Chapter 17
Zinnia
If seeing the camera pods camped out on their porch every morning was a grim reminder, Mabel being there too was like meeting the grim reaper. Everything about her—dull skin, chipped nails, bleary eyes—screamed exhausted in ways that only eternal rest could fix.
“Last-minute schedule change,” she croaked. “We’re doing a gender split today. Ladies on an outing. Little men at home.”
“Why?” Jordan asked as he retrieved their mics from the black box.
“Why not? If you’re still upset about Lulie’s little outburst, don’t be.” That wasn’t a suggestion. Mabel’s half-smile read as defeated more than anything else.
Zinnia checked her calendar. Although they filmed chronologically, storyline events were chopped, reordered, and edited to fit the overall narrative of the show.
The Zaffre cold war that had lasted almost two whole weeks was unceremoniously over.
Because today she needed to be a sister-in-law bestie.
Every day could be a new day with a blank slate in the Zaffre house.
Jordan was convinced that a decade of these forced switch-ups had permanently stunted the twins emotionally. He even claimed that if his parents could go back, they’d keep the twins off the show entirely.
She wasn’t sure if she believed that, though.
“Where are they going?” he asked.
“Shopping. The mall.”
Perfectly parallel worry lines appeared between Jordan’s eyebrows. Zinnia reached up and gently smoothed them with her thumb before cupping his jaw and saying, “I think I’ll buy a pair of those shorts we talked about. You’re gonna give yourself heat stroke dressed like that.”
He had his signature black shirt on too—it was hard to not imagine the perfect-for-her arms he was hiding under there.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ve managed to survive this long doing it. I’ll be fine.”
“And so will I. Don’t worry. Text me all you want.”
“All right.”
“Hug me. A ten. Come on.”
He chuckled, finally smiling. She melted in his arms, sighing against his neck and then breathing him in.
He always held her with the perfect amount of pressure—that precarious middle ground between comforting and too much.
Whenever she felt stressed today, which was pretty much guaranteed, she’d flip back to this moment. Her newfound happy place.
Mabel cleared her throat. “Alfie, head to your parents’ room. Zinnia, you’re with me. Let’s go.”
Jordan kissed both of Zinnia’s cheeks, twice, before waving them off as he headed into the house.
“He’s so damn stubborn,” Mabel said as they began walking in the opposite direction. Deciding to personally escort Zinnia to the garage was interesting. “Do you have some kind of weird no-kissing pact too?”
She laughed. “Yes, actually.”
“I swear he enjoys making my life hell. I’d hoped you’d be different, but I never get what I want.”
“Why would you?”
Mabel’s glare came in hot and fast.
“It’s just a question,” she said. “Here’s a different one. I really don’t like the clicker. Can—”
“No.” Mabel almost smiled. “Trust me, you don’t want to pick that fight.
You’re almost out of here. Just tough it out a little bit longer and then you two can go off and…
try your best elsewhere in someone else’s segments.
Let’s just get through the summer, okay?
You’re doing much better than you were.”
ZnO2 Group Chat
ZINNIA: Shopping with Lulie today. Any connection tips?
FIONA: Voluntarily?!
ZINNIA: Surprise schedule change.
GRACE: Interesting choice. I think there was an episode about her wanting to be a personal stylist. I’ll send a link for the summary. Hold on.
FIONA: I remember that! telling your kid “your dreams should be bigger than a hobby” and turning it into a catchphrase was so gross
FIONA: Amber literally went on a talk show circuit to grow their audience with the parental demographic. it worked like you wouldn’t believe
FIONA: I would’ve been impressed if I hadn’t been so horrified
GRACE: Don’t let your guard down. They know you don’t like her, but you admitted ON CAMERA that what Jordan says goes.
ZINNIA: IT WAS THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT!
GRACE: Anyway, the optics of this outing are super suspicious to me. They’re overdue to test how willing you two are to get along for his sake.
With Mabel’s reluctant praise and Grace’s warnings on repeat in her head, she set off for the mall in the Zaffres’ blacked-out SUV with Lulie, Amber, and two all-female camera pods. Burgundy and Pale Orange. Spicy Blonde and Brownie.
They rode in tense silence—the oppressive kind that seeped under her skin and filled her with an anxious fog. She squeezed her hands together between her thighs.
Lulie cracked first without preamble. “Most outfits you wear will be planned from now on. My sister-in-law can’t be running around looking like Mister Rogers’s illegitimate love child.”
