Chapter 12 Garrick
Garrick
My costume is trying to kill me. I pull at the neck of my undershirt as it bunches in my leathers.
While the fabric is usually soft, today it’s like wearing a sack of hay.
We’re in a private room at the Royal Fare.
It’s a Saturday, so we couldn’t close off the entire space.
They put up soundproofing barriers between us and the downstairs, but I can still hear the chatter of the kids and parents eating their Christmas feast.
‘Why are you fidgeting?’ Ripley asks from beside me. She’s not supposed to be in the shot, but we haven’t started filming yet. ‘Stop it. You need to look like you’re happy to be here.’
‘I am,’ I say unconvincingly. Did someone turn up the heat? I’m sweating like it’s the middle of July.
‘Seriously –’ she drops her voice so only I can hear – ‘I thought you couldn’t wait for this?’
I couldn’t. Right? That’s what I’ve been telling myself and everyone else since I signed up. But freaking A, now that these girls are about to walk through the door I feel like someone put itching powder in my costume.
I shoot a glare at my brothers standing by the door.
But they don’t appear to be holding in a laugh, so I’m guessing they didn’t do that.
Not that they would. This is too big of a deal to screw up.
Great, so I guess it’s all me. Being in the knight’s skin has always made me feel like a million bucks.
But that was in the context of the Carpathia story.
What if under the judging eye of a camera lens it’s not as dashing and heroic as I pictured?
Rolling my shoulders, I crack a sly grin to cover for these invasive thoughts. ‘Don’t worry, Juliet.’ I emphasize her name, and her scowl loosens my tension. ‘I got this.’
‘For both our sakes, I really do hope so.’ With that nugget of encouragement, Ripley heads behind the camera, where she prefers to be.
I ignore the coldness I’m left with now I’m alone.
It was nice having her there. Ripley is perfect company because she doesn’t count.
I mean, she counts as a person – but she’s a safe zone.
She’s not a girl vying for my attention, and sure I like to flirt, but that’s just me.
Nothing is going to happen between us, so I can relax around her without worrying about my every action being caught for the show.
This ‘dinner’ is at noon, but they need to get it in early so I can have a one-on-one date tonight. I try to focus on that. I’ll get to share the company of some lovely girl and do what I do best: charm.
Time to put on a show, Garrick.
I’m told there will be a voice-over when the show airs, explaining who the girls are as they walk in.
Shoulders back, chin high, I roll out my hero smile and welcome each girl individually.
I did manage a quick peek yesterday before Ripley stopped me, but not enough to recall much.
I had no doubts these girls would be pretty, and I’m correct.
They all come dressed in their princess best – gowns glitter and shine under the hot studio lights.
‘Ellie, I love the matching gold eyeshadow to your dress,’ I comment when I meet the first girl. ‘Top marks for coordination.’
‘A guy who notices that already gets an A in my book.’ She smiles, batting her thick lashes.
This would be the first time I got an A in anything, but I’ll save that info for the second date.
I meet several more girls and try my best to remember their names.
But just as I think I’m going to mess up royally, Ripley holds up a giant whiteboard with the girl’s name.
I need to thank her later. Maybe by buying her a jumbo pack of markers – it seems like the type of thing she’d like based on the color-coded notes I’ve noticed.
The last girl I greet is named Sophia, just like the one before, and I’m glad there is one less name I’ll have to remember.
When I turn around, all the girls are staring at me, and I realize I’m the entertainment they came for.
I might be a twin, but I’ve always been a one-act show – time to make good use of that skill.
‘So, ladies, who’s ready to eat?’ I clap, attempting to make eye contact with each of them. I imagine they’re the cheering crowd at Knight School, and it comes easier. It’s all pretend – just the way I like it.
The food is good as always, but I barely taste any of it. It’s buffet style, so I can talk to the girls while we eat.
‘Wait …’ I sit backwards on a chair at a table with three girls. ‘You’re going to be a FBI profiler? Like on TV shows?’ I ask Maya.
She tucks a tight curl behind her ear. She’s wearing a light-blue dress, simple in form, but the showstopper is the shimmery glitter all over her skin and nails.
It makes her look like a moonbeam. She’d fit right in at the Starlight Ball the park holds every summer.
‘Well, not exactly like that, but yeah.’
‘That’s freaking awesome. You also must have a stomach of steel and be incredibly smart.’
‘I can handle myself on a roller coaster, if that’s what you want to know.’ Her soft laugh is demure – just like the princess I’m sure Beeloved would want me to choose.
‘I played a dead body in an episode of Law and Order once,’ Desiree chimes in, casually laying a spray-tanned arm over the back of my chair. Her fire-engine red dress is all the indication I need that she’s going to be a scene stealer.
I crack a smile. ‘You’re far too pretty to play a dead body.’ The smooth charm comes easy. The girls at the table swoon accordingly, but out of the corner of my vision I spot Ripley rolling her eyes.
I say my goodbyes and walk past Ripley on my way to the next group. ‘Juliet, are you having a laugh at my expense?’
She glances over my shoulder to her mom across the room. ‘You aren’t supposed to be talking to me.’
‘But you’re so fun to talk to – that effortless way you laugh and fawn at my every word.’
Her brows pinch together. ‘I definitely don’t do that,’ she whispers.
‘No, but you’re going to.’ I’ve leaned into her without realizing it.
