Chapter 34 Adi #2
With a heavy sigh, Adi got up and shut the door before approaching Ranielle’s desk. An email was open on the screen, half-finished—a communication between Ranielle and someone at Hitflix.
Adi’s own name caught his eye. He skimmed the email in disbelief. He hadn’t even accepted the deal yet, but Ranielle was already promising that he would be the next host—person of color, gorgeous, clever, loved by the audience, witty enough to bounce off his cohost.
How much did Hitflix buying the next season hinge on him saying yes?
And a better question . . . Was that what he wanted?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know.
He scanned to the bottom of the email, where his audition video was embedded, along with brief notes.
Season Five Audition Video: Aditya Parvesh
Producer notes:
Having regrets.
Although the kid seemed witty—loved the phony comment.
And he is gorgeous. The next Alicia?
The next Alicia? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Footsteps in the hall made him jump. He looked up, holding his breath until the footsteps hurried away.
No time to waste. He typed Sweetbrier into the file search.
The first folder that popped up said Sweetbrier Resort—Season 6. It was full of documents, pdfs, photos, even video files. Jackpot.
A cart beside the desk held bins full of Escape Game–branded swag and merchandise. Adi grabbed one of the USBs and inserted it into the computer port.
He hesitated. This could have a lot of top-secret information about the resort. What would his dad think? Would he be angry if he found out?
Then again, Victor Cunningham did sort of owe Beck and his family after buying their land so cheaply.
He could have chosen to share a portion of the treasure, but he hadn’t.
If there really was more gold out there, and Beck had any hope of finding it .
. . what could be the harm? It wasn’t like he was going to use these files to infiltrate the resort and pull off a heist or something.
He began to copy the files over.
“Call the electrician, get them here ASAP. Find whoever the fuck is doing this!”
Ranielle’s voice was close. Too close.
Adi drummed his fingers on the desk, watching as the bar showing the download’s progress ticked slowly, slowly . . .
“Come on, come on, come on . . .”
The doorknob turned.
The door started to open.
Adi reached for the USB. The download was almost there. Almost—
The door stilled. “Symphony, I swear to god, if you don’t leave right now I’m calling security.”
“Oh, now who’s being melodramatic?” came his mother’s saccharine reply.
Download complete.
Adi snatched the USB from the port as Ranielle threw the door open. A lifetime of living with Symphony had Adi’s body reacting without conscious thought.
Get rid of the evidence.
He went to slide the USB into his pocket. Only when he heard it drop on the carpet did he remember he wasn’t wearing his favorite jeans.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ranielle said.
“Admiring your desk.” Adi searched for the USB with his tennis shoe. “Is this mahogany?”
Ranielle’s nostrils flared as Symphony walked in behind her. “Is annoying me a hereditary trait?”
Oh crap. The folder was still open.
“Uh—not sure that’s been scientifically proven,” said Adi. “But either way, you’re going to have to tolerate me a while longer.” He spread his arms. “Congratulations! I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.”
Ranielle’s eyebrows flew up.
Symphony planted her hands on her hips. “No, Aditya, you and I must discuss—”
“There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve made up my mind. Ranielle, we have a deal. Adi Parvesh, cohost of The Escape Game, starting season six.”
Seeing the look on his mother’s face made the whole selling-his-soul thing almost worthwhile.
“Well,” said Ranielle, her shoulders sinking visibly. “That’s excellent to hear. Truly excellent.”
He thought he’d overdone it, but clearly Ranielle’s mind was buzzing with things like Hitflix deals and annoying celebrities. And murder.
Adi dragged the USB toward him as Ranielle turned to Symphony. “Our business here is concluded. And I wasn’t joking about calling security.”
Symphony’s face reddened. “I will be discussing this with my people. And Victor.”
Adi’s pulse jolted.
He was tempted to call out as Symphony stomped from the room, but instead he used Ranielle’s distraction to exit the folder that contained everything she had about Victor’s resort.
As the door slammed closed, Adi bent for the USB but had to jump up again as Ranielle turned back to him.
“I’m glad you and I could come to an agreement.
” She moved around the desk, ushering Adi to the other side so she could reclaim her office chair.
“I trust you’ll take the extra assistance, then. ”
“I’ll—what?” Adi’s thoughts shifted away from the USB lying beside Ranielle’s fancy pointed heels.
“I told you. I don’t have losers on my staff. You’ll take the cheats, and your team will win the season.”
Adi hesitated.
“What’s the matter?” Ranielle said. “You don’t think your team deserves a million dollars?” Her face soured. “Or are you still agonizing over your integrity?”
She said the word “integrity” like it was something to be ashamed of. But there was a satisfaction to defeating each room, each challenge, using his own skills. His and his team’s.
And if it ever came out that he’d cheated, what would his father think?
“You believe your team can win on their own?” Her lips curved into a tight smile. “You’ve barely been clinging on each week. And knowing what I do about Team Dread’s next move, you don’t want to walk out of here without the advantage.”
Damn Team Dread. Another snag. They were so focused on Helsing when Mind Hack had clearly been the stronger competitor.
Adi flinched when he realized what he’d thought.
Team Dread had won every round. Mind Hack was a stronger competitor.
Ranielle was right.
“Come on, Aditya,” Ranielle said. “Do you want to win, or not?”
Adi walked down the corridor, mind spinning.
What had he done?
