by JA Low
“No, not at all.” Honestly, we are giving Oscar-worthy performances right here.
“Thanks.” I turn to Kevin. “Sebastien’s giving me a lift. Thanks so much for today. I can’t wait for us to start working together again.” I reach in and give him a big hug. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“You lucky thing, getting a ride home with Sebastien,” he whispers in my ear. “It wouldn’t be the only thing I’d ride.” He bursts out laughing at his own joke, and I give him a grin then hastily make our exit.
Once we’re in the car, I can finally relax.
“Okay, that was the weirdest day ever,” Sebastien starts. “I’m not sure about Kevin.” I burst out laughing, the stress of the day finally getting the better of me. “Are you okay?” Sebastien frowns.
“That was… interesting.”
“You could say that,” Sebastien chimes.
“I have so much nervous energy running all over my body, I feel like I might have a heart attack at any moment,” I tell him. “Before you came in, I said something about us coming up here to check out the place before today, and I thought Kevin had caught us out. I thought we were done. Thankfully, Kevin is so mesmerized by you that he forgets about whatever it is he’s talking about. That is your superpower. Use it wisely,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “I’ve missed you, Quinn.”
“It was one night,” I reply.
“I know, but my bed was lonely, and so was my dick.” He grins, and I bite my bottom lip. “Dammit, Quinn! Don’t bite your lip like that unless you want me to pull over into this paddock and fuck you in my car.”
Oh, yeah, that’s hot. I wonder if he would. No, you don’t know who from production is out and about. I’ll keep my lip biting under control until we arrive at my villa.
Thankfully, the car space is out in front of the villa.
Pulling my key out, Sebastien’s at my back pressing himself against me, and I can feel how hard he is.
“Hurry up, Quinn, before I fuck you against this door.”
Gee, someone’s testy.
Thankfully, my key eventually turns in the old lock, and the door swings open wide for us. Moments later, it’s being slammed behind me, and Sebastien is on me. We’re both frantic with need as we rip each other’s clothes off.
36
Sebastien
Last night with Quinn was fantastic and not because of the sex. It was good being able to catch up again without the million and one eyes around us that is production. My apartment feels empty now that she isn’t stomping around, and I was hesitant to go back home last night because of that fact.
Today we have the show’s promotional photo shoot for the network to splash around everywhere.
“Good morning, Sebastien,” Kevin greets me as I enter the studio space they have set up in one of the old buildings. There are sheets and wires everywhere. They have created a green screen backdrop, and Kevin explains they will be creating glossy background images behind us. I look around the set, and Quinn hasn’t arrived yet.
“This is Tanya, she will be looking after your hair and makeup today,” Kevin introduces me to an older, brunette woman. “The first look today is you in your chef whites,” Kevin tells me as Tanya asks me to sit in a chair and gets to work.
Once I’m all made up, I head on over to the set. Quinn’s already there doing some solo shots. I can see on the monitor the different backgrounds they are putting her against as they scream different poses for her to do. She’s dressed in what looks to be Farm Girl Barbie, with the American style red and white checkered shirt, which is opened way too low for my liking. They have her in the tiniest denim cut-offs with cowboy boots. It looks like she’s wearing a blonde wig too. They have transformed her back to the old Quinn Miller, the one who was with Chad.
This is not who she is now.
“Great. Sebastien, you’re here.” The photographer then points and tells me to stand in position near Quinn.
“Morning,” she greets me through gritted teeth.
“What the hell are you wearing?” I ask her as I take my position.
“What they told me to wear.” She shrugs and poses.
“It’s not you,” I tell her. “I mean it’s the old you, but not the new you.” Getting myself tongue-tied, my anger gets the better of me.
“I know. But it’s the character I’m playing,” she tells me.
“I don’t like it,” I grumble.
“Sebastien, stop scowling,” the photographer yells at me.
“It’s okay, really,” she tries to reassure me.
“Is this what you want?” Waving my hands around a little too overdramatically. “To always be compared to Chad’s version of who you are?”
She stills and turns to me, her jaw a little slack with surprise.
“What the hell is going on, you two?” The photographer yells.
I flip him off.
“Guys… is there a problem?” Kevin joins in our private conversation.
“Yeah, Kevin, there is.” Turning my glare to him, he takes a step back under its intensity. “I thought you said yesterday that you would do anything for Quinn to break out of the shadow of her former life with Chad?” I question him.
“Of course,” Kevin agrees.
“Then why the hell is she dressed like Farm Girl Barbie here.” I am pointing at Quinn, and Kevin turns his attention to Quinn who is wriggling nervously under our scrutiny.
“Guys, take five,” Kevin yells at the photographer who curses as he storms off the set. “I see what you’re saying, Sebastien,” Kevin finally agrees with me. “What do you suggest?”
“What do you mean?” I look between Quinn and Kevin.
“You have some strong ideas about this, I would like to hear them.” Kevin folds his arms across his chest and waits for my answer.
“I… um… well…” I take a moment to gather my thoughts. “I see her ditching the farm girl chic and being more relaxed.”
“And what do you think, Quinn?” Kevin asks.