‘Go,’ she hisses before shoving me toward my next table.
I didn’t think I’d be intimidated. I don’t mean to sound cocky, I just don’t get nervous at this kind of thing.
But then again, I’ve never been the center of attention for ten girls simultaneously.
And they’re all so bright and pretty. I put on an extra layer of charm to compensate for my shakiness.
When I feel myself slipping, I look at Ripley.
Her unimpressed face should annoy me, but it weirdly makes me calmer.
She feels like the only real thing in the room.
‘Now, I don’t want to scare you, but this is a very important question.’ I slide into the empty seat at the last table. Riya, Sophia and Zoya are gathered in, like I’m the best present at the party. ‘You’re theming your Christmas tree decor – what do you call it?’
Riya wears a look I’m all too familiar with on my own face – mischief. ‘You first.’
I match her stare. ‘Riya, obviously I only have one option: The Knight Before Christmas. Complete with full armor and a sword.’ The girls laugh, leaning in toward me. Riya even adds a hair flip for good measure, so I offer her a wink.
‘Mine is Christmas in July,’ Sophia says, twisting her napkin into the shape of a rose. ‘Filled with flowers and sunshine, because I love summer.’
‘We have that in common.’ I place my hand over hers. ‘Also, you have to show me how to make this, OK?’ She nods eagerly.
Zoya taps her chin, eyes roaming the room before she says. ‘Menagerie. It’s covered head to toe in those cute felt animals.’
‘Remind me to show you the stables. I think the horses will love you.’ OK, I’m getting the hang of this. My shoulders relax and my costume finally feels like home again. ‘All right, Riya, did you buy yourself enough time?’
She sticks out her tongue. ‘Around the World in Twelve Days. So, instead of the traditional stuff, each day represents a different country and its culture.’
‘You and my brother will get along nicely.’
She raises an eyebrow. ‘I think I prefer this twin.’
I lean in conspiratorially. ‘Me too.’ I know it’s only night one, but someone has just pulled into the lead.
After dinner, we move on to the gingerbread competition.
‘I don’t know how I’m going to pick.’ I whistle as they roll out the gingerbread houses. ‘You all did an amazing job.’ I’m not exaggerating. These houses look like they could be on display in a museum. These girls came to play, and I respect that. I love a little healthy competition.
Attempting a bit of mystery, I keep my face neutral as I walk along the table filled with sugary creations.
Some have chosen a colorful Hansel and Gretel aesthetic, while others have kept to a basic white, red and green combo.
The sweet scent of frosting and spicy ginger cookies wafts toward me as I do my third pass.
Ultimately, I choose a house that looks Victorian, with lots of intricate lace detail and latticework on the roof. It’s not my typical style, but the amount of work they put into the icing is out of this world.
‘So, who’s the lucky lady I get to go on a date with first?’ I scan the line of girls after I make my pick.
There’s a dramatic pause. The girls look at each other like they’re unsure who it is. I’m guessing this was pre-planned because, after a few minutes, Arianna steps forward.
I give a shy half-smile – and while I’m not looking at her, I swear Ripley is rolling her eyes right now. ‘I should have guessed the pastry queen would be the winner.’ I hold out my hand to her. ‘Shall we see what this date has in store?’
The first date was planned to give FTG its best exposure.
We walk the park, drinking hot chocolate and eating snickerdoodle cookies while getting to know each other.
They stop us at strategic places to work in the perfect shot of the rides and assembled holiday booths.
As we stop and start for the fifth time because of noise and lighting issues, I’m really hoping the editors are good because this feels very manufactured.
While the show hasn’t aired yet, we have been promoting it like crazy, and it seems a few guests here tonight are aware that’s what we are up to.
The Beeloved interns are working the crowd to keep them from intruding on the shots but without disturbing their theme park experience.
Dad was very clear that the show was not to mess with operations and guests’ experiences.
‘You good?’ I ask Arianna when Pierre jumps in to fix her make-up between shots.
‘It’s all a little weird, right?’ She glances over at the camera. ‘I’ve never done this kind of thing before.’
‘Don’t worry, you’re doing great.’ I hand her a candy cane from my pocket. I nabbed a few extra from my Santa meet-and-greet.
‘So are you.’ She lingers a little as our hands touch when she takes the sweet treat.
I’m not surprised that the date goes well.
I’m fantastic at making conversation. Some people say I never shut up.
We talk about our love of food and how we learned to cook when we were young – her from her Greek grandmother and me from my mom.
I skate around talking about Mom too much.
I don’t know how much these girls know about FTG and my family.
I’m sure they had some sort of briefing.
But I don’t feel like bringing up my mom’s death on a first date.
And I really don’t want to talk about it on camera.
I’m used to an audience, so it doesn’t bother me to have the cameras and the crew behind the scenes. But every once in a while I catch Ripley’s gaze, and I stumble. My charm seems to be working on Arianna, but I wonder what would happen if it was Ripley sitting in her spot.
I imagine there would be many more puzzling looks, and I’d have to fight for that smile. Arianna gives me a smile about every three seconds. Don’t get me wrong, I’m eating it up. But, I don’t know, it feels like it would be more rewarding if I had to work for it.
Which I know is shocking to hear from my mouth because working for it is about the last thing I ever want to do. Easy going and unbothered is my preferred speed. So, why do I keep looking at Ripley when Arianna is sitting in front of me?