the mansion, wondering what she could possibly do to protect Brody from whatever her father had in store for him. Felicia Davenport’s presence was just one weapon in her manipulative father’s arsenal.
Again, dang it.
She saw no alternative but to coach Brody as much as possible before he eliminated her from the show. Which meant more time spent in his yummy presence. Did she really want to do that to herself? Poised with one hand on the gold plaited handle of the mansions stately looking front door, she considered the alternatives if she stayed silent and allowed her father to play his mind games and lay out his perfectly planned traps within the show. Felicia Davenport being his biggest ace in the hole.
Nope. There was no avoiding it. She’d have to help him navigate the treacherous waters of reality TV before she left him to fend for himself. That decided, she turned the door handle and crossed the threshold.
Game on.
Chapter Six
She looked like a fiery seductress in that red ensemble. A tempting piece of literature he wanted to study and learn more about. Watching Midge walk to the mansion just out of his reach brought a hollow feeling to the pit of his stomach, especially since he had waited so impatiently for this moment to arrive.
He’d fought the impulse to seek her out and spirit her away to some romantic destination. Unlike at Club 23, she had nowhere to run to, no way to avoid his presence. He could pursue the smoking hot librarian for the duration of the show so long as everything went according to plan.
Felicia’s presence put a damper on things, but he wouldn’t allow this tiny setback to interfere with his plans for wooing, Madelyn Knightly.
Midge.
Her friends called her Midge.
She’d given him that name before, but never with any hope of her wanting to pursue a friendship. And didn’t most successful relationships start with friendship?
He couldn’t help the boyish grin stealing over his face as he contemplated the significance of her statement. One wall down, several hundred more to go, no doubt, but he’d witnessed a definite chink in her armor just now and he planned on chiseling away at the tiny crack until all of Madelyn’s reservations came tumbling down.
As the director called action and the next contestant descended to the sandy beach, he couldn’t help but feel that everything was going exactly according to plan.
“Hello stranger,” said a sugary sweet voice that left him feeling nothing but dread with it’s vindictive undertones. The contestant took her goggles and head gear off and Felicia Davenport was not only unveiled, but in Brody’s opinion, unleashed, the she-cat herself in the flesh.
Okay, so maybe not everything was going according to plan.
After a brief visit to the bathroom where Midge managed to tame the mass of red curls which had become disheveled from her jump from sky to earth, she entered the main hallway and was then directed to a large room where the contestants were supposed to gather once they arrived. It housed several couches made of plush, satin looking fabrics. Midge felt certain her inelegant bootie would feel severely out of place housed within the folds of a couch assembled for nothing less than royalty.
She’d just tentatively seated herself upon a less intimidating love seat when Stacey came into the room bearing a cup of steaming hot tea and a large, fluffy croissant.
“You can turn your mic off for the moment, Midge. Your father explained to me the terms in your contract. There are no cameras here right now, but once the girls start coming in you’ll have to turn it back on and behave…or not behave.” She gave her a furtive smile. “Any drama is good drama, you know what I mean?”
“Got it. Thanks for the brief reprieve.” She flipped it off and settled back in her seat.
Stacey nodded, handing over her offering and taking a seat next to her with a tired sigh.
“It’s chamomile,” she said. “You looked a little unnerved after your encounter with Brody.”
Well, she was perceptive. Midge blew on her tea while considering what the safest response might be.
“I wasn’t unnerved—”
“It’s all right.” She placed a comforting hand on Midge’s shoulder. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You didn’t expect to have that physical reaction to him, did you? After all, you’re not really here to pursue the bachelor. It was probably a bit of a shock.”
“Stacey, what on earth are you getting at?”
“Why, the chemistry between you two. Seriously, the moment you and Brody locked eyes for the first time…well, to say that sparks were flying would be an understatement. That man wants you, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re probably not opposed to the idea.”
Midge studied Stacey’s owl-like glasses. There was keen intelligence in those hazel eyes and a bit of the whimsical romantic within her sweet expression.
“I’m willing to admit he is attractive, but I’m contractually obligated to leave tonight, and I plan on doing so.”
“Well, that’s a terrible idea. You should stay and see how this plays out.”
“How this plays out? Stacey, this is reality TV, which by definition means that everything happening on this show will be completely staged. You can’t develop a relationship with a guy who is dating nineteen other women. It’s hard enough to get to know someone exclusively let alone in a harem-like setting. It may make for entertaining television, but trust and commitment can’t exist when the boyfriend in question is pursuing other women. That’s the very epitome of a playboy, something I told Mr. Prescott he needed to avoid, but did he listen? Oh no. Heaven forbid anyone listen to the daughter of a film producer.”
Stacey’s eyes glowed with interest. “You knew Mr. Prescott before the show?”
Midge hesitated. “Well, I…we met briefly. I tried to talk him out of reality TV. Told him to save his image by dating one woman who was capable of wearing an entire dress.
