Marry Your Billionaire: A Modern Cinderella

by C. J. Anaya

  Midge had to laugh at that.

  “Honestly, I’ve never cooked an insect a day in my life, but I did quite a bit of traveling with my father, and you wouldn’t believe the things I had to eat just so I wouldn’t offend any of his clients or business partners. Cicadas are actually pretty tasty.”

  Cambria gazed upon her in awe and something akin to hero worship. Okay, so maybe not all of the girls here were plastic bimbos.

  “You’ve traveled to Italy, then?”

  Midge laughed at her expression and moved back to the counter, beginning the tedious task of smashing twenty cloves of garlic.

  “Italy, China, the gorgeous countryside of Ireland. I’ve lived a charmed life in many ways, I guess.”

  “I’ve only ever lived in Los Angeles. This is the first time I’ve left California. It’s been a little scary for me.”

  Midge suddenly understood this young girl’s suspicious lack of confidence. Traveling for the first time anywhere was bound to attack your comfort zone. Cambria and Charlene went to put their cicadas on the stove and then returned to participate in garlic smashing tedium. Midge noticed the other girl in their group begin to pull her own pot out as well. Her name failed to come to mind.

  “So what do you do when you’re not competing with a group of girls for a billionaire husband?” Charlene asked.

  Midge snorted. “I’m an author, actually. I’m nearly finished with my first manuscript and plan on submitting it to a few agents and publishers I’ve had my eye on for a while.”

  Charlene’s eyes lit up with interest.

  “What do you write about?”

  “I’m a hopeless romantic, so I stick to the romance stories with happily ever afters.”

  “That explains why you’re here then,” Cambria stated. The fierce smashing of her mallet hilariously contrasted against her diminutive personality and slight figure. “It’s hopelessly romantic to join a dating show where you’re fighting for the attention of a man you admire and hope to fall in love with. I bet this gives you all sorts of material for a good book.”

  Midge looked at her in surprise.

  “That’s not a bad idea at all, Cambria. It’s not why I’m here, but it’s definitely something to consider.”

  “I can’t believe we have to do this by hand. Where’s a food processor when you need it?” Charlene grumbled.

  “Why are you here, then?” Cambria brought her mallet down again and bits of garlic sprayed in several directions.

  “Cambria, you’re beating that garlic like you would an enormous insect,” Midge said, ignoring the question.

  “Exactly.”

  Charlene and Midge laughed at Cambria’s exaggerated smashing technique and went back to smashing their own garlic.

  “I’d better check on my cicadas.” Midge made her way back to the stove, but became disconcerted when she noticed that her burner wasn’t on.

  I swear I turned my burner on. That’s so strange.

  She shrugged her shoulders and lit her gas burner again. She decided to stand there and wait for it to finish before wandering back to the other girls. As much as she enjoyed making friends, she really didn’t want to go into detail about her personal reasons for being there. She also didn’t want to get too friendly with any of the women vying for Brody’s attention.

  It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t care who gets that man’s attention.

  Just then the man in question came into her line of vision. She watched him as he scanned the room, dispassionately taking in the movements of the other women. She was going to have to warn him about that. He couldn’t look bored out of his mind on national television. Not if he wanted to uphold this new image they were creating for him.

  Wait a second. Why do I even care? No way am I giving him more reason to keep me here.

  Only when his eyes met hers did he demonstrate a hint of emotion. They took on that hungry, smoldering stare he had used on her in his bathroom and at the restaurant—and everywhere else she had ever been with him now that she thought on it.

  Oh, give it a rest would you?

  That come hither look wasn’t about to work on her this time, especially when she stood next to a pot of boiling cicadas. Nothing like the smell of simmering bugs to effectively wreck any and all romantic inclinations. She turned her back on him as a subtle way of demonstrating he held zero power over her and a pathetic attempt at proving to herself that she was immune to his charms.

  What a challenge.

