The Accidental Honeymoon (Wildflower Lane #1)

Chapter 42

forty-two

WREN

“Okay, everyone. These are all good ideas for the shoot next month.” Marcus White, the director of the new reality show, Heartbreak Island, sits back in his chair and peers down the long conference table. “Mostly, I just wanted everyone to meet and mingle. Get to know each other before we fly to a tiny island and film for six weeks. We’ll all be on top of each other there. To avoid tension, I’d like you to pair off into same sex room assignments. This is not summer camp, so you can pick whoever you’d like. Anyone who doesn’t pick will get randomly assigned a roommate.”

“Elena?” He looks to his left at Elena Pérez, the show’s head executive producer. “Is there anything you’d like to add?”

“No. You have done a wonderful job of that, Marcus.” Elena speaks with a strong Spanish accent, so when she says his name it sounds like Marc-yus. She stands up, her bright yellow power suit doing all the talking for her, and spreads her hands wide. “I really look forward to working with you all. Make sure you get some rest so that you can be at the top of your game when we touch down in the Bahamas.”

She’s so confident and cool. She announces what she thinks. The best part? She is very powerful, so when she talks, people listen .

God, I so want to be her when I grow up. I look down at my baggy, retro Killers T-shirt and worn-out checkered Vans. I have a long way to go.

The meeting breaks up, everyone talking amongst themselves. There are a handful of young producers like myself, both guys and girls, that seem to be deciding who will sleep where. A lot of the older producers, sound engineers, and camera crew are walking out of the conference room already.

They have been on a set before. Likely, they’re working with the same people as they have on previous shoots. Rooming with one of them is… unlikely. I swallow.

A little bit of my brother Jay’s gregariousness would go a long way about now. But he got all the charm and outgoing-ness. I’m much shyer and more introverted. One of my friends described me once as “looking like I’m perpetually on the way to the library”. I feel like that’s apt.

The library is, in fact, one of my favorite places to be. What’s not my favorite? Being here, right now, staring awkwardly at the young producers as they chat.

Say something. Anything.

Yeah, no. I pick up the packet of paper that was distributed during the meeting and flee the room.

As I’m leaving, a young woman with fiery orange hair, black leggings, and an oversized Echo and the Bunnymen T-shirt raises a pierced eyebrow at me.

“…bye? ”

I stop at the door, flushing, and give her an awkward wave. “Uh, bye.”

She stares at me for a few more seconds then turns back to her conversation. “What was I saying?”

Another successful conversation with a coworker! I groan to myself. Loping down the hallway, I collapse into the worn swivel chair in the production room and rub my temples.

I take a deep breath. It’s the kind that fills your lungs with hope. Despite the embarrassment and exhaustion, I'm thrilled. My first day as a producer is in the can. I didn’t totally screw it up.

Thank God Jay recommended me for this gig. It's a breath of fresh air after two years working as a PA for his company and waitressing on the side. Even if it’s left me feeling like a wrung-out dishrag, I’m a slightly more independent dishrag. That’s what matters.

I worked my butt off to get here. Now that I can actually sink my teeth into the job, there's no way I'm letting it go without a fight. I pull out my phone to text Jay a quick thank you.

The door swings open with a thud and Elena strides in. Her black hair is a so shiny that I’m momentarily enraptured. Behind her trails Marcus, looking like a puppy who just got scolded. I sit up straighter. Elena is the kind of woman who commands a room with just a glance. I’ve admired her from afar for years.

I look around the room. Clearly, I’m in here. They can see me… right?

"One of the bachelorettes has backed out." Elena’s Spanish accent slices through the air like a hot knife through butter. She pinches her fingers together as she gestures. "She was a real character. A proven drama starter. "

My heart skips a beat. This is big. I try to make myself as small as possible. It’s like a mouse hiding from a cat. Still, I’m dying to hear what they say next. For the next few months, this show is my whole life. If it tanks, so does my shot at a real career in production.

"We could bring in a ringer." Mark scratches his head. "Someone with the same… qualities."