That got a laugh from Stacey.
“My advice fell on deaf ears.”
“Interesting. I do wonder, though.” She pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose and settled into the love seat.
“Wonder what?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. I’ll keep my musings to myself for now. How about we go over what to expect for the evening?”
“I think we can save that for later,” Felicia Davenport said as she charged into the room. “Right now, I need coffee with lots of alcohol in it. Stat!”
Stacey’s entire demeanor changed from relaxed and confident to nervous and submissive. She shot from the love seat and made a bee line for the door, mumbling a, “Yes, Ms. Davenport.”
All too quickly, Midge found herself alone with the despicable woman. She flipped her mic back on and then took a sip of her tea to refrain from commenting on Felicia’s curt treatment of Stacey.
“I didn’t realize you were a contestant as well,” Felicia sniffed. “You might have mentioned it in the elevator.”
“You seemed to be in a hurry. I didn’t want to take up any of your precious time.” Midge flashed her a winning smile, but Felicia gave her an unhappy scowl.
“What did you say your name was?”
“I’m Madelyn Knightly. The director’s daughter.”
Now Felicia appeared even more upset.
“So just like that you land a role in a critically acclaimed reality TV series because your daddy is the director? Must be nice to have such high connections even though you possess zero talent where acting is concerned.”
Critically acclaimed? Was there such a thing when it came to reality TV? This was the first taping. No one had even had time to critically acclaim anything.
“Acting? I thought this was reality TV,” Midge said. “Do you mean to tell me you’re not here to make amends with Brody Prescott and win his heart?”
Midge saw the door to the room open up a crack while something peeked through,
though she couldn’t catch much of a glimpse since Felicia moved in front and stood looming over her.
“Of course, I am. I’m not the one who’ll be acting. Some women are here for less than genuine purposes.” Her pointed look underscored her subtle accusation.
Eyes are everywhere, her father used to say whenever they were on location. Someone was definitely filming this encounter.
“Well, I’m certainly here to give it a try,” Midge lied. Right, like she was going to divulge the truth behind her presence to the hell-cat standing before her.
Felicia gave her person another condescending perusal. It was a talent really, the ability to stick your nose up while looking down on everyone around you. Probably one of the few she actually possessed.
“Well, good luck with that, sweetheart. From everything I’ve observed, Brody Prescott isn’t interested in gingers. His preferences tend to lean toward curvy blonds.” She smoothed her hands over her hips and then gave her butt a firm smack.
“Then it’s a wonder, considering your ample figure, that Brody failed to take full advantage of your curves when he had the chance. You went out how many times? Once?” Midge tsked as outraged anger emanated from Felicia’s quivering frame. She knew she needed to bite her tongue, be the better woman, and show a little restraint, but her disgust with Felicia had pushed her over the edge. “Perhaps he’s outgrown the flighty Marilyn Monroe types and is looking for a classic beauty.”
Midge might have resembled a mousy librarian to those unwilling to give her a second glance, but she was definitely no push over, and beautiful glitzy women like Felicia didn’t scare her one bit. She had her mother to thank for that. As she set down her tea and stood, ready to leave Felicia’s distasteful company, the woman grasped her wrist and applied a painful amount of pressure.
“You’re out of your league here, sweetie. You’re not ready to play with the big girls.”
Midge showed no reaction to the painful increase of pressure on her wrist. Instead, she met Felicia’s hateful gaze and leveled her with an icy look of her own.
“Don’t be so hard on your own body type, Felicia. You’re not that big.”
The debutante’s indignant gasp made her lips quiver with pent up laughter. Felicia had grossly underestimated her. Though she’d turned her back on this kind of Hollywood lifestyle she’d been groomed for it since day one. She knew how to deal with the likes of Felicia Davenport.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go freshen up before the rest of the contestants join us. You might consider it as well. You have a smudge, just here.” Midge moved her finger across her cheek, indicating the area where a non-existent blemish was located. Felicia turned around in a panic and grabbed for her purse, probably looking for a compact mirror.
Before she could reach the door, a few crew members with cameras came in. Bill Thompson, her father’s right hand man motioned her to stay.
“That was great ladies, but we were hoping for something even more hostile. Midge, I think you should splash your drink in Felicia’s face and then Felicia can move to hit you. We could throw in a stunt double so that we actually get that initial face slap. We’ve got all of your conversation recorded and we can just edit, dub, and adjust where we need to.”
Midge raised one eyebrow in disgust and then shook her head, feeling ashamed at how she’d already taken Felicia’s bait and behaved like a shrew. “Not happening, Bill.” She moved around the crew, marched through the door, and headed toward the staircase.
She noticed Stacey in the hallway with a small video camera in her hands. She gave Midge a thumbs up and a conspiratorial wink before turning around and heading in the opposite direction.
Eyes everywhere.
“Why is Felicia Davenport here?” Brody demanded.