  Once her bugs had boiled and the rest of her garlic looked like a pulverized, pasty liquid, she heated up a pan of mashed garlic, soy sauce and sherry. Within minutes it thickened into a yucky brown color but the smell was divine.

  The next step involved skewering her boiled cicadas with little bamboo sticks and then arranging them on a large oval platter. She took great satisfaction in stabbing each cicada, visualizing Brody as she did so. The crunching sound only added to the fun of the activity.

  I am so sadistic.

  Midge took the brown mixture and scooped it into the middle of the plate and then added her parsley and celery in a way that made the brown heap look like a dirt mound amongst foliage. She speared the cicadas into the dirt mound so they appeared to be crawling out of the earth just as she had seen it arranged in Shanghai.

  “The instructions don’t tell us to make our platters look like that,” Cambria observed.

  “Oh, this is just how I’ve seen it served before, but you can arrange your bugs any ol’ way you like.”

  Cambria’s nose scrunched up at the reminder of what they were preparing and then she began arranging her plate exactly how Midge had.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Now we eat them. Five of them is the prescribed number, and thank heaven’s for that. I can’t imagine having to eat sixty of these suckers.”

  “No kidding,” Charlene said. “Why on earth did they have us make so many?” Her look of disgust as she surveyed all of their platters was comical. Midge would probably be the only one eating the creepers. Best to get it over with.

  She grabbed one, thanked her lucky stars it had been de-winged and then took a bite, managing to get half of it in her mouth. The cicadas were soft-shelled, another bonus for her because she wasn’t one to prefer super crunchy exoskeleton.

  It definitely had that taste and texture of lobster tail without the fishiness, and the sherry, anise seed, soy, and garlic gave it some added kick. Not bad at all so long as you didn’t look at the eyes before you popped it into your mouth.

  Kill me.

  Midge dutifully finished her first one off and went in for a second.

  Cambria and Charlene studied each other as if to say, You game?, and then they both picked up a speared bug and went for it.

  Nope, definitely not bimbos then.

  Midge felt exceptionally proud of her little protégés.

  “I think I might be able to choke down the rest of these so long as I can chase it down with something fortifying,” Charlene said.

  “That’s crazy. These things are totally delicious,” Cambria said.

  Midge turned to her in surprise as the young girl grabbed two more and began munching on them as if they were candy bars.

  “I bet ya I can finish my five before you, Cambria,” Midge challenged.

  “You’re on, girlfriend.”

  “You three are disgusting,” said their fourth group member. Midge still fought to place her, but failed to. “Please remember to dip your tooth brush in some rubbing alcohol and scrub your mouth once you’ve finished. Oh, and don’t breathe on me.”

  Midge stifled a laugh and almost choked on her fourth cicada. She and Cambria held up their last bug and gave each other a challenging look.

  “Do it. Do it. Do it,” Charlene began to chant. Other groups took notice and soon all of the cameras had zoomed in on them.

  With a nod, Cambria and Midge shoved the last cicada in their mouths and furiously chewed away. After a few moments they swall
owed and tapped their hands on the counter at the same time.

  “I believe it was a tie,” Charlene stated.

  Most of the contestants and all of the crew whooped and clapped in a congratulatory fashion, but Midge happened to notice one contestant in particular who didn’t seem to be thrilled with her success.

  Felicia stood at a station to her right with her arms folded across her chest. Midge imagined that the snarling vixen wished to go for her throat, but there were too many witnesses present. She’d have to check Felicia’s background for possible signs of homicidal activities. That and lock her door and windows morning, noon, and night.

  She responded to the acidic stare with a wide smile of her own and then turned her attention to the group surrounding her. Cambria’s exuberant smile and Charlene’s friendly arm around her shoulder warmed her heart just a little.

  Okay, so maybe making a few friends wasn’t completely taboo.

