by Piper Rayne
“I’ll take that as a no.”
My phone dings and I pull it out as we wait to be escorted into the recording area.
Teegan: So, what was the surfer dude like, brah? In all seriousness though, you need to call me.
Me: I’ll call you once I’m done here.
I click my screen off, returning my phone to my bag. They chose only a few magazines to report on this episode, so I need to do my best job here today, so the magazine continues to get invites.
A woman comes over, and she’s got a headset on and a clipboard in her arms.
“Here we go. Come on, I’ll show you the ropes,” Ian says, standing and waiting for me.
We follow the woman and she tells us no phones or cameras are allowed. We’re on the honor system but if the show winners get leaked, I know our magazine will be blacklisted from the studio.
She sits us in a room with water and refreshments and a double-sided mirror on one side.
“The guests sometimes get nervous when they see us,” Ian whispers in my ear.
“Afraid of me?” I raise both eyebrows and Ian laughs.
“You two!” The woman points to us like we’re in freshman algebra class. “Pay attention.”
“So sorry,” I say, nodding and sit straighter in my incredibly uncomfortable chair.
Ian writes down on a piece of paper that I’m a suck up and I crack a laugh, which spurs another evil look from the woman who probably introduced herself, but I missed it.
I put my hands up, so she knows I got it and she doesn’t need to call me out in class.
I watch as people hurry around to set the show up. I’ve been on a few sets in my time reporting for What’s Up LA, but this is my first time on a primetime show set. Each baker is being told where everything is and props are being brought in, as well as the table I assume the judges will sit at since it’s overlooking all the baking stations. Someone in the prop crew sets three chairs behind the table that look a million times more comfortable than mine.
“The bathrooms are just outside the door; please be quiet should you need to use the facilities. And do not knock on this mirror. Friendly Fred behind you all has eyes everywhere.” She points and I turn around to find a huge guy with “SECURITY” printed on his black T-shirt.
I cringe at Ian and he smiles back at me.
“Way too much coffee this morning,” I say to Ian and slip out of the room in a hurry to make sure I don’t miss anything.
I go to the bathroom, fix my hair, and reapply some lipstick. As I open the door to the hallway, I hear someone yell, “Where is Calder?”
So funny that’s the second time I’ve heard that name today.
I step out to cross the hallway when a body shoves right into me from the side. “Excuse me,” they say, two hands finding my hips to steady me.
“I’m not that breakable,” I say and look up into crystal blue eyes. Shit. “Trent?”
He smirks, then glances down at my press sign. His lips tip down instead of up.
“There you are. They’re pissed you’re late.” A woman my age comes over and drags him away by his arm. His eyes stay on mine until I’m the one who turns my gaze away.
Is he here to bake? A surfer who bakes? There’s more to his story for sure.
4
Sophie
Calder? Did he lie to me about his name too?
Hey, I’m cool with the one-night stand thing, but I’m not some stalker you have to lie to.
I sit down next to Ian and I’m now thankful I’m not sitting up front. “You look like you saw a ghost,” Ian says.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve just never done this before. Nervous.”
He shakes his head and puts his hand over mine. “It’s easy. We sit here, watch the show and then we leave, recap it with some cliff hanger to entice people to watch the show.”
I nod. I could care less about my job at the moment. Now I’m wondering what Trent/Calder’s story is. If only I would’ve asked him a few questions when I had him all to myself last night.
The woman from before pokes her head into the room. “Show is starting. Hold any bathroom breaks until we break.”
The doors closes, and Friendly Fred moves his chair to the front corner and takes a seat with his arms crossed. Seems totally unfair he doesn’t get to watch the show to make the time pass.
The host comes on set and introduces himself, so I jot it down his name for my article. Justin Briebman. He’s a B list actor who now makes his living hosting these baking challenges.
He gives the entire spiel about how this episode is the Gingerbread Showdown. The contestants will make various items utilizing gingerbread in their finished works and each section of the show will be something different. Then he introduces the bakers. Margie, a housewife from Kansas. Tim, a handyman-turned-baker from Florida and lastly Kimmy, a baker who owns a bakery in Alabama.
Each have an assistant, but I don’t see Trent in any of the groups.
I sulk down in my chair. My mind trying to figure out where the hell he might be. Maybe he works here, but that’s not the vibe I got.
Then Justin smiles bright at the cameras and his voice goes up an octave, excitement clear in his tone. “And now for our judges,” he says. “Heidi Gallagher! Known for her own show, Bake Me, where she teaches home cooks how to bake gourmet breads and sweets.” Fake applause rings out in our booth. Justin pauses and Heidi waves her hands taking her spot at the judge’s table. “Second we have Sara Quinton who’s known for her own baking show on this network. She’s sure to be the judge who’s hardest to impress in the tasting round.” Fake applause sounds and a cute redhead runs out, her perfect hair and make-up shining through the small television we have in the room. She sits next to Heidi and they smile at one another. Justin pauses again. “And lastly, we have Trent Calder, but you can call him Calder like the rest of us. He’s a Pro Surfer in the World’s Surf League! Although he doesn’t bake, he is addicted to sugar and tastes plenty of honeypots to know the difference.” Everyone on set roars in laughter. The camera flashes to Trent aka Calder walking out.