“I have to agree with Sebastien,” she answers.
Kevin looks between Quinn and me again.
“Sweetheart, why did you not speak up?” Kevin asks.
“I don’t know… I’m so used to going with the flow and not wanting to rock the boat that I just did what you wanted.”
Kevin shakes his head. “No, that won’t do, Quinn. I need you to be honest with me. If you don’t like something, speak up. Okay?” Kevin tries to reassure her. “Now, Layla…” he calls for Quinn’s stylist who rushes in from the back area. “Wipe this red lipstick off. We are going for a more natural boho vibe instead of slutty farm girl. Okay?”
Layla nods, and Quinn follows after her.
“Thanks for looking after Quinn like that,” Kevin whispers. “I didn’t realize how much control Chad had over Quinn. She’s stepped back in front of the camera and fallen back into her old routine. It might take a little bit for her to break the habit and adjust, but I think she will, especially with you by her side.” He pats me on the shoulder.
“Places. Let’s take Sebastien’s solo images while Quinn’s getting changed,” Kevin yells out to the workers.
The shoot eventually ended up going well. Quinn dropped the fake smiles through gritted teeth and relaxed in front of the camera, even when they made me kiss her cheek for twenty minutes as they had us completing various poses.
“That’s a wrap, guys.” Kevin claps his hands, and everyone begins to unpack. “That was brilliant,” he enthusiastically tells us. “The network is going to love these shots. The chemistry between the two of you leaps off the screen.” He grins. “Sebastien, the contractors arrive tomorrow to start on all the preliminary building works.” Apparently, one day on a renovation show is one week in filming days. “Now, have you double-checked all of plans, and everything is signed off?”
Kevin double-checks one last time. I went through them all last night with my project manager, Lucien, who
I’ve known since school, and is the only person I would trust with this project. He agreed everything looked good. The network has their own project manager, but Lucien is boss on-site, and that’s for a reason. Trust means everything to me.
“Yep, good to go,” I reply.
“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you in France, then.” Kevin waves his hand dramatically in the air.
Tomorrow we’re off to France to film our champagne tasting. Once I’ve wiped off all this hideous makeup they applied, I run into Quinn who’s waiting outside for me.
“Thank you for today.” She walks with me to the car.
“That’s fine, I just…” Running my hand through my hair, I try and think of the words that explain how I feel. “I didn’t like it.” Simple and to the point.
“I didn’t either. So, thanks for noticing, and thank you for sticking up for me. I didn’t think being back on set would feel so weird. I just assumed the new and improved Quinn would be the one stepping onto this show, not reverting back to the old one.” She lets out a heavy sigh.
“Want me to help cheer you up?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.
“What do you have in mind?” She grins.
I take a look around to see if anyone’s watching, but there’s no one about. “I think you know exactly what I have in mind. It starts with your pussy and ends with you screaming my name,” I whisper into her ear.
She bites that bottom lip.
“Let’s go.” She grins.
37
Sebastien
I’m still not sure why we are in France, but Kevin assures me it’s great for filler. Now, I find myself sitting in a bright red Citroen DS 19 Cabriolet, a classic French car, driving along a graveled road toward a towering chateau in the distance. There’s a dude with a camera right in my face and a drone flying above us as I drive carefully. I pull up out the front of the chateau, which the network has hired for us to film, and open the car door.
“We need you to get out, walk through the front door, and out to the back where Quinn is waiting,” Kevin tells me.
I do as I’m told and walk out the back of the chateau, where Quinn is sitting by the pool, wearing an oversized hat sipping on a glass of champagne.
“You look hard at work.” She turns ever so dramatically, her fingers push her sunglasses down, so she can look at me over the rims, and she says, “I’m doing research, Sebastien.” Then she pushes her sunglasses into position on her nose, turns her head, and relaxes back on the chair.
“Cut. Perfect,” Kevin screams.
Both Quinn and I burst out laughing. I take the spare glass of champagne and take a sip needing something to get me through this.
After shooting many various location shots with images of us riding bikes through the vineyards, then us walking through them, we were taken on a tour of a winery, and we learned how they made champagne. Quinn and I tried one too many glasses, much to the annoyance of Kevin. The girl filming the behind-the-scenes content for the digital platforms loved it.
I am guessing we might regret that later.
Now, I’m dressed in a tuxedo, who knows why, for dinner with Quinn. Kevin’s production team has set up an intimate dinner underneath the stars in the gardens of the chateau. Fairy lights are draped from the gazebo. The table has been set for a romantic dinner. There’s a gorgeous floral arrangement in the center of the table consisting of red roses. Real subtle, Kevin. Candles are laid everywhere along a gravel path to the chateau.
The whole thing screams—I’m part of the Rose Ceremony on The Bachelor.
“Quinn, we’re ready to go. Sebastien stands at the end of the path, please.” I hear Kevin in my earpiece, so I do as I am told. There are a couple moments of silence, and then I hear a door creak open and heels click-clack across the terrace. Quinn appears around the corner, and I’m blown away.
