28. Twenty-Eight
twenty-eight
GINGER
I have no time to be trying to find Kat to explain what she and Cassie walked in on last night. I have way too much to do. Nevertheless, I search for her until the B-reel crew starts blowing up my phone wanting to get our tour of Paris out of the way.
I’m loath to leave the hotel. I was a mess when I left Elliot, and there’s no telling what he’ll do with a few unscheduled hours in front of him. I was too emotional last night to offer words of consolation or give him any instructions. Now, I’m clinging to the absurd hope he’ll stick to his room and brood.
But I have to get a handle on the Paris situation before it spirals completely out of control. I should have the details of the challenges planned out already. Instead, I’m having to avoid reliving all the events of last night in order to map out a route for this evening’s challenge, all the while not knowing if I still have a job.
Thank God Marlon isn’t here. He never comes on the road with the show. It’s all up to me and the other field producers to make it work. Marlon’s specialty is the Hacienda and playing God from the control room. My specialty is being on location.
Or it was, until I ruined my life because my mouth forgot how to form the word “no.”
It’s a long beating of a day. By the time the crew and I get back to the hotel that afternoon, we only have half an hour to regroup before the first challenge is scheduled to begin. Desperate to find Kat, I’m relieved to spot her in the hotel lobby having coffee with Matt.
“Matt, can we have a minute?” I ask after storming straight toward them.
In response to the fury in my eyes, he stretches, groans and vacates the lobby. Kat looks up at me from the restored antique sofa she’s perched upon, lips pursed in disappointment.
No less defensive than I was before, I go on attack. “You want to explain to me why you’re escorting women into Elliot’s room with no warning or discussions?”
Kat blinks her big blue eyes like I said the most offensive thing possible. “Excuse me? Is this a lecture on appropriate professional behavior?”
Ignoring the dig, I press on. “I mean, what was the plan? Leave them there to eat cookies and get to know each other better?”
Kat gives me a withering glare. “And you thought I was stupid for sleeping with the boss.”
She was. Very stupid, but that’s beside the point.
“You promised me you wouldn’t try to sneak him any women. You know how badly that can backfire, and I told you not to, but you went ahead and did it anyway?—”
“Give it a rest, Ginger!” she whisper-shouts. “You’re fucking the star of the show. Don’t you dare try to make it out like I’m the bad guy here— you could lose your job .”
The words jolt me back to reality. My mouth snaps shut. Here I am, so angry at my friend I could spit, and I managed to back-burner the only thing that matters at the end of all this—my terms of employment. “It was one time .”
“Oh, whatever. I don’t believe that for a second. We all saw that huge hickey you were trying to cover up in the redwoods. This has been going on since the beginning. Probably since the end of last season. Am I right?”
I step back, putting some distance between us to get some much-needed air. It doesn’t help.
“His dick must be really magical for you to be putting your job on the line, and for Jenna to be crawling back here for another shot at it. How could you be so stupid?”
“I don’t have to listen to this.” I start to walk away, but before I take a step, Kat clamps her hand over my wrist.
“You’re done, right? It’s all out of your system? This won’t ever happen again?”
I can’t make my mouth move—can’t form the words I know I have to say to have the barest sliver of hope I won’t be fired and blackballed in the entire industry. Promising never to touch Elliot again is like swearing off carbs—it’s a vow that can only last so long before the temptation gets to be too much. I know. I’ve tried.
“Wait. You’re not in love with him, are you?” Kat’s tone is gentler, but only slightly. There’s still the ring of judgment in it that sets my teeth on edge.
“Of course not.”
“Because you can’t be together. Like—ever. You know that, right?”
“I know how the show works.”
“So you’ll forget about him and keep your distance, yes?”
I wrench my wrist out of Kat’s grip before hiking the strap of my messenger bag higher onto my shoulder. “Would you rather I quit? You can be in charge of Elliot and the women, and you can bring whoever the fuck you want into his room at all hours without me telling you what to do?”