Trent’s arm raises in a hello and showcases his million-dollar smile. He kisses each lady on the cheek before sitting in his chair. I slept with a pro surfer? What the hell?
“And we’ll be right back,” Justin says.
“You okay?” Ian whispers.
“No.”
He looks at me to explain but Friendly Fred shushes us. I roll my eyes. I’m so consumed by my thoughts that I don’t even notice what’s going on around me until Ian elbows me in the ribs.
“Ouch,” I shoot him the evil eye.
“Your phone,” he says.
“What about it?” I ask.
He eyes my bag. “It’s ringing.”
“Oh.” I look up and Friendly Fred is already on his way over to me, but I dig through my oversized bag and click the sound button off, not even bothering to see who it is. “I’m sorry. I silenced it.”
Friendly Fred’s pudgy finger raises in the air. “That’s one.”
I nod in understanding.
The woman peeks her head in the room. “We’re going to introduce the segment and then you have an hour break while the bakers bake.” The door shuts.
“I didn’t even think about that,” I say to Ian.
He nods. “That’s why it’s all day thing. We come and go. Want to grab some coffee?”
“Maybe, I have to return my friend’s phone call first.”
“No big deal. I’m meeting Miguel so you’re not leaving me stranded.” He laughs.
Right now, I just want to message Teegan. Scratch that. I want to google Trent Calder and get as much information on him as I can.
Justin comes back in front of the cameras and I swear Trent and I make eye contact through the mirror like he knows that’s where I am.
A young girl in front of me elbows the woman next to her. “Calder just looked at me,” she whispers.
There goes the theory.
Dream on Sophie. The man is probably just as nauseated as you are that he ran into you this morning.
They tell the bakers they have to make an array of ornaments that speak to a Christmas song. At least three different ones that contain gingerbread variation in it. The three bakers and their helpers go off running toward the metal racks holding all the ingredients. The woman pops her head back in and tells us that we can stick around but if we don’t to be back in an hour.
“I’ll see you when we get back.” I squeeze Ian’s upper arm and he smiles like he knew I wasn’t coming.
I grab my bag and shoot into the bathroom, but before I can get to a stall, I hear someone throwing up. All I really wanted was to compose myself, call Teegan, maybe hide out in here until it’s time to go back in the room.
But I recognize the woman on her knees as Sara the judge. I get a paper towel, wet it for her and hand it over. She sits up. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay? Do you want me to call someone?”
She shakes her head. “It’s this pregnancy. I’m constantly sick.” She looks at her watch. “Not sure how I’m going to get through this.”
I hand her another paper towel and she stands up, looking at herself in the mirror. “So far pregnancy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Thank you so much.” She washes her hands and leaves the room.
I pull out my phone. Whoever called is a number I don’t have stored. They left a message though. Whatever. I’ll listen later. It’s probably a telemarketer
I dial up Teegan.
“Finally. Soph! When I was flagging you down last night, that was the clue to come talk to me.”
“Why?” I ask. “I was leaving.”
“Yes, with a pro surfer. They didn’t tell me until after. Holy shit, Soph!”
“Yeah well I was slow on the uptake. Hold on my phone is going off.” It vibrates in my hand, so I pull it away from my ear seeing the same unknown number from earlier calling once again. I disregard and bring my phone to my ear. “Damn telemarketers. I swear I put my cell on the do not call list.”
She laughs. “I know. I mean that happens all the time to us. Anyway. I want details.” Then there’s some kind of a ruckus behind her. “Oh, stop it, Leo. I don’t want a surfer boy. I have one.” She gets back on lowering her voice. “So? Spill.”
“I just found out that he’s a pro surfer and you’ll never believe how I found out.”
My phone vibrates again.
“Oh my God, I’m going to tell this telemarketer off. Hang on.” I pull my phone out away from me and click over to the other line. “Look, I don’t need anything from you. Please lose this number and stop the repeated calls. It’s called harassment.” I click off and return to Teegan.
“I’m back. I think I was oddly polite there.”
“I doubt that.” Teegan snickers.
“Anyway, where was I?”
“You were saying that you just found out who he is. I’d say that’s a good sign because it’s after eleven in the morning which means he spent the night…”
My phone vibrates again but only once, indicating a text message.
I growl. “Hold up, Tee.”
I pull my phone away from my ear to read the text.
Unknown number: Come out of the bathroom.
I have Ian’s number in my phone so this would be…
I bring my phone back up to my ear. “Tee, I gotta call you back.” She begins to talk but I hang up.
I take a deep breath and let it out. This means he took my number before he left this morning. Teegan’s right. I really need to password protect my phone. But it’s so annoying punching it in every time I pick it up to do something.
I open the door a bit to peak outside. Just as I thought, he’s standing with his hands in his pockets. He nods toward the phone in my hand. “Lucky for me you don’t take your personal privacy seriously.”
So, my one-night stand I thought lived in a hut on the beach is actually a pro surfer who took my number out of my phone so he could contact me later?