  Brody surreptitiously watched as Madelyn involved herself in an eating contest with another girl from her group. He couldn’t figure out how she managed to look so sophisticated in a t-shirt and blue jeans. It was attractive and completely distracting. She was the only person he wanted to look at, but he was supposed to be surveying the progress of everyone in equal measure.

  Tedious.

  He hadn’t worried about Madelyn’s reaction to the challenge. He’d done his research on her and figured cicadas would be the least of her worries, but he was pleasantly surprised when she seemed to take charge of her group and rally them into trying something new and challenging.

  She was a born leader yet so unassuming at the same time. Lead by example, as his mother frequently reminded him. Madelyn appeared to be a natural at it.

  He also took a few moments to enjoy the predicament Felicia found herself in. He’d made certain to give her group something she was sure to detest. Smalahove was a Western Norwegian traditional dish made from sheep’s head. She didn’t even have to cook the sheep head or singe the hair off of it and scoop the brains out as required for preparation. It came ready made since the process was time consuming. No, all she had to do was heat up the head in the oven and prepare the mashed rutabaga and potatoes to go along with it.

  The fact that she had mentioned her immense dislike for all animals in general, though she was referring to keeping pets, had merely added to his delight in giving her this particular assignment.

  When Felicia had opened the freezer and squealed at the frozen sheep heads peeking out from sightless eyes, he’d been hard pressed to contain his laughter. There was absolutely no way she’d consider eating something like that let alone preparing it. No chance of a date with that walking death trap.

  He continued to admire Midge from a distance as she gave her teammates hugs and then grabbed a cicada and carefully placed it on top of one of the crew member’s heads, creating a cacophony of laughter as the young man did his best to dislodge it from the top of his cranium. She certainly knew how to play to an audience, commanding everyone’s attention as if she reveled in it, though he suspected that to be far from the truth. He couldn’t wait to spend some alone time with his tempting little librarian. Fortunately for him, he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

  “Ladies, I’d like to thank those of you who gave this challenge your best despite the unusual cuisines you were asked to cook,” Brody said.

  The contestants in the room let out some nervous giggles and a few murmured comments. Midge kept her eyes locked on Brody with a feigned look of interest. Cameras were rolling, after all, and even though she’d rather be looking anywhere else she had to behave as if his mere presence made her insides ache with longing. Which, of course, they did.

  “The goal was to choose someone among the group who won the challenge, but only a few of you from each group actually attempted to eat your meal once it was prepared. So the winner will have to be chosen by determining who finished the challenge first.”

  Midge glanced around the room, wondering who amongst the girls in the other groups had finished their challenge first.

  “There was actually a tie for first place so there will be two one-on-one dates. One with Cambria Kessler and the other with Madelyn Knightly.”

  Everyone in the room let out happy cheers, whether forced or genuine was anybody’s guess, but Midge didn’t even notice, trying to come to grips with the fact that she’d managed to land herself some alone time with Brody after all. Though her initial reaction was to utter a blatant refusal, she had the presence of mind to keep her mouth shut and paste a smile upon her face.

  “The first date will be this afternoon with Madelyn. I’ll pick you up at four o’clock sharp, young lady.”

  She realized she needed to say something since their collective audience looked at her with an expectant air.

  “I’ll be waiting,” she managed.

  Brody gave her a knowing smile, sensing her discomfort and no doubt finding it humorous. She’d done such a fantastic job of sabotaging him and then avoiding him, and now he had maneuvered her into a position impossible to run away from, and on national television no less. She was going to have to play nice and behave herself instead of ranting and raving at him like she wanted to.

  In the meantime, she’d have to convince her heart that a date with Brody Prescott meant absolutely nothing to her.

  Nothing at all.

  A sharp knock sounded at Midge’s door, causing her to jump a little and jar the laptop on her desk.

  “Midge, it’s Stacey,” came a muffled voice through the door. “Brody is waiting downstairs for you, and the film crew is ready. You’ll have two crew members plus your father and me going on this date with you.”