He felt tired, annoyed, and emotionally drained. Not a single female—besides Madelyn—on the show held an ounce of intelligence unless you counted the calculating looks he’d received from a few of them, no doubt wondering about his assets and stock holdings and how they might get their hands on every single penny he possessed.
What an unendurable nightmare. The only thing that made the endless line of introductions bearable was the idea that Madelyn was in the mansion waiting for him. Well, maybe not waiting for him, per se, but at least present, and for all intents and purposes available for some slotted alone time with him.
As he stood in a makeshift office where Knightly and his crew followed up with edits and post production—apparently each episode would be shot and edited during the week and then unveiled the following Monday night—he waited impatiently for Knightly to get on with his explanation.
“This is exactly what the show needs. The public is aware of Felicia’s accusations. Are they true, are they false? Perhaps she is here to patch things up and make amends for her vicious attack on your image.”
“Is that why she’s here?”
“Or,” Knightly said, pointing a finger at him, “she’s come to forgive you for your abhorrent behavior due to her undying love for you. We’re trying to save your image here, and the best way to do that is to kiss and make-up with the woman who caused this whole hullabaloo to begin with.”
“Knightly, if you think I want to have anything to do with that psychotic female, you’re crazy. I turned her down for a night cap. Her ego was hurt and she attacked me the best way she knew how. Her claims are completely fraudulent.”
“Of course, of course, but whether real or fake I believe the public will be ready and willing to forgive any and all scandals if they are privy to the details of your fairy tale romance unfolding on screen. An engaged founder of an online dating community is much more trustworthy than a playboy CEO.”
Brody’s anger at this kink in his flawless planning caused him to plant a fist on Knightly’s desk, upending a triangular paperweight and a cup filled with ball point pens.
“I have no intention of falling in love with that nightmare.”
“Love? Who said anything about love? I’m not asking you to follow your heart. I’m telling you to give the American viewers exactly what they want.”
“And what is that?”
“An entertaining love story filled with jealousy, betrayal, emotional turmoil, and eventually the happy ending we’re all programmed to expect.”
“It’s nothing but a lie,” Brody said in amazement.
“Exactly. Welcome to reality television. Now Prescott, I have a few last minute things to go over before the cocktail party tonight.”
“And that is?” Brody asked impatiently.
“First, as you know, it will be important for you to make some kind of grand opening speech, something nonsensical about finding the woman of your dreams in the room, true love yadda yadda yadda, you know the drill. I’ve heard you speak publicly so I know you won’t need any coaching in that area. Do you feel confident that you’ll be able to say something meaningful and heartwarming?”
“I think I can manage.”
“Good. Great. After all, we’re trying to repair that damaged image of yours.”
“Are we? Why do I get the feeling I’ve just been submarined?”
“On to other important details. Tonight, you will be eliminating three individuals from the group. I don’t care who the first two are, that’s completely up to you.”
“How thoughtful, thank you.”
Knightly smiled at the heavy laden sarcasm. “Obviously Felicia stays so don’t even think about eliminating her anytime soon.” Brody growled at this, but Knightly ignored him. “There is one contestant who must be eliminated from the show tonight.”
Brody anxiously waited for the response he knew was coming.
“My daughter, Madelyn Knightly. You see, she’s merely here as a stand-in due to a last minute cancellation. She promised to step in just for tonight, but she’s not an actual contestant for the show.”
Brody had already rehearsed his response.
“She didn’t sign a contract like the rest of the c
ontestants?”
“She did sign one, but it slightly differs from the others in scope and compensation.”
“Ah, then she signed a contract stating she would remain for only one night?”
“Essentially. The wording for that contract is basically the same as the others. She stays until she is eliminated.”
“No specific time frame, then?”
Knightly narrowed his eyes at Brody. “Why do you ask?”
The phone rang before Brody had to face more of Knightly’s suspicious questions. He decided to hightail it out of there before the producer got off the phone. He’d found out everything he needed to know. Her contract wasn’t specific in the length of time she agreed to stay. She fulfilled her end of the contract and was allowed to leave once she was eliminated.
And Brody Prescott had no intention of ever eliminating the tempting little minx.
Once he reached the mansion, he had one of the crew escort him to his own suite where he could quickly shower and change into a less wrinkled, less sweaty, tux for the evening.
“You have about an hour before we start shooting,” the crew member said, a sweet looking girl with owl shaped glasses.
“Thank you, ah…”
“Stacey,” she said. A knowing smile perched itself upon her lips. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Puzzled by her demeanor, he automatically responded, “Of course. Thank you, Stacey.”
He closed the door and turned to study the grandeur of his stately room with an immaculate king sized bed and a large chest of drawers situated in the corner. The decor was decidedly male in nature with dark blues and greens interspersed in the carpeting, furniture and bedding. Well, at least he’d be comfortable. In here, anyway. He held no hope of ever feeling comfortable in front of all of those cameras.