Warmth spreads through my chest until the same girl from earlier comes back over to his side, her head buried in her phone. “I need coffee like now.”
She looks up and she doesn’t seem too pleased to see me. Even Trent’s hand pulls on the back of his neck like we’re about to go over another speed bump. Who is this woman to him?
5
Sophie
“Give me a minute, Jen,” Trent says, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I’m heading around the corner. The craft service coffee sucks. Want anything?” she asks, already walking past him.
“No thanks.” His eyes lock on mine. “Do you want a coffee, Sophie?”
The woman turns around. She’s blonde just like Trent except her hair is up in a ponytail she’s somehow managed to make look stylish and not lazy. A few curly tendrils hang down around her face. I have to be misunderstanding their relationship. Surely, he’s not asking his girlfriend to buy his one night stand a coffee.
“I’m good. Thank you.”
Jen nods and disappears down the hall.
“Want to join me for some crappy coffee?” He nods toward craft services.
“I think I’m only supposed to have the crappy coffee in the press room.” I point to the room I just vacated.
“Who cares.” He turns and waits for me to join him at his side before we both walk toward the table. Heidi is chatting it up with Justin in the corner and they both eye us as we approach. Justin’s eyes zeroing on my press necklace.
Trent pours a coffee and places it down. “Sugar or cream?”
“No, I’m a black kind of girl.”
He nods and hands me my coffee, keeping his black as well. His gaze shifts to Justin and Heidi and then his hand presses to my back, walking us over to the corner. Once we’re far enough away, he stands in front of me, so I’m blocked from anyone else’s view. Is this where he says last night was a mistake?
“Sorry for running out this morning. I had to be here early, and Jen was ringing up my phone like a crazy person.” He pulls on the back of his neck again and peeks up with flushed cheeks. “I have a reputation I’m trying to improve.”
“Reputation?” My forehead creases.
He chuckles. “You really have no idea who I am, huh? Last night wasn’t an act?”
“Act?” I feel the crease form between my eyes.
He shrugs. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but most women who I approach know who I am. I didn’t know if you were trying to be one of those women who act like they don’t know me and then a picture of me sleeping in their bed gets pinned to the top of their social media page. It’s why I didn’t program my name into your phone. I was going to wait a week to call you. See if anything showed up.”
My shoulders sink imagining what it would be like to deal with that.
I take my pointer finger and cross my heart. “I promise I didn’t know until you were introduced on the show.”
A smile forms on his face and spurs butterflies to take flight in my belly. “I like that you didn’t know and that it wasn’t an act. To these people I might be Calder but I’m really just Trent, surfer bum.”
I shake my head that I ever thought that of him, although even now he’s got the chill-surfer vibe going on.
“I think we have a two hour break after this one. Want to go to lunch?”
“Sure.”
“Great.” He steps forward, his fingers playing with mine at my side, hidden from everyone. “I’ll have Jen make us reservations.”
“Okay.”
“Excuse me,” the woman from earlier interrupts us. “Mr. Calder, they need you back in makeup.”
“Okay, thanks Olive.”
Olive, that’s her name!
He nods, his fingers tighten on mine for a second. “See you later, Sophie.” He leaves me, and somehow Jen reappears to join him at his side. He tells her something and she glances over her shoulder at me and then back to him.
A ha
nd waves in my face. “You’re from What’s Up LA?” Olive asks.
I stare down at my lanyard like I don’t remember, still surprised by this turn of events. “Yes.”
“Henry warned me to keep tabs on you.”
I inwardly roll my eyes. Henry can suck it. Her manicured nail moves in a circle over the craft services table. “This is for the talent. The press has their own table inside there.” She points in the direction of the room I’ve been sequestered to.
“Yes. I know. But—”
“There’s no but and our guest judges don’t appreciate being flirted with either. So if you ever want to be asked back, I suggest you go back into that press box and do the job you were hired to do, which doesn’t include flirting with Trent Calder.”
“I think you have the wrong idea. Let me explain.”
She crosses her arms and waits but the explanation stays at the tip of my tongue. Am I really going to tell her that I had a one-night stand with Trent last night and finding him here was an unexpected surprise? I’m positive she wouldn’t share my enthusiasm.
I wave her off. “Never mind, I’ll just go back and wait for the show to start again.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
I walk back over, and I can feel her watching me the entire time until I open the door and enter the press room. She’s like a drill Sargent. A few of the other press people look at me and I realize they saw me having coffee. The girl who thought Trent was staring at her gives me a death glare that makes me feel like I’m back in high school.
I situate myself in my seat, pulling out my notebook and pen, brainstorming how I can give this article a unique twist. I’m sure my readers don’t want to hear how I ran into my one-night stand I’m hoping might turn into a two-night stand.
The thought makes me pause and think about what I really want from Trent Calder other than a repeat in bed. I don’t do relationships and I imagine either does he. Why would anyone like him restrict themselves to one person? Plus he must travel a lot to compete. I grab my phone and do a quick little google search. Surprisingly, all I see right away is pictures of him surfing or with his buddies. There’s not one woman except for Jen in any of the pictures.
