Reality Girl: Episode One (6 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I pushed open the door cautiously, hoping everyone short of Bobby was gone. Much to my surprise, the house was filled with people.

Kelli included.

Dressed in a black pant suit with her hair twisted into a perfect bun, she really was pretty.

And angry.

Shit.

As soon as I stepped through the door, I was met by her stare. “Where in the fuck have you been?” she snarled

“I uhhm.” I offered an apologetic shrug. “I got drunk and passed out. Sorry.”

“Bullshit,” she hissed.

“No,” I responded. “I really did.”

Her laser sharp glare continued. “Where?”

“Down the street.” I motioned over my shoulder, in the direction opposite of Franky’s house. “I just woke up.”

“You’re really pushing it with me, Lou. Where were you?”

“No, seriously. Rhett and me got in a little fight last night, and I stomped out. I uhhm. I really don’t remember much of the night, but I know I got drunk and just woke up. Really. And, it’s not much, but I
am
sorry.”

I hoped she could find a way to understand. She turned to the side and cleared her throat. A man who I didn’t recognize met her gaze.

“Where’s the SEAL?”

“Went for a run, then the gym,” the man responded.

Kelli turned to me. “Who was he?”

“Who was who?”

“The guy you were with last night?”

“I wasn’t with anyone, really.”

She huffed a forced sigh. “We’ll find out who he is.”

I tried to act like I didn’t hear her, and wondered if it worked.

“This better not happen again,” she growled. “Understand?”

I nodded. “Understood. It’s just. Rhett was a dick last night and it pissed me off.”

She cocked her hip to the side and shot me a look. “Just suck his cock at the pool again, and it’ll all be fine.”

I was hoping she hadn’t seen the footage of the pool incident. Actually, I hoped no one had seen it, and regretted it wholeheartedly. Once again, I acted uninterested in her comment.

“That was a first, by the way,” she said. “Poolside sex in the broad daylight. I figured you for a little prude. Guess I was wrong.”

Alright, that’s enough.

“That’s not going to happen again,” I snapped back. “Ever.”

She inhaled a long breath, and then let it out slowly. “It needs to.”

I shook my head. “It won’t.”

She looked me up and down. “Have him tie you to the bed or fuck you on the beach or something.”

I shot her an evil glare, and didn’t bother responding.

“That scene is going to push us past three million viewers,” she said.

Mystery man leaned over and whispered in her ear. She nodded and took a few steps toward me. “Don’t fuck him on the beach. The sand gets into everything, and we don’t need a lawsuit because you get a scratched up twat. And, from here on out, if you need to go anywhere, you have the driver take you. No exceptions. Understand?”

“Everywhere?”

She nodded. “Everywhere.”

I forced a grin. “Okay.”

“Now.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Make up with SEAL boy. We’ve got twenty more days of filming with him, and fighting doesn’t do it for our viewers, or for ratings. This isn’t
Springer
.”

“Eighteen,” the other man said.

She glared at him. “Eighteen, twenty, who fucking cares?”

I care.

I wish it was eight.

Or none.

“You and the war-torn SEAL need to have a quiet breakfast tomorrow together. Coffee. Bagels. Something. We’ll make it seems like it it’s the day after the little veggie argument. A little minor editing, and no one will be the wiser about your drunken disappearance.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll have coffee with him.”

She looked me in the eyes. “You better have more than that.”

“I don’t like him,” I managed to say. “At all.”

“That footage out at the pool sure says otherwise.”

“Well,” I said. “You might need to cut that out and put it at the end of this episode or whatever you call it. It’s not happening again.”

“I meant what I said about the driver. And, no more stomping off mad.”

“Okaaaaaay,” I said as she walked away.

Her entourage followed, leaving the two cameramen behind. After the door closed, I looked at Bobby. “You gotta help me.”

“Help you what?” he whispered.

“I hate Rhett,” I said. “Can you make it look like I don’t?”

He shrugged. “You and me together? Probably.”

“Okay,” I said. “We need to try.”

He grinned. “I’m here for the next six months no matter what.”

And, as much as hated to admit it, I knew I was too.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I lived life without regret. Up until
Reality Sucks
, that statement was true. Now? Now, I couldn’t make the claim.

As least not accurately.

Four days had passed since my disappearing act, during which I had done a complete moral inventory of myself. It came as no surprise that I regretted having sex with Rhett. I didn’t hate the fact I chose to do it, but I was far from proud of my decision.

In the days since my overnight stay at Franky’s, Rhett hinted at wanting sex a few times. Although he didn’t make a huge issue of it, I couldn’t help but think my denial of his requests had him wondering just where things went wrong.

