by Holly Rayner
He almost didn’t want to ask, considering George’s attention really should have been on the road. But at least they were in traffic, and not moving down the highway.
“Sir, I told you I would need you to keep an open mind. You were talking about wanting to get visibility for the app, and what could be more visible than being on TV? It’s free advertising. It’s even better than free advertising! It’s advertising that they pay you to do. As far as return on investment, this breaks the formula!”
Yep, that had definitely been rehearsed in front of a mirror. It certainly sounded like it.
“So let me get this straight. You want me to, what? Learn to act in the hopes that people will want to check out their favorite TV star’s side project?”
George craned his neck to look back at his employer, but then he seemed to remember that he was still driving and should keep his eyes on the road.
“No, sir, it’s nothing like that. That’s the best part—you won’t have to act at all. You’ll be playing yourself. And here’s the thing—you won’t even have to learn any lines or anything. You won’t actually have to interact with anyone in any real way at all. All you have to do is sit there, look handsome, speak Italian, and enjoy all the beautiful women vying for your attention. I don’t think any of those things would be a problem for you, sir.”
Now that George had said it, Matteo could see that they were, in fact, in the area of town where the Miami branches of the TV studios had all set up, within a competitive distance of one another. George had taken his sweet time bringing this up, and they were almost at their destination before Matteo had a chance to refuse.
At least he was doing initiative right.
“So, it’s a reality show?” He let every ounce of the disapproval he felt seep into his voice. But for once, George’s excitement and confidence were difficult to puncture.
“I know, I know… It might be the kind of thing that the snobs you were just talking to in New York wouldn’t think much of. But to most people down here, publicity is king. And isn’t that what you want—publicity? And specifically, you said you wanted the app to seem exclusive, like it was difficult to get into. You wanted investors to feel like they had to win you over, not the other way around. You wanted potential users to feel lucky to be allowed to download the app. That was what you said, wasn’t it? And what better way to make people feel like they have to fight for your attention and approval, than watching a dozen gorgeous women trying to fight for your attention and approval?”
The speech was definitely well-rehearsed. At least the kid had gotten to use all his prepared lines, he thought. But this last bit seemed more natural. George seemed to be getting into the swing of it now. Maybe I’ll be able to make a businessman out of him yet.
The car came to a stop in front of a nondescript building on a nondescript street, with unusually attractive people walking in and out of the front door.
“I take it this is it?” he asked.
“Break a leg, sir.”
As he headed into the building, Matteo reflected that, some days, he knew exactly why he hired George. Other days, he wondered what on earth he had been thinking.
Chapter 3
Josie
Things always happened quickly when Lewis got started with something. That was how he liked things—quick-moving. It had been a stumbling block in their relationship, even though Lewis seemed to know well enough not to push too hard or try to get her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. Which, it turned out was pretty much anything physical at all.
But now that they were in his world of deals and additions and appointments and schmoozing, he apparently felt free to move things along at his preferred breakneck pace. So it was the very next day that Josie found herself standing in front of the studio building wondering what she had gotten herself into.
“Josie!”
In spite of herself, Josie couldn’t help but be relieved to hear the familiar sound of Lewis calling her name. He came right up to her, gave her a hug and then a kiss on the cheek. He seemed genuinely excited, and his excitement was, if Josie were honest with herself, actually a bit contagious.
“Did you find the place all right?” Lewis asked her.
Josie nodded, finding it difficult to speak.
Even standing outside of the building, the energy of the place was overwhelming. In the minute or two she had been standing outside, she had seen three or four girls head into the building. Each of them had seemed excited and nervous. She’d felt like that when she had booked her first runway show and when she had gone to her first shoot. Josie felt a little tinge of guilt at having to be talked into something that these women were clearly so excited to join. Competing to join, even.
“You’re sure they want me for this?” she asked finally.
She didn’t know if she was looking for reassurance, or an excuse. Lewis put his hand on her back, gently urging her toward the studio door.
“Well, that’s what we’re here to find out. But between you and me, my fellow producers and I have a pretty good sense of what we want. And you certainly…check all the boxes.”
They walked in, past the reception desk and the women who were waiting there. They walked down the hallway and into a nondescript room with a camera, a folding table with chairs, a single chair set up in the middle, and a few slightly bored-looking people.
One of them, a well-dressed woman in her thirties, was at the table munching on a sandwich. She appeared to notice when Josie came into the room but didn’t acknowledge her. The man sitting to her right looked like he could be Lewis’s clone. The two had the same polished friendliness, and Josie found herself wondering if they got along very well or not at all. As she scanned the room she saw that there was actually another person there—an assistant, she assumed—who took up so little space that she hadn’t even noticed him at first. This seemed to be intentional.
“That chair is yours,” Lewis said, loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.
Josie went to the lonely chair and did her best to get into character. She didn’t know what character they were looking for, but she figured it was probably the same one she put on for runway shows—confident, put together, sure not only of herself but also of everything she wants to be.
Lewis went around behind the table and sat next to his clone. The woman eating the sandwich didn’t put it down but did at least finally look up.
“All right! Cameras rolling. Josie, tell us why you’re here.”
They obviously didn’t want the truth. Josie was taken aback. She probably should have known that she’d have to prepare some kind of story other than “my ex talked me into it.” But learning about the show and the audition had all happened so quickly, she hadn’t had the chance.
“I guess…I just want to find love?”
The woman eating the sandwich audibly groaned around the food in her mouth. To his credit, Lewis’s smile somehow never wavered.