Panic buzzed in his ears. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go. This wasn’t—
“Adi?” Adi spun around as Fitzy stuck his head out of an open door. “Aren’t you supposed to be in makeup?”
“Aren’t you?”
Adi hadn’t meant to snap, but the last thing he’d wanted was to be caught coming out of Ranielle’s office, especially by the guy whose job he was about to take.
“I’m on my way,” Fitzy said, stepping from the room. “I just had . . .” He gestured inside. “Packing to do.”
Adi caught the name LOUIS AUGUSTUS RUSSELL on the door plaque and piles of boxes on the desk. “Shouldn’t that be an intern’s job?”
Fitzy’s face twisted bitterly. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But Ranielle doesn’t trust anyone else in there. Don’t know why. It’s not like he kept his puzzles and notes in his dressing room.”
“Hey!” They turned as Vera stormed around the corner. “What are you doing?”
“Playing laser tag,” Fitzy said. “What does it look like, mate?”
“I am not your mate.” She eyed the empty bookshelves past the door. “Why were you in Louis’s dressing room?”
“Because apparently tedious tasks are in my job description.” For the first time, Adi noticed that Fitzy was losing his temper. “What’s your problem now, Vera? It’s bad enough I lost a guy who was practically a father. I don’t need any more hell from you.”
Vera leveled him with a look and shut Louis’s door. The reptilian tail on her shoulder twitched as she locked it.
“I’m looking forward to the day I no longer have to deal with you,” she spat, then turned and stalked back the way she came.
“That day would come sooner if you’d quit,” Fitzy said, earning an over-the-shoulder glare.
“Seriously,” said Adi. “What’s her problem?”
Even he had enough decorum to appreciate when someone was grieving.
“She’s bananas, isn’t she?” said Fitzy as they headed toward makeup. “You’d think a social media manager would be, you know, social.” There was a beat of silence before Fitzy said, “I didn’t know she had a key to his dressing room.”
Now that Adi thought about it, yeah, that seemed odd.
Fitzy scoffed. “For a second I . . . Nah.” He waved his hand as if batting away an idea.
“What?” Adi said.
“Well . . .” Fitzy pursed his lips. “Do you think she’s glad those creepy clues will stop now that Louis is gone?” Before Adi could ask exactly what he was implying, Fitzy changed the subject. “Saw your mum raging down the corridor earlier. Sheesh. She makes Vera look like sunshine and rainbows.”
Adi stepped aside to let a set designer push a covered trolley past. “Yeah. It’s great having a mom who only cares about me when I’m useful.”
“Useful?”
“Like giving her a free pass to Ranielle Russell. Beyond that, I could walk off a cliff and she wouldn’t bat an eyelid.”
“I know what that’s like,” Fitzy said. “My dad kicked me out when my stepmom had a baby. Who wants a moody teenager when they can have a widdle bubba that’s all theirs?”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Ranielle and Louis took me under their wing after I moved to the States. They liked what I did back home—some soapies and stuff. And my agent is friends with Ranielle. When he introduced me, she was keen to have me as the face of the show. I took the gig and never looked back.” Fitzy stopped Adi before the corner that led to the makeup room, his brow drawn. “Can I ask you a question?”
Trepidation crept across Adi. It was bad enough that his mom used him. If Fitzy was about to ask for some sort of Hollywood connection through Symphony . . .
“I was wondering if . . .” Fitzy scratched beneath his shirt collar. “Being Carter’s teammate and all, I was curious . . .”
Oh no. This was even worse. Anything but sappy teen romance drama.
Fitzy plowed on. “Has she mentioned me? Or does she, like, have a boyfriend back home, or . . . ?”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Adi, willfully pretending he hadn’t noticed how Carter swooned every time Fitzy entered the soundstage these days. “We’re not that close.”
“Right. Yeah. Of course.” Fitzy looked downcast. “Not like I could do anything about it, anyway. If Ranielle found out, my ass would be gone.”
Adi didn’t answer. Fitzy was already gone, even if he didn’t know it yet. And once Fitzy was fired and the season was wrapped up . . .
“So you’re actually serious about her?” Adi regretted it the moment the words were out. This was none of his business. More than that—he didn’t care about Fitzy’s love life, or Carter’s, for that matter. “Never mind.”
“Nah, it’s cool,” said Fitzy. “We’re not supposed to get involved with the contestants.
Ranielle’s real strict about that. I never cared before, but it’s different with Carter.
She’s different. You know? Like, she’s so awkward in person.
” He chuckled. “I mean that as a compliment, I swear. Not like the fake Hollywood types you usually meet around here. But then you see her videos and she’s so smart and confident, and sexy as hell when she’s explaining math-y things I don’t understand. ”
Adi stared, wondering if Fitzy was as oblivious as he pretended.
Carter, not one of those fake Hollywood types?
Sure, she had turned out to be a competent teammate, and Adi had to admit that she wasn’t anything like he’d expected.
But she hid behind a cartoon. She wore grungy pajamas at the villas but those ridiculous outfits whenever she was out in public. She was an influencer.
“How often do you find a girl who’s that smart, and that beautiful?” Fitzy went on. Apparently, yes, he really was that oblivious. “But this gig is everything to me. Not just because it’s literally the best job in the world, but also . . .”
“Also what?”
“There’s this little green card issue. As long as I’m employed here, it’s all golden, but if I lost this gig . . .” He grimaced. “Well. Back to Oz we go.”