“Wrong. He would absolutely claim me,” she joked, which was leagues better than screaming about how weird this was.
“Especially on red carpets,” Lulie pointedly continued on. “A few choice looks and we can establish you as someone to watch.” She pursed her lips as she stared at Zinnia. “You cover up a lot. How do you feel about showing skin?”
“Indifferent, I guess. I get cold easily.”
“Get used to that feeling,” Amber muttered with a lethal side-eye. “You’re scheduled to debut in the fall. Winter premieres are brutal.”
Being at the estate felt like living in a plush, surreal bubble. Grace, Fiona, and her parents were Zinnia’s only real contact with the outside world. That’d be changing soon.
People whom she’d never know existed would know her name. Her face. Her husband. Thinking about her future felt like trying to catch clouds with her bare hands.
Once in the parking garage, instead of heading for the mall’s entrance, they were escorted by two security guards to the utility hallway. It was one long off-white corridor with outlined doors and signs indicating which stores they passed.
“We don’t need to be seen,” Lulie commented as they marched forward.
“NDAs are too flimsy these days. One whiff of potential clout, and lawsuit threats are basically meaningless. We’re better off hiding you in plain sight instead of having a designer fitting at the house. We’re just two besties going shopping.”
“Sure.” There was no way that shopping was all production had planned for her. A secret prank was likely on the day’s docket. But what kind?
It didn’t take long to reach their destination—a store she’d never heard of called Etched.
All the sales associates were called personal attendants, offering them champagne and fruit the second they walked through the employees’ entrance.
Light fixtures hung sparsely from the ceiling like falling stars and reflected on the polished champagne-colored ground.
There was an ethereally calm feeling in the air—probably psychologically proven to make people spend more money.
For not wanting to be seen, choosing a store that had both glass doors and front displays seemed like an odd choice. Using a sign that read Closed for a VIP Guest definitely didn’t help any. Neither did the two security guards who were now outside and guarding the entrance.
Passersby noticed the cameras long before spotting Lulie, if they even did.
She moved so fast she might as well have been teleporting around the store, knowing exactly what she wanted and requesting more.
Amber was slightly hidden from view, sitting on one of the love seats and ever dedicated to whatever business she did on her tablet.
“Zinnia! Get over here!” Lulie shouted from the jeans section.
She’d been posted up near the registers, eating a giant chocolate-dipped strawberry and trying to find potential hiding spots and a secondary emergency exit. “You summoned me, oh great one?”
“What?”
“It’s a joke.”
“Then why aren’t I laughing?”
Zinnia, however, did at that. “I’ll try harder next time.”
“See that you do.” Lulie’s snappy frown faded into a conspiratorial grin.
That was probably the closest thing she’d ever get to an apology.
“I’ve picked out everything I had my eye on, and I want your opinion about a few things I’m on the fence about. I wanted to get you some jewelry too, but Alfie said no. Why doesn’t he want you to have any?”
“I don’t know. That’s kind of weird considering he gave me this for our anniversary.” She held the necklace by the pendant.
Lulie inspected it, raising an eyebrow. She turned back to the rack, flipping through the pants with more force than necessary. “Hold this.”
Zinnia fumbled with the shoved denim dress. “Uh, this seems a little…small.”
“Tight. Alfie stares at your ass almost as much as your face. It’s disgusting.” She pulled out another dress but handed it to Zinnia this time. “This one too. He’ll love them on you.”
Was that a weird thing for a sister to say? Picking out clothes that Jordan would like was…fine, but those comments seemed unnecessary.
Trying clothes on felt just as kindly hostile.
Lulie was firm and visibly irritated as she directed Zinnia to spin around, raise her arms, sit down, and strut in front of the trifold mirror.
But it was also kind of fun.
Before Zinnia knew it, she was giggling and dancing her way through the try-on extravaganza with Lulie’s impassioned directions:
“Beautiful, ugh,” she grunted and snapped her fingers. “Next!”
“Gorgeous. My god, you have legs.”
“You’d be too powerful in this. Put it in the maybe pile.”
“The cut is strange, but the color is stunning. Bring me everything you have in her size in this exact shade of yellow, now!”
While wearing a sparkling suit-dress that made Zinnia feel a little like a fancy penguin (she loved it), Lulie said, “Mom, I can’t decide. What do you think?”
Amber, who hadn’t said anything in the past three hours, spared Zinnia the briefest of glances before resuming typing on her tablet. “Too formal. I told you I want simple. The clothes need to complement her face. That erases it.”