Elena crosses her arms. She looks unconvinced. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find another perfect specimen? Melanie was perfect . Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect tetas . She was a power yoga instructor. Have you ever tried to touch your heel to the back of your head? Because Melanie could. She was the whole package."

I wonder what Elena would say about me right now. My long, mousy brown hair is a frizzy mess. My comically large glasses are smudged. My oversized T-shirt looks like something a toddler would swim in. I’ve never been hip or magnetic like Jay. He’s the guy with the perfect Instagram life. I’m the girl in the background, hiding behind a camera.

Basically, I’m none of the things that made Melanie perfect. What does that leave for the rest of us? Not much.

Feeling low, I start to slink out of the room. Then I trip over … well, I’m not sure. The floor, maybe?

Classic Wren . I brace for impact.

A strong hand catches me and turns me around. It’s Elena. "Are you all right?" She sounds more curious than concerned as she helps me stand.

“Fine!” I insist, brushing my knees off. “See, no harm done. I’ll just get out of your way.”

Elena doesn’t turn me loose. “Who are you?”

“Me?” I am sure I turn red as a tomato. “I’m Wren Rustin. You hired me as a producer.”

Her eyes narrow in contemplation. Marcus comes to my rescue. “Wren is Jay Rustin’s little sister. You know, that guy whose face you see everywhere?”

“I don’t know him,” Elena answers in a flat tone. “But you have pretty eyes, carina.” She smooths back my hair. “So blue! You should wear your hair up more, let them do some of the talking for you.”

I’m entranced by her touch. Gulping, I nod. Then Elena gives me a once-over. I can almost see the gears in her head turning.

"What about a ringer?" she asks. "If we used someone from the crew, we could control the storyline. It would be excelente ."

Mark’s eyes light up. “That would be a lot cheaper than hiring someone new. We could script the drama. Make it more believable."

I scrunch my face. Why is he acting like this wasn’t his idea?

My stomach does a somersault. My very first thought is no . Absolutely not. This is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas.

Elena tilts her head. She’s still staring at me. "You would have to 'win' the show. Make the bachelor choose you. We need the drama.” She pauses. She considers her next words. "We need you to fill in for Melanie. Just temporarily. We’ll glam you up. Make sure you ‘win.’"

I can’t think of a bigger nightmare.

"I’m really more comfortable behind the scenes." My voice is shaky. "I’m a shy girl. Uncomfortable on camera. I don’t even like having my picture taken."

Elena isn’t listening. Or maybe she’s ignoring me. "Would you like a hundred thousand dollars? I could arrange that to be your bonus if you played along. Plus, a promotion. We’re counting on you, Wren. Remember, you must win the show."

A hundred grand? My mind races. The promotion would mean job security. My first venture outside of working for Jay would be a success. God, I really want that.

I make a face. “I’m not even the type of girl usually featured on these shows. They’re poised and polished. I’m… something else.”

“We could fix that for you.” Marcus sizes me up. “A haircut, a new wardrobe. Maybe we’d whiten your teeth so they pop on camera…”

My hand flies up to my mouth. What’s wrong with my teeth?

Elena grabs my hand. “You are the perfect ringer. You are the right age, the right height, the right…” Her eyes travel to my waist. “Well, I can’t see what kind of body you have. But it doesn’t matter. In a month, you could be ready. And I could be writing you the biggest check you could imagine.”

The money is pretty damn tantalizing. I’m trapped. They know it. "I… Okay." My voice is barely a whisper.

" Excellente ." Elena’s tone is firm. "This will do wonders for your career."

They leave the conference room. I follow on unsteady legs, wondering what I have just agreed to. I’m not cut out for this kind of attention. I can’t even handle a staff meeting without breaking into a cold sweat.

As we step outside, I suddenly stop, doing a double take. “What is he doing here?”

By him, I mean Ryan fucking Haart. He’s leaning against a wall, all casual arrogance. My heart does that stupid flutter thing it’s been doing since I was twelve. He’s a perfect specimen. Even more so in person. Tall. Blond. The kind of blue eyes that make you believe in clichés. His abs have abs.

He’s also fucking awful to me. Literally the meanest boy I’ve ever met.

Elena waves. "Ryan, we should talk about your agent.”