In retrospect, it’s a hysterical question—one I can’t defend. It screams jealousy and fear. But for the first time—the bigger fear isn’t losing my job—it’s losing Elliot. The truth hits me like a runaway train. How did this happen? When? Was it the strawberries? Versailles?
God—I can’t stand this!
Despite my obvious unraveling, Kat doesn’t change her tone. “You have worked too hard for too long to let a man who can’t keep his dick in his pants destroy your career. You told me that once. Those are your words. I can’t stand Jenna either, but the truth is—he’s fighting her being here because they have feelings for each other—real ones. He’s only avoiding them by messing around with you. That’s how he is—it’s how men are.”
I bite my lip, not finding a whole lot to argue in what Kat’s saying.
“He didn’t come here to find Mrs. Right. He came here to find a broodmare—a rebound he could settle in with for the long haul so he wouldn’t have to deal with how she hurt him last season.”
Kat’s ability to summarize all my doubts in one sentence is both impressive and massively triggering.
“If there’s no chance he’ll fall for anyone else, why would you bring Cassie to his room?” I ask.
“To set her up as next season’s star. Elliot’s gonna pick Jenna. She’ll break him down, win his heart, and they’ll ride off into our scripted sunset together, and that’ll be that. Love is gonna win the day. He won’t be able to resist her. She’s a force.”
The words ring so true, they hurt.
All I have to do is remember how undone Elliot was after the last elimination at the Hacienda. How Jenna upset him so much he needed to take a break, and I hadn’t let him. I want so much to believe the things he told me last night, but it’s so much easier to believe I’ve been right all along. I’m a distraction. A way for him to avoid feeling the hurt and confusion Jenna left him with.
“Ginger, I love you. God knows we all do, but you’ve got to get out of the way, because this is the story we’ve been waiting to tell on this show.”
I know. It was my idea. But Kat, at least, has the benefit of perspective. And she’s right.
Kat’s face finally loses the glacial facade. “You aren’t actually falling for him, are you? Oh, Ginger...honey...it can’t be you...”
Right again. There’s no chance. There’s no loophole. There’s only making the show a success even if it breaks my heart. Elliot is contractually obligated to find a happy ending. And I have to get out of the way.
The first lost in Paris adventure is not the fun, problem-solving romp through a foreign city it’s intended to be but is instead entirely about Elliot convincing Elizabeth every shadow isn’t a rat, and that they’re still on Earth—not lost in space with no roads or signs. He and The Panel look thoroughly exhausted by the end of the evening, and it’s no big surprise—although it is great TV—when Michelle and Natalie take it upon themselves to send Elizabeth packing as soon as they arrive at the cafe they were tasked to locate.
Michelle isn’t even nice about it. “Look, it’s a bad fit,” she says as her dark hair blows wildly across her face. Elizabeth, after her trying evening, sobs uncontrollably.
Elliot, without an ounce of regret on his face as he stands with Irene on the other side of the cafe?, gives Elizabeth a nonchalant shrug and tells her he’s sorry it didn’t work out. He wishes her luck, and the crew whisks the virgin away.
While the restaurant staff mutter things in French and sweep the floor between our chair legs, Matt, Kat, and I have an impromptu production meeting to decide whether or not we need to go through the motions of a Panel elimination at the end of the week.
No one expected Elizabeth to be sent home so abruptly, but it’s our practice on the show to give The Panel complete autonomy at this stage, so long as they save at least two women for the finale. If they keep going at this rate, though, Elliot’s choice at the end will be Jenna or Jenna.
“We can’t let them send anyone else home,” Kat says. “That’ll totally screw up the production schedule.”
“They won’t.” Matt doesn’t elaborate, but he’s the one closest to The Panel. “I’ll talk to Lavonne.”
Lavonne is the only one on the payroll, so we have the most influence over her, but she’s known for serving the intentions of the show more than petty production concerns. She does whatever the fuck she wants, in other words.
