Chapter Fifteen
I wake up early the next morning with renewed focus and determination. I need to keep those donations rolling in, which means I need to stay on this stupid show. And in order to do that I have to do something I loathe: ask for help.
I sneak down the long mansion hallway to Madison’s room and knock quietly. She answers the door looking as happy and perky as ever. “Grace! Good morning!”
“Hey, hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all, I’ve been up for hours. You know when you wake up and just need to ground yourself?”
Nope. “Sure?”
“I just did 108 sun salutations and some tantric meditation, and now I feel ready to conquer the day,” she says breezily, as if it were the equivalent of having a cup of coffee.
“Oh. Cool. So, I was wondering if you could help me with something?” It even feels foreign coming out of my mouth.
“Of course! What is it?”
I take a deep breath, hating myself for what I’m about to ask . . . “Um, do you know how to do that beachy hair wave thing? I don’t usually—”
“Oh my gosh, you want me to do your hair and makeup?!” she says, practically jumping with joy.
“If you don’t mind. I’ve decided that I should actually try to stay on the show, and well, I like how your makeup looks so natural.”
Madison grabs my arm and yanks me into her room. “This is going to be so much fun! What are you wearing today?”
I laugh at her enthusiasm and shrug. “Clothing, of some sort,” I mutter as I look around her room.
It has an identical layout to mine—same fancy king bed and large walk-in closet, but hers is decorated with more blues and whites instead of the maroons and golds in mine.
I can’t help but think it suits her better.
“I have the perfect dress!” she says, as she rushes to the closet where she has hung up every article of clothing she brought.
I wince, thinking of all the wrinkled outfits that are still in my suitcase.
“I know you usually dress pretty simply, but you also have great legs, so I think this is a happy medium,” she says, holding up a short aqua-colored dress. “Try it on!”
I take it from her and shrug because I know that, even if it looks terrible, she’ll put a positive spin on it.
I go into the bathroom, and as I’m slipping on the dress I hear, “I know it’s form fitting, but you’ve got a great body!
” I laugh as Madison continues yelling from the bedroom.
“Just pretend you’re doing yoga or going swimming or something!
” When I walk out, she immediately covers her mouth and squeals. “You are so gorgeous!”
We have to figure out how to send this girl into war zones. Her optimism and kindness are scary contagious. Hell, I feel like I get a better-person contact high off of her whenever she smiles.
Madison moves a chair over to the window because apparently that’s where the good light is and tells me to sit.
Then I make the mistake of telling her the good news about our crowdfunding campaign while she’s mid–makeup application.
She shrieks, jumping up and down, and almost takes my eye out with the eyeliner pencil.
“Three thousand dollars already? Grace, that’s amazing! You’re going to save those frogs!”
I smile at her. As hard as yesterday was, it’s nice knowing I have someone in my corner.
Madison does my hair while she gushes about her date with TC and I find myself genuinely happy to hear how well they got along.
Unlike me and the cowboy, they have a ton in common.
“He even volunteers with kids, teaching them music!” she says with cartoon hearts in her eyes.
“It’s like if Gandhi started dating Mother Teresa,” I tease, but they really would be the sweetest couple.
I smile to myself as I picture Cassie saying, “They’ll make the cutest babies.
” She says this whenever she sees a cute couple, insisting that, because she studied genetics in undergrad, she’s qualified to make that hypothesis.
As Madison starts twirling my hair around some wand-looking device, she asks about my one-on-one date. She cringes sympathetically when I tell her all about my dinner with Bill and the irritating interaction with Andrew.
“If Andrew didn’t want me talking trash about Poppy Lite, then maybe he should’ve told me that ahead of time.”
Madison nods. “That’s frustrating. Especially because he’s so handsome.”
“Exactly,” I say absentmindedly before realizing I walked into a trap. I shake my head, seeing her grin. “He’s not that handsome,” I say, flustered. “It’s hard to see past his obnoxiousness to even notice what he looks like,” I lie.
Madison is tactful enough to let the subject drop. “Well, I’m sorry your date was a bust.” She pats my hand and looks at me with a burning sincerity. “But don’t worry, Grace. There’s a perfect someone out there for you. He may not be on this show, but you’re going to find him!”
And maybe it’s only because of her fierce positivity and bubbly conviction, but for the first time ever I kind of want to believe it.