But Ryan’s eyes are on me. He looks shocked. No, wait. More like horrified.

Great . I feel my face go hot.

"Wren?" He looks like he can’t believe I exist. "What are you doing here?"

“Why are you on my set?” I blurt out. “Seems like we all have questions.”

"Ryan, Wren. Please. We’re introducing Wren as the new bachelorette." Elena’s tone is calm. "Don’t worry. We’ll take care of her. She’s in good hands."

Ryan laughs, but he looks so dismayed that it’s hard not to take it personally.

Elena gets a call. “Oh, let me take this, Wren. I’ll be right back.”

And then she leaves us alone in the hallway together. An awkward silence settles in. Ryan scratches the back of his neck. It’s a gesture I’ve come to recognize as his tell. He’s uncomfortable. That makes two of us.

"So." He drags out the word. "You’re really doing this?"

I shrug. "I don’t have a choice. They’re making me."

He laughs. It sounds forced. "This is going to be interesting."

"Why are you here, Ryan?" I already know the answer. I just want to hear him say it.

"Jay didn’t tell you?" He sounds surprised. "I’m the next bachelor. "

My jaw clenches. “He might have mentioned something about it. I try to tune Jay out when he gives me updates on your life.”

A part of me in the back of my head says, Yeah. Of course Ryan is the bachelor that you’re supposed to lust after. You didn’t think getting that $100k was going to be easy, did you?

“You’re a contestant now?” Ryan folds his arms across his chest and smirks. “You’re never going to win. You realize that, right?”

My hands ball into fists. His constant leer makes me feel violent .

“And you’re the worst human being ever. It’s hard to choose between Scylla and Charybdis.”

Ryan blinks. “I don’t even know what that means. No one does.”

“Charybdis was a sea monster who could become a giant whirlpool. Scylla was a monster who was part human, part fish, with three dog heads?—”

“Jesus, Chirp.” He uses the cruel childhood nickname that he tormented me with. “Are you kidding with that story? Get to the point already.”

“Fine.” I glare at him. “Idiot.”

He studies me for a moment. I can’t read his expression. "Good luck, Wren. You’re going to need it."

I turn to stomp down the hallway, but Ryan stops me with his question. "Hey, Wren. Remember that time we played truth or dare in your basement?"

I freeze. How could I forget? It was the night I thought my heart would explode from sheer joy. Then shatter from crushing disappointment. All at Ryan’s hands.

"I remember." My voice is tight. "What about it? "

He pauses. For a moment I think he’s going to apologize. Instead, he says, "I dared you to kiss me. You chickened out. You realize that you’re going to have to do a lot more than kiss me while the world watches?”

“In your dreams, jerkoff.” I wince. It sounded cooler in my head. As I walk away, he calls after me.

“Bye, Chirp. I’ll be seeing you real soon.”

I walk away. My heart pounds in my ears. This is going to be a disaster.

As I’m opening the door to the parking lot, Elena catches up with me. "Don’t worry about Ryan." She sounds so calm. "He’ll play along."

I bolt toward my car, desperate to escape. "Why didn’t you tell him I’m just filling in? That I’m still part of the crew?"

Elena smiles. It’s the kind of smile that holds secrets . "Because the audience isn’t the only one we need to convince."

I’m speechless. This woman is a genius. A manipulative, brilliant genius. Or a psycho. I’m not sure which.

"Trust me, Wren." Her tone is confident. "This will be good for you."

“Thanks,” I mumble. She squeezes my shoulder and then turns away, back toward the building.

I slide into my seat. I close the door but I don’t start the engine. I just sit and stare at the steering wheel. I try to process everything.

See, Ryan is my tormentor. My almost bully. He’s also the guy I’ve never gotten over. Thanks to Ryan being best friends with my brother, he’s been a fixture in my life since I was still in braces and pigtails.

Ryan picks on me relentlessly . I’ve always suspected it’s because he knows how I feel. But if that’s true, his reaction to my never said out loud feelings is inappropriate. And mean .

I thought I was getting out in the world. I thought I was stretching my wings. Now I’m not so sure.

One thing is certain. I’m in way over my head.