Chapter Eight #2
James stepped in front of me to open the guest room door anyway, then stood aside so I could walk in. I saw the bed and wanted to lie down, but the kind butler had taken hold of my hand and led me to the adjoining bathroom.
“There’s some pain reliever in this medicine cabinet,” James said, opening the mirrored glass doors.
I leaned against the vanity as he poured a glass of water, then handed me two pills. I popped them down, too embarrassed to make eye contact. “I’m sorry.”
He took the empty glass from me. “You’ve said that already.”
“Not to you,” I pointed out.
“It’s no bother,” James assured me. “We just want you to feel better,” he said.
I grunted. “I’m sure your boss would rather I leave.” My eyes opened wider than they had since I started drinking the champagne. “Hey, do you think I could? Would someone drive me home?”
James frowned. “You signed a contract. The production company could sue you for breach. And Cliff… Mr. Walker, wouldn’t want you to quit. Don’t make too much of what happened. Everything will be better tomorrow.”
I wiped a hand over my mouth, realizing I was sweating.
“I must look awful. And I made a fool of myself.” I thought about how my parents, Melody, and coworkers had watched the fiasco, and I wished I could die.
They must have been so disappointed in me as well as embarrassed to know me.
I reached to brush away another bead of sweat, but realized it was a tear.
To my surprise, James pulled me into a hug. “I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but you seem like you could use it.”
I swallowed and pulled away, my composure returning. “I’m sorry.”
James grinned. “You’ve established that.”
I pointed at his neatly pressed white shirt. “This time, I meant for getting you rumpled.”
He led me from the bathroom to the bed. “Do you need help undressing?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Cliff would be upset if I left you here, then you hurt yourself falling,” he explained. “I promise I’m not creeping on you.” Of course he wasn’t. Only a lunatic would find me attractive after my performance.
I nodded, but that motion made me wobble a smidge. “Just need to lie down.”
“Here, let me help you,” James said when he saw me grab the bedpost for stability. He helped me remove the suit jacket, then folded it and put it on a nearby chair. I tried to bend down to remove my shoes. “Stop. Sit on the edge of the bed and I’ll do that for you.”
I was beyond protesting. The best thing I could do at this point was follow everyone’s instructions.
Once I was sitting, he untied the laces and gently removed the shoes.
Meanwhile, I unbuttoned my dress shirt, not feeling modest since I had on an undershirt.
James took the shirt from my hands, folded it, and laid it on top of the jacket.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“Pants,” he commanded. My eyes enlarged. “Not creeping, remember? I have a boyfriend and no desire to lose him.”
I stood, unbuckled the belt, then undid the zipper. “That must be nice, huh?”
He waited for me to slide the trousers down my legs, then balanced me as I pulled them over my feet. James doubled them over his arm and added them to the pile of garments I never wanted to see again.
“Having a boyfriend? It’s wonderful, yes. I’d love that for Cliff. To be honest, I’m skeptical about him finding one on the show, though.”
“Why?” I wondered. Maybe I’d get some inside scoop on his boss.
“I imagine most of the guys just hoped to get on television…or will pretend to like him because of his money.” James shook his head.
“Not me. I always felt sorry for rich people. I know that sounds stupid, but they must question who their real friends are.” Now that I was lying on the bed with my head propped on pillows, it seemed I could think and speak more clearly.
“And I sure didn’t want to be on television.
I knew I’d embarrass myself.” I rubbed my temples.
“I’m not in the same league as the other men.
Seeing them… I figured a few drinks would make it easier.
I didn’t think champagne was supposed to have much alcohol.
” I shrugged. “Guess when you don’t drink, it doesn’t take much. ”
“If you didn’t want to be on the show, why did you apply?” James questioned.
I paused. “A part of me wanted to be. I got caught up in a fantasy, carried away by the idea of meeting Cliff Walker and him liking me.” I hiccupped. “Stupid, I know. He’s so good looking.”
“He is,” James agreed.
“But that wouldn’t have been the only reason.