  She pinched her eyes shut and chewed at her bottom lip. Then she stared forlornly at the empty page on her laptop. She’d spent the last few hours attempting to ground herself in work related material. The romantic interests in her novel had one last obstacle to overcome, filled with hilarious misunderstandings, an interfering best friend, and a naughty rival of the female variety. She knew exactly how she wanted the next few scenes to take shape. At least she had before she got stuck here on this island with a handsome billionaire intent on coercing her into the role of fake girlfriend. Now all of her turbulent thoughts were wholly centered on how to prevent herself from feeling anything while being in Brody’s presence.

  Should have been a no-brainer since she loathed and despised him.

  Yep. She totally hated him. She hated his soft, silky hair and the way it felt when she stroked her fingers through it every time he kissed her. She hated his lips and how demanding they were when pressed against her own. Oh, and she most definitely hated his confident and aggressive nature. The way he pulled her to him without so much as a by-your-leave and forced her into such passionate consuming exchanges of affection, making her feel like she was the most desirable woman in the world.

  Yeah. She really hated that.

  An indifferent attitude was going to be her best line of defense against his irresistible charm.

  “Midge? Are you in there?”

  “Yes,” she shouted. “I’m coming.” She jumped off her bed, placing her laptop to the side and went to open the door.

  Stacey stood smiling and exuberant in the entryway.

  “I am so excited to see you and Brody interact on this date.”

  “I’m glad that you’re coming along on this particular shoot.” In Midge’s opinion, women and moral support went together like chocolate and chick flicks.

  “Yep. Your dad was impressed with the confrontation I caught between you and Felicia. He said it was exactly the kind of petty cat fight he’d been hoping for.”

  Midge rolled her eyes at this. “Well, glad to have the old man’s approval. I mean, why would American viewers enjoy something culturally educational when they could watch high strung females lay claim to a man who’s not interested in any of them?”

  Stacey chuckled. “I’m sorry, but Brody is most definitely interested
in you. That kiss on YouTube was something else. I’m seriously hoping for a repeat of that during this date.” She let out a wistful sigh.

  “That isn’t going to happen, Stacey. He’s made it quite clear that he will only kiss someone he is seriously intent on pursuing.”

  “Whatever you say, girlfriend. But if I were the betting type, I’d wager fifty bucks that those lips of yours get ambushed before the end of the day.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and then turned toward the hall. “Let’s get this show on the road. I’m itching for some romance.”

  Midge let out a bereaved sigh and closed the door behind her.

  Following Stacey through the massive mansion gave Midge’s anxiety just enough time to take root and tear through her confidence while simultaneously fueling her self-doubt. She had to remain emotionally distant through all of this even if she appeared cold and inaccessible on television. It was the kind of behavior her father had always preached against when it came to camera time. An audience needs to find you likable, lovable, and even vulnerable in order to relate to you. Bare your emotions, leave your heart on your sleeve, share the most personal traumatizing aspects of your life—a real sob story that will appeal to viewers—and your TV success is a guarantee.

  Her distant behavior wasn’t going to win her any fans or followers, but she wasn’t here for that. She shouldn’t have been here at all.

  As she reached the top of the staircase she took note of the two cameramen on either side and Brody in the middle. Her father was just beyond the action, viewing everything from a director’s standpoint, critically assessing facial expressions, atmosphere and emotional dynamics.

  She allowed her eyes to fall on Brody. His hungry stare sent heat to her tummy, blossoming out and causing a traitorous blush to rise to her cheeks. He took note of it and gave her a winning smile.

  It infuriated her.

  Why did he have to look so gorgeous? His casual wear, khakis and a sports t-shirt gave him a boyish appearance. He managed to make her feel under-dressed even though casual was what had been instructed. She had no idea what activity loomed upon the horizon, but she sincerely hoped it would afford her a little breathing room in Brody’s presence.