No differently than any other woman I knew, I had no problem expressing myself when asked, but I lacked the ability to express myself if unsolicited – especially when being critical of someone else. So, although Rhett hinted at the fact he realized
something
was wrong, he didn’t care enough to try and find out what it actually was.

Sitting in the breakfast nook drinking coffee, I wished I was at the bar talking to Franky. For the sake of the show, I needed to find satisfaction in the time I was spending with Rhett – at least for the time being – but I wasn’t.

“How are you going to prepare for this? All of the guys?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“After
our
time is done, you and me, another one of the guys will be here. You’ll be doing the same things with him that we’ve done.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Part of me doesn’t like the idea that I got picked to go first. By the time the last guy’s here, you’ll forget all the things you liked about me.”

No worries. I already have.

But. He had a valid point. After six months had passed – and five more men had been introduced to me – Rhett sure wouldn’t be on the forefront of my thoughts. And, with each of the men, I’d forget bits and pieces about the previous one. Or at least cast them aside based on what was in front of me.

“That isn’t true,” I said, although it really was.

“It
is
true,” he said. After a drink of coffee, his eyes fell to the table. “I have no idea how you’re going to do it and keep any kind of idea of who’s who in your mind.”

For the sake of the show, and because I wasn’t a cruel person, I made every effort to be civil. My responses, although vague, expressed my lack of interest in him without being hateful. “Let’s focus on us for right now,” I said with a shallow grin. “I really don’t want to think about what might happen later.”

He looked up. “It’s hard for me to focus on
us
, especially when I know that pretty quick here you’re going to be focused on someone else.”

It appeared that he was defeated. For a former Navy SEAL, he sure seemed to give up easily. As far as I was concerned, it was further proof that my decision to cast him aside was the right one. I offered a half-assed shrug and took a sip of my lukewarm coffee.

I’d never been one to worry about what had yet to happen, so trying to plan my future with Rhett – or anyone for that matter – based on non-existent problems seemed ridiculous.

Especially when I considered the fact that I no longer cared to have a future with him. I placed my cup on the table and sighed. “I’m not worried about them--”

“I am,” he interrupted.

You didn’t even let me finish.

For whatever reason, what little interest I had in attempting to simply be Rhett’s friend seemed to all of a sudden vanish. Spending two more weeks with him wasn’t going to be easy, especially if he expected any of the time we spent together to be worthwhile.

I grabbed my cup and stood.

“What do you want to do today?” he asked.

Go to the bar.

“I don’t know,” I responded over my shoulder.

I rinsed my cup and opened the dishwasher. “Are you going to exercise?” I asked, hoping he felt like a 30-mile run and a few hours of weight training were necessary.

He stood, stretched, and reached for his cup. “I should.”

“Why don’t you exercise,” I said with a phony smile. “I’ll go eat something light, and then we can meet up this afternoon. How’s that?”

“Sounds good.”

It was all too easy to fall victim to a man’s looks, profession, or swagger, and Rhett stood before me as proof. I had chosen him based on his looks alone, and should have spent more time finding out what was beneath the surface.

My focus with the remaining five men was going to be much different, that was for sure.

“Alright then.” I turned to face him. “I’m going to change and get the driver to take me somewhere to eat.”

“Sounds good,” he said again.

A light meal did sound good.

And, I knew exactly where I was going to have the driver take me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I opened the door slightly, hesitated, then looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Just wait for me here.”

He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t drop you off in a residential neighborhood.”

“I was told to have you take me wherever I wanted to go. And, when I was done, you were supposed to take me home.
This
is where I want to go.”

“This isn’t a restaurant.”

“Did Kelli say you could only take me to restaurants?”

“No, but--”

I pushed the door open and got out. I purposely had the driver take me a few blocks past Franky’s bar, in hopes that he would have no idea where I might be going. “I’ll be back in an hour and a half. Don’t go anywhere.”

I slammed the door and took off in a sprint. After the SUV was out of my view, I checking over my shoulder with every few steps. Convinced no one was following me, I slowed to a walk, and turned the corner. A quick glance down the block in each direction assured me no one was following me, and I stepped to the door of the bar.

I hadn’t seen Franky since the night I fell asleep at his place, and I hated that I wasn’t able to talk to him whenever I wanted to. It was the price I paid for being a part of the television show I was filming, and I didn’t like it.

As was the case in the late mornings, the bar was empty.

Thank God.

With the sound of Sturgill Simpson’s
In Bloom
filling the air, I walked into the bar grinning from ear-to-ear. Franky turned toward me as soon as the door opened and let in a little light, warning him of my arrival.

“I’ve got a question,” I said as approached the bar.