Twenty-five minutes and endless compliments from Madison later, I’m dressed and somehow look almost as tan and beachy as she is. Turns out, bronzer is my friend. We walk out of Madison’s room and meet Blue in the hall. When he sees me, his eyes light up. “Okaaaay now. Way better than the muumuu.”
“Madison is a miracle worker,” I say, feeling self-conscious. I tug the dress down as we walk toward the staircase.
Then I notice Andrew talking to Kristina in the foyer below us.
He’s wearing another expensive-looking suit.
Today’s, a charcoal gray, fits him perfectly, though I curse it for hiding his forearms. When I finally wrestle my concentration away from the suit, I realize that Andrew and Kristina are in a heated exchange.
I overhear Andrew say, “Seriously. You need to tone down the challenge. It’s degrading.”
“Did you say ratings?” she responds.
“Don’t make me get the studio involved,” he counters, and Kristina rolls her eyes.
“Ahh, he’s fighting the good fight,” Blue comments. Apparently I’m not the only one eavesdropping.
“Fine. We’ll cut the wet T-shirt contest, but I’m replacing it with something else,” Kristina says and walks off in a huff.
“What’s that all about?” I whisper to Blue from our spot up above.
“Andrew’s constantly trying to make the show less trashy, but the producers always push back,” he says with a shrug.
“Because the studio wants him to?” Madison asks.
“I think it’s more that he’s a decent dude,” Blue answers.
Just then Andrew notices us at the top of the stairs, and as if there’s no one else in the room, his gaze automatically finds mine. I feel an aftershock of the electricity that ran through me when we shook hands last night.
And then he breaks eye contact and lets his eyes dip to take in my whole body.
It’s like he wants me to know he’s looking.
I start to feel warm all over as he takes his time.
If this is some sort of power play, he’s failing, because the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like the powerful one.
I feel a strange flutter of satisfaction in the fact that Andrew can’t seem to tear his eyes away from me.
“I knew this dress would work,” Madison whispers as we start down the stairs.
“Stand up tall,” Blue adds, right before Madison says, “Swish your hips.” It’s like they’re in on some sort of secret plot.
All of Madison’s kind words must’ve sunk in, because I strut down the stairs, boldly holding Andrew’s gaze. Except by the time I get to the bottom, Blue and Madison are suddenly nowhere to be seen and I’m alone with him.
“Where the hell did they go?” I ask him, looking around.
“They left human-sized holes in the wall when they went that way.” He points toward the pool. I shake my head at my new friends.
“They’re probably afraid you’ll make them drink bleach because it’s a sponsor.”
He laughs before he can stop himself. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m still annoyed with you.”
“Not as annoyed as I am with you,” I say sweetly.
“I got you out of your date, didn’t I?”
“And all it took were threats and intimidation.”
He gives me an amused smile, and it takes my breath away. I haven’t seen him smile since before he knew who I was. I had forgotten how disarming it is. He tilts his head, considering. “I would try calling a truce, but I don’t think it’ll last long.”
“I’m sure I’ll do something that will require a stern talking-to.”
His eyes seem to darken at this. As if he’d love nothing more than giving me a stern talking-to. I cross my legs. “Definitely,” he agrees. “The day has only just begun. I’m sure you have plenty of mayhem up your sleeves,” he says with a smirk that isn’t quite as irritating as it was yesterday.
Just then I hear someone clear her throat, and I’m startled to see that Kristina has come back into the foyer and she’s scowling at us. “They’re waiting for you by the pool, Grace.” She hands me a pair of fake glasses. “Don’t forget your signature look. They’re trending online.”
“Oh goodie,” I say as I take the glasses. Matt would have a field day if he knew he was right about the glasses.
Andrew gives me a parting head nod. “Goodbye, Ms. Lambert. Please try to stay out of trouble.”
“Well, of course, Mr. Benson. I signed all that paperwork, didn’t I?”
It delights me when both Andrew and Kristina roll their eyes at this. I’ve aggravated two birds with one stone. I smile to myself as I put on my signature look and hustle outside.
I make a quick pit stop in the outdoor kitchen to grab a much-needed coffee, still thinking about Andrew. I’m not ready to unpack that moment on the stairs, but the rest of our interaction felt different. Maybe we can call a truce.