“Oh, wow.” Realizing I’ve said that out loud and everyone can hear me talk through my mic, I take a deep breath. Quinn looks incredible, like a princess descending from her castle. She dressed in a black, off-the-shoulder evening dress with a dangerous high thigh split showing off her tanned, toned legs with each step she takes toward me.
Her blonde hair is pulled up into an elegant bun, her neck is dripping in diamonds as are her wrists and ears. She gives me a tentative smile, and just as she’s about to reach me, her heels dig into the gravel, and she twists her ankle and comes crashing down. I’m too far away to catch her in time, but I watch in slow motion as she goes down.
Everyone rushes toward her.
Quinn is doubled over in a fit of laughter.
“I’m so sorry, guys.” She giggles as tears stream down her face. “Heels and gravel really don’t mix.”
I put my arm around her and lift her out of the dirt.
Layla gets to work brushing the dust off her gown.
“Well, we got a decent amount of footage,” Kevin tells her. “Let’s get you fixed up and start filming your dinner.”
A little while later, Quinn is back looking as if her stumble never even happened. I hold out the seat for her, then take my own.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispers.
“That was a pretty epic fall.” I grin at her.
“Stop it!” She hisses, trying to keep her fits of laughter inside.
“Places everyone,” Kevin screams in our ears. “Dinner’s being served.”
A waiter dressed in a black and white suit comes out and pops a bottle of champagne dramatically for the camera, and the cork shoots off into the garden. He then pours us both a glass, then another waiter brings out a silver cloche and sets it down in front of us. Then each of the waiters pull the cover away from our meal, and a plate of snails are laid out before us.
“Please don’t tell me these are snails?” Quinn looks up at me.
“Escargot is a French delicacy,” I tell her.
Kevin has totally set this up for her to freak out over.
“It’s been cooked in butter, garlic, and herbs.” I take one out of its shell and pop it in my mouth while Quinn stares at me horrified. “Come on, you can do it. Try it. You might like it.”
She shakes her head a couple of times, then looks off-camera and sees everyone is waiting around for her to finish. I take another snail and place it on my fork and hold it out for her to take. Her blue doe eyes open wide, and I mentally see her working herself up to do it. She leans forward and takes the morsel off my fork. She tries to keep a straight face while not gagging as she eventually chews and swallows.
“How was it?” I ask.
“Not as bad as I thought.” She picks up her glass of champagne and begins to wash the bite down.
“I’m guessing everything tastes better with champagne,” I tell her. She nods her head in agreement.
“Perfect,” Kevin calls from the darkness. “All done for the night. Everyone, let’s pack up, then room service is available for dinner tonight. Do not order the lobster, Craig. I know it’s something you would do,” Kevin warns one of the sound guys.
We are eventually un-miced and Layla, the stylist, tells us she will be over in the morning to collect our clothes. We wave her goodbye and head back inside.
“Want to grab dinner together?” I ask Quinn.
“Sounds great. Let me get out of this and freshen up, then I’ll be over.” We leave each other on the grand staircase, her room is at one end, mine is at the other.
A little while later, there’s a knock at the door. I open it, and Quinn is nervously looking down both sides of the hall. She jumps in as soon as the door is open.
“Hey.” Walking over and grabbing her face with my hands, I kiss her passionately.
“Hey, you…” She smiles as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“Can I just say you looked absolutely gorgeous this evening until you crashed and burned at the end of the path.”
She playfully hits my chest, giggling. “I’d like to see you try and navigate that. High heels and tiny stones don’t mix,�
� she groans.
“I was also very proud of you eating the escargot,” I tell her.
She makes a funny face.
“Look, I know in chef land they might be nice, but to my mouth, it’s a big nope. All I could think about was their slimy little faces.” She twists her nose up in disgust. “But I will say the butter and garlic helped.” She grins, then her stomach makes a loud growl making us both laugh. “Sorry, pretty sure my stomach isn’t happy that I fed it snails.”
“Well, we better get you some proper food, then.” I call down to reception and order us dinner.
Eventually, it arrives and is placed in the seated area of my room.
“This is a lot of food. What on earth did you order?” Quinn takes a seat and opens the cloches to see what I have chosen. There’s nothing crazy, but something that pushes her out of her comfort zone.
“Oh, my goodness, this looks beautiful. Hold on, I need to add it to the Gram.” She takes a couple of pictures of the food with her camera.
“Okay, we have La Joute, which is vegetable stew.” Quinn looks up at me a little surprised. “You didn’t think I would put your tastes buds through any more torture tonight, did you?” She shrugs. “We also have a selection of cheeses, and, of course, a bottle of champagne.”
We dig into our food and chat about our day.
It’s more than pleasant having Quinn here with me.
38
Quinn
The sun streams through the curtains waking me up. There’s a warm lump beside me. Sitting up in bed, I turn and look at a disheveled, naked Sebastien beside me.
“Wake up.” I push him.
He rolls over on a groan. “Why are you waking me up? You exhausted me last night,” he mumbles.
This is true, champagne always makes me frisky.
“Oh my God, what time is it?” Looking over at the bedside clock, I scream out, “Shit.” I jump out of bed and frantically try to find my clothes.
