3. 3
Iwas going to kill Hunter.
I could murder him in his sleep. Or maybe add cyanide to his morning coffee. The options were endless, really, when living in someone’s home.
Blinking back into my current situation, I tried to get a grip. Harriet couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t be saying what I thought she was.
Suddenly, it was clear: this was a prank. Something set up by Blair to make me laugh. Or make me feel better. It wasn’t a very good prank, to be honest. I would have rather stayed in bed watching teenage vampires for a few more hours than gotten on the Tube today but here we were.
“Did Blair set you up to this?” I asked Harriet.
I looked around, wondering if Blair were going to pop out from under the table at any moment to say “Gotcha!”
“I’m sorry, who is Blair?” Harriet said.
She was looking at me like I was the crazy one. Like it was me who was pulling one over on her.
So, this wasn’t a setup.
She was seriously meeting with me about being on TV.
On a reality show.
What a trip.
“Look, it seems like we’ve misunderstood each other,” Harriet pressed on.
“I’m casting the new season of our biggest show.
We had a contestant who had to pull out, and I need to recast immediately.
Your resume was forwarded on to us and since there was no headshot included, my team went ahead and did a bit of a dive into your socials. ”
They what?
Harriet clicked a button on a remote, and my Instagram feed was suddenly projected onto a large screen at the end of the conference room.
I was stunned into silence as I looked up at my face. Harriet had pulled up a photo of me from my last birthday. It was before my life imploded, and I was smiling and happy, a girl who thought she had it all.
“We normally stick to the UK for casting,” Harriet continued, “But we want to use this recast as an opportunity to do something different. Bringing in someone from America is just what we’ve been looking for.
” She clicked through more of my pictures as I remained still, watching my previously well-curated life literally flash before my eyes.
Family photos, nights out with friends, images of him.
One picture after another, one memory after the next.
I couldn’t have felt further away from that girl on the screen as I did now, sitting in this conference room, trying to take deep calming breaths so not to lose it completely.
“We like that you’re a bit of an enigma to us,” Harriet was saying. “That your feed isn’t cluttered with makeup tutorials. Our focus groups want us to pull away from the traditional influencer type and more towards the ‘every girl,’ and we think you’re exactly that.”
Harriet finally paused and looked over at me. The panic I was trying to suppress must have been projected across my face because she set down the remote and leaned forward, softening her gaze.
“I can tell this is not what you expected. I’m not sure what circumstances led you to this room, but I can guarantee that this opportunity isn’t one that will come around again.
” She let her words settle around us and even though we were talking about a reality show, I felt a certain gravity to what she was saying.
She looked at me for a beat longer before dropping her voice an octave and whispering, “It’s essentially a paid holiday, just with a few cameras sprinkled about.”
I nodded back at her. I had no idea what to say. No idea what to feel, really.
“You can have the rest of the day to think about it, but we will need to know if you’re moving forward by the morning.” With that, she stood, signaling that she’d said all she needed to and the meeting was over.
I followed her out of the conference room and to the reception area, where she handed me a business card and fixed her gaze onto mine. “I really hope you give this a chance, Poppy.”
And then she turned and walked away, down the hallway toward the conference room we had just occupied. Just like that, and without much fuss, our time was over.
The world around me contracted and then sped up as I watched her go.
Before she got too far, I called out, having finally found my voice.
“What’s the show called?”
Harriet turned and grinned at me, as though she knew some secret I didn’t. As though her impending answer held the key to solving all of life’s problems.
“Bella Amore.”