I’ve seen him around town. He’s always nice to people, it seems. And I’ve heard lots of folks in White Pines say he’s helped them out when they needed it, and that he isn’t stuck up about his looks or his money.
” I paused, waiting for another wave of dizziness to pass.
“I was dumb enough to think… Maybe I could have a week of fun just being in his orbit.” I flushed.
“Maybe more. Not as a boyfriend, because I know I’m not good enough. But maybe as friends.”
“Thanks for telling me,” James said.
“I’m wretched, I know.”
James sat on the edge of the bed and patted my shoulder. “Everything you heard about Cliff is true, you know. He is an awesome man.” I nodded. “But the producers wanted you on the show for a reason. I think you’re selling yourself short.”
“Not really. It was my roommate, Aaron, who convinced me to audition. The producers only let me come on because Aaron made it a condition for casting him. They saw Aaron has the potential to win the whole thing, even though he’s straight,” I explained.
“Wait. He’s what?” James asked with alarm.
I panicked. Had I just let that slip? Damn that liquor! “Crap.” I put my head in my hands. “I’m making a mess of everything.”
“Why would the producers want a straight guy on a gay dating program?” James pressed.
There was no point lying about it now. I explained it the best I could through my brain fog.
I walked James through how Aaron and I were not allowed to tell Cliff or the other castmates.
I mentioned that other than a heads up that Aaron had given his parents so they wouldn’t be shocked, he and I would be unable to communicate the plan outside the set because we’d have no access to social media.
I shared how Aaron had agreed to be cast so he could keep an eye on me, and that he planned to pretend he was falling for me—not Cliff—to keep Cliff from mistakenly choosing a straight guy.
“They were going to cast the way they wanted anyway,” I added.
“Aaron is a good guy. An ally. He thought what the producers were doing sucked. He’s just trying to outsmart them and not let them cast some other straight guy who could ruin Cliff’s chances of finding someone. ”
James paced for a couple of moments. “I knew I was right to worry about Cliff doing this program. I observed some of those producers, and I didn’t trust them.
Unfortunately, Cliff tends to have faith in most everyone until they give him a reason not to.
It pisses me off to learn that they’re taking advantage of that. ”
I sighed. “Yeah. But maybe Aaron is the only straight guy they cast. Are you going to tell Cliff? Should I hire a lawyer and be prepared to get my ass sued?”
James contemplated. “I’m not sure how the production company could bring a case against you since you haven’t broken the contract.
You haven’t told Cliff or the other castmates.
If the producers didn’t foresee where you or Aaron could slip the information to one of Cliff’s staff members during an unmonitored moment, that’s their problem. ”
I felt some relief, hoping James was right about the technicality. “Aaron saw another loophole in the contract. It didn’t say he couldn’t inform the viewers directly, which he plans to do during one of the contestant confessionals. He’ll explain to them everything I shared with you.”
James pursed his lips. “He could be pressing his luck. I’m not a lawyer, but that might be relying too much on a perceived omission in the contract.
If nothing else, the producers could boot him from the show, and it sounds like you’re more comfortable with him being here.
Can I think about this and commiserate with you guys later?
” I nodded. “Let’s do what we can to protect Cliff while preventing you or Aaron from getting blowback. ”
“Okay.”
“Don’t think about it anymore tonight. Get some rest. You’ll want to be on your game tomorrow,” he advised.
“Yeah. My game is biggest loser,” I grumbled.
James chuckled. “You can either mope or try to redeem yourself. Besides, you never know. Lots of people might have watched and sympathized. Cliff is very empathetic himself. I doubt that little incident caused irreparable damage.”
“Like I said, I never had a chance anyway.”
“If you believe that, then there’s nothing to lose,” James reasoned. “But I know Cliff, and he’ll be drawn to sincerity and kindness. And contrary to your self-appraisal, I think you’re cute enough to compete with the others.”
“Thank you, James. You’re very nice,” I said.
James shot me an encouraging smile. “A little advice—Cliff also admires resilience and determination. As he tells his employees, a bad first impression doesn’t kill your chances with someone—it’s how you handle it that cements peoples’ opinions of you.”