“Sleeping Beauty. Nice to see you again.” He raked his hair away from his eyes. “Ask away, I’m sure I’ll have an answer.”

I meandered to the edge of the bar and pulled out a stool. “Why aren’t you busy? Great location, by the beach, great atmosphere, great company. But, you’re never really busy, especially early.”

“Off-season,” he said.

I sat down. “Huh?”

“It’s summer,” he explained. “You’re in a beach town. Everything here’s pretty much dead until fall and winter. The price of hotels along the coast triples or quadruples in October. Now? Shit, now they’ll all but give you one.”

“Oh. So summer here is like winter everywhere else.”

“Something like that. What can I get for you?”

“Water.”

He returned a confused look. “No margaritas?”

“No. Just water. Are you hungry?”

“Am
I
hungry?”

“No.” I chuckled and waved toward the empty bar. “I’m asking everyone else.”

“Funny. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

I widened my eyes dramatically and cocked my head to the side. “Share a pizza?”

He slid the glass of water in front of me. “Only if it’s covered in thinly sliced veggies.”

“Sounds fun. Let’s do it.”

He turned toward the iPad and punched in the order. As soon as he finished, he grabbed the rickety stool, and then he sat down and smiled.

“So, how’d they accept your disappearance for a night?”

“Oh, God. It was awful. Kelli reamed me, and told me I couldn’t go anywhere without a driver.
Don’t run off again
, she said. She can be a real bitch.”

“And Kelli is?”

“The producer.”

He sat up straight. “Kelli Karsten?”

“Yeah. You know her?”

“Know
of
her. Hell,
everyone
does. She produces all of the popular reality shows.
Kicking it with the Kardella’s
,
Simple Life
, that one with the midget wrestlers,
Failing in Florida
. Shit, everyone knows her. I guess I didn’t realize you were in contact with
her
.”

“I wasn’t. I mean I met her when we were negotiating the contract, but I hadn’t seen her since. Not until I fell asleep at your place, that is.”

“So, is your driver outside in a limo?”

“No, he’s four blocks away. I chuckled. “Parked in front of a house in an Escalade.”

“That’s funny. Thanks for keeping the drama at bay.”

I leaned onto the bar and admired his ridiculously messed up, but oh-so-perfect, hair. “I didn’t figure you were one for cameras and such.”

“I’m sure as fuck not. I try and fly under the radar. Don’t know how you do it, personally.”

“It’s not easy, believe me.”

“So, have you and the SEAL been going at it since?”

“Fighting?”

“No,” he said. “Fucking.”

“Who said we’ve been fucking?”

“You did.” He laughed. “The other night. You said you’ve been fucking, but you were mad at him over the pizza thing, and you regretted it.”

“Oh shit.” I sat up straight. “I said that?”

“Sure did. Said you two have boned twice, to be exact. So, still on the two count, or has it risen?”

“Two and done.”

“Oh wow. Done, huh?”

I nodded. “Done.”

“For sure?”

“Uh huh. Done.”

“I suppose that’s good. But. That lack of chemistry will make for a shitty show,” he said. “Maybe they can edit it to play from the end to the beginning. Start out with small talk and end up with fireworks.”

“That’s kind of what I told her.”

I took a drink of my water and slid the glass to the side. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure can. And, in the future, don’t ask permission, just ask the question.”

“You’ve said things to me. Like, you told me I’m pretty and--”

“Gorgeous,” he interrupted.

He was staring right at me. I couldn’t help but smile. “Gorgeous. Sorry.”

He smiled.

I began to blush.

I sighed and looked away. “And then you talked about dirty talking. How you’re good at it. And you’ve whispered in my ear, and said sexy stuff. How come when I came over the other night you didn’t do anything? Or try anything?”

“I’m not like that.”

I met his gaze. “Like what?”

“I’ll mess with you when you’re in here. You know, give you a hard time. But. I’m not going to fuck with you sexually while you’re doing that show. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

“Do your show, and when you’re done, we’ll talk more about it.”

I didn’t like his response. I wanted more from him. Much more.

“Do you like me?”

Fuck.

That sounded pretty juvenile.

Really juvenile.

He scratched his head frantically, further messing up his disastrous – but cute – hair. He lowered his hands to his lap and met my stare.