“We need to deal with Cassie,” Kat says.
I weigh the likelihood of one of the pissed-off waiters being cool with swapping out my coffee with a bottle of wine.
“Why?” Matt asks.
Kat cuts a glance my way.
“He knows,” I mumble.
Kat’s jaw drops. She turns an incredulous glare on Matt. “You knew about them?”
Matt glances between the two of us. “You told her?”
Kat answers. “I walked in on them last night.”
Matt isn’t pleased. Folding his arms over his broad chest, he turns his disappointed dad eyes on me. “Thought that was an accident. A one-time thing.”
I could die. I’d rather die than have this conversation.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kat’s frustration is all aimed at Matt for the moment, tempting me to run far, far away.
“Because it wasn’t supposed to happen again,” he growls, clearly pissed at us both. “What kind of mess are we in?”
I burst. “I’ll leave, okay? I’ll pack my shit, and I’ll quit. You guys can fix it. You can handle the rest. None of it meant anything.” I’m about to break down again, and I’d rather do it after being cast out on the streets of Paris so I won’t have to listen to them talk about what a train wreck I created.
Matt waves a hand to clear the air. “No one’s leaving. Calm down. Let’s take this one landmine at a time. What does Cassie have to do with anything?”
“She was with me when I found them,” Kat says.
Matt’s dark eyes zero in on me. “She saw you?”
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
“She saw enough,” Kat says, “But she doesn’t know it was Ginger.”
Matt turns his accusatory glare in Kat’s direction. “I’m not sure I want to know what you and Cassie were doing in Elliot’s room last night...”
“She had these macarons?—”
I kick Kat’s foot under the table, silencing her for the moment.
Matt’s clearly had enough of both of us. He pushes back his chair, rising from the table. “I’ll deal with this.”
We sit down to meet with Cassie at dawn in the hotel restaurant. Her bags are packed, and she’s determined to leave. We’re equally determined to make her stay, and we’re prepared to pull out all the stops.
“Holden hired an escort for Elliot,” Kat says, all smooth. “None of us knew about it until after the fact, and he’s in serious trouble for it. We are so sorry this happened. I can guarantee you when we get back to the States, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
Kat’s lie is so ridiculous and disgusting, I can’t even meet Cassie’s eyes.
“An escort? He had sex with a prostitute? In Paris?”
“Elliot’s been struggling a little. We can see why Holden thought it would help, but bottom line is—nothing like this will ever happen again. Elliot spoke with Matt this morning, and he’d like to see you before you make up your mind about leaving. It’ll be totally private. No cameras, no microphones. None of us—including Elliot—want you to go. Not like this, Cass.”
Matt talked to Elliot? That’s news to me. I might not have been fired yet, but clearly the show is moving on without my input. No one trusts me anymore. To keep an eye on me, Kat spent the night in my room, both of us sullenly silent until I fell into a fitful sleep only to wake up to this bullshit.
Cassie rolls her eyes. “I can’t imagine what he could possibly say to change my mind.”
“Hear him out,” Matt insists. “He feels terrible for what happened.”
“He should,” she says bitterly, scooting her coffee cup away. “When does this have to happen?”
“He’s ready now if you are.”
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with.” Slamming her hands on the table, Cassie pushes herself to standing.
After a cutting look from Kat, Matt stands, too. “I’ll walk you.”
Once they’re out of earshot, I break my silence. “A hooker? Really?”
“Don’t look at me like that. Better Holden than you, am I right?”
Of course she isn’t right! “Does Elliot know what you told her?”
“Matt and I both talked to him before we came down here. He’s fine with it.”
I doubt that. “Don’t you dare tell me Holden knows, too.”
“Holden thinks you hired the escort.” Kat snickers at that.
“This is so disgusting. You’re horrible.”
Ignoring the insult, Kat pushes her chair back to stand.
“So...you know Elliot better than the rest of us. Obviously. You think he can convince Cassie to stay?”