“Do I
like
you?” he laughed. “For the sake of fuck. Really? I think you’re gorgeous. And interesting. And intelligent. And cute. Your walk does little to hide the fact that you’re from the Midwest, and it’s fun to watch. I’m going to guess you’ve ridden a horse before, and I like that about you. Probably came from a home with a bunch of brothers and no sisters, and you’re not happy about it. But, you’re doing your best to portray yourself as a woman, and not a Tomboy. I like the way your shorts are short enough to reveal your
entire
leg
without letting the cheek of your ass hang out. Your hair’s always perfect, but it’s not because you spend a lot of time with it. it’s because that’s just the way it is. The way you lick the salt off the rim of your drink when I’m not looking, but never do it when I am looking? I like that too. And the veggies on the pizza? Yeah, that too.”

He stood up, then looked me right in the eyes. “Yeah, Lou. I like you.”

Wow.

With my mouth agape and my mind wandering, I stared back at him. I was speechless.

I felt hot.

The all over kind of hot.

Like when Benny Wilson asked me to senior prom.

I reached for my glass of water, hoping a drink would cool me off. I gulped down half the glass, but got little, if any, relief.

“Oh,” I said in an almost inaudible tone.

He laughed. “You’re turning red.”

I wiped my brow. “I do that sometimes.”

He walked around the edge of the bar, stepped to my side, and leaned over.

Don’t…

He brushed my hair to the side, and then pressed his lips against my ear. His warm breath caused me to shiver. “Add that to the list of things I like about you,” he whispered.

Goosebumps rose the length of my arm. And then, my leg.

He stood up and walked away.

You fucker.

I like you, too.

In a few minutes, he returned, carrying the pizza. The smell of it brought back memories of my drunken night in the bar, and sleeping at his home. “Is that the same size as the one we ate the other night?”

He nodded. “Only size we offer.”

“Do you have root beer?” I asked.

His eyes lit up. “Oh. Good call. Want one?”

I nodded.

“Pizza and root beer,” he said. “Haven’t had that in a long time.”

I hadn’t either. It reminded me of my childhood. “Me neither.”

He poured two root beers, sat down, and then we began to eat. After finishing the first slice, I watched him for a moment. I decided, as I watched him eat, that he was truly a nice person.

“I had three brothers, no sisters, and was raised by my father on a farm right at the Kansas-Nebraska border, on the Kansas side. My mom and dad divorced, and she moved away after she married someone else. We never really saw her after that, but for whatever reason, I didn’t care. My dad was a really good dad. And yeah, I can ride a horse, drive a nail, build a barn, fight – and not like a girl – and cook dinner. Pretty well rounded.” I reached for a piece of pizza. “Do you think you can get me a throw-away phone? A burner?”

“Planning on murdering the SEAL?” he asked without expression.

“No! Jesus.”

He laughed and then took a drink of his root beer.

As he wiped the crumbs from his beard, I continued. “Part of the deal is that they take our phones. No link to outside but a land-line phone in the kitchen. But if I call you, they’ll record it and everything. I thought we could text back and forth if I could get a phone. It drove me nuts not being able to talk to you since that night.”

“Yeah, I can get you a phone. They’ve got those cheap fuckers down on the boardwalk.”

“Perfect.”

“So, what’s your plan for the next, what? Two weeks?” he asked.

I nodded. “Fourteen days. I’m just going to play it cool and be nice to him, but that’s it.”

“Does he know there’s no chance? That it’s over?”

“Nope.”

“You should tell him.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I doubt you do, but you should. It’s only right. Don’t lead him on.”

“I don’t like him,” I said. “I don’t care.”

“You always want to treat others the way you’d like to be treated. So, turn the tables. What if everything between you two was going perfect, and when the time was up, you thought you two might get together afterward? And then, when the show’s over, you get ahold of him only to find out he has a girlfriend. How would you feel?”

“Terrible.”

“So, tell him.”

I sighed. “I’m non-confrontational.”

“It’s not being confrontational. It’s being human. Just explain, truthfully, why things aren’t working. And, the sooner the better. Maybe off camera.”

I considered it for a long moment, and then took a drink. “It sounds easy.”

“It is easy.” He rubbed his palms together. “What’s his name?”

“Rhett.”

“Rhett? Holy shit. His mother was a hopeless romantic.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Gone with the Wind? The book, by Margaret Mitchell? Rhett Butler was the hero. What a name. Well, if you’re a douchebag.”

“I like it. Or, at least I
did
.”

He rolled his eyes. “Rhett, the pizza incident revealed enough about you that I decided it’s in our best interest that we not continue along any romantic path together. Don’t try to explain or make excuses, my decision is made. I came here in hope of finding someone to love, and--”

“Finding someone compatible,” I interrupted. “Not a lover, compatibility.”

He sighed. “I came here in hope of finding someone I’m compatible with – then, you can name any other reasons you can think of.” He stood up and began to pace the floor behind the bar. “After you list the reasons, tell him that you want to try and get along for the rest of the show, and that’s it.”