“Yes, that’s a classic, but a little overdone at this point. And, if we’re being honest, not really what we’re looking for here.”
Josie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want women who are looking for love? Or, I mean, who are at least saying they’re here looking for love?”
Sandwich woman finally put down her sandwich and held up a finger to indicate they should all wait while she finished chewing. When she did, Josie finally heard her voice. It was surprisingly nasal for a woman her size.
“We picked a billionaire, and you’re not going to be able to understand a single word he says. There is a reason for both of those things. We don’t want to look like we’re taking advantage of naïve young women who don’t know what they’re getting into. You get that, right?”
Josie regrouped. This was acting. She had acted many times without words. She had put on faces that she didn’t feel and made the camera believe it. This was no different.
“Well, I’m really excited to meet someone kind of different. I’ve always felt pre
tty different from the people in my town, so I think going for a foreigner might be good for me, you know?”
Sandwich woman wasn’t buying it. And Josie knew that she wasn’t going where they wanted her to. The Lewis clone said something to her about each contestant committing and following the spirit of the show. She wasn’t really listening. She was trying to convince herself to do what she already knew they wanted her to do. The hard part was making the words come out of her mouth.
Half of her wanted to pull Lewis aside and make him convince her again that this was even a good idea. How had he done that in the first place? It was hard to remember now. But if she gave up this chance, she wouldn’t get it back—and it was a good chance. A good stepping-stone. Ah, right. That was how he had convinced her.
She took her voice and general demeanor still another step toward the ditzy and uneducated. She added a hair flip. She nudged her lips a little closer to duck face.
“I mean, if he were loaded I wouldn’t mind.”
Lewis shot her an encouraging look, and Josie went on.
“It always seems dumb to me that there’s all these girls running around trying to make a career when all that work is already being done. If men are going to pay women less for working, why should we work at all? Let them do the work, and we’ll spend the money.”
The Lewis clone seemed to be sold. Sandwich woman was getting there.
Lewis’s encouraging voice felt out of place here somehow. “Look directly at the camera. We want to be able to really feel this when we watch it later.”
Josie shifted and looked directly at the recording camera. This was it. Her lies were going to be recorded for all posterity. But then, the camera had already captured everything she’d said so far. She may as well go with it.
“Look, a guy that’s hot, rich and single is what every woman actually wants. I know it, you know it, we just don’t say it. But hey, if they’re going to do the work for me and find a guy, I’m all for it. And if I don’t have to listen to him yammer on about whatever he’s into, all the better. I think it’s going to be way easier to land him if I don’t have to pretend I care what he’s saying.”
Josie thought she could see a trace of a smile on the corner of sandwich woman’s lips, but maybe it was just mayo. Lewis stood, and Josie took the hint and stood up too. Lewis clone said something about thanking her for her time, coming in today, and that they would let her know soon. But Josie was already halfway to the door.
She had done well. She could feel it in her bones, the feeling she always got when she knew she nailed exactly what the photographer or the designer wanted her to be in an issue or on the runway. But no time before had she felt quite as fake as she did now.
She’d succeeded, but at what cost?
“That was great!” Lewis said, but Josie wasn’t really listening. She just wanted to go home.
Chapter 4
Matteo
Matteo had never liked the feeling of being bullied into things. But, then again, this wasn’t really being bullied into anything. He held all the power here, and they knew it, judging from the way they were treating him. And besides, it was hard to encourage George to show a little more confidence, and if this was George’s idea of a brilliant new strategy, there was nothing but a little time lost in pursuing it. He would be spending the next few days convincing others to do what he wanted, just as he had been doing in New York. It would be a welcome break to have others try to win him over.
The building wasn’t opulent, at least not by the standards that Matteo had grown used to over the last few years. It was, however, sufficiently shiny and well-kept to portray a certain amount of success. Just enough success, Matteo assumed. It was all a matter of cost and benefits, wasn’t it? How much they should spend on the offices so that they could efficiently impress their clientele, versus how much they could save to pass on to the people pulling the strings? The people on his level.
But at least these people really seem to want to lay out the red carpet for him. The moment he walked into the building, he was met by an attractive receptionist who stood up from behind her desk, walked around, smiled, and gestured toward the hallway.
“Right this way, sir. They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”
The receptionist walked ahead of him, escorting him to a room that had clearly been set aside just for the purpose. There was a sidebar with a variety of snacks, and comfortable chairs around a table that looked like it probably cost more than the rent on the building.
“Mr. Bonnuci! We’re so glad that you could take the time to meet with us today.”
The man who spoke was well put together, and exactly the sort of person who should be participating in a meeting like this. He was smooth, and businesslike, and Matteo found he hated him immediately.
“My name is Lewis Tanner. I believe I spoke with your assistant on the phone. We’re so excited to have you interested in this project.”
Matteo took a seat, ignoring Lewis’s offered hand. “I have to be honest with you, this really isn’t my kind of thing. You do seem to have convinced my assistant, however, so I’ll give you ten minutes.”
There were other people in the room, but Lewis didn’t seem interested in introducing them. Instead, he launched into a speech that was exactly the sort of thing that Matteo had been expecting. He was asked to imagine himself surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women, with all eyes on him and seeking his approval. He was asked to imagine how it would affect his brand, to be seen as such a desirable person, whose attention was not only difficult to earn, but worth earning. He was asked to imagine the fringe benefit of such a position—especially once the cameras were turned off.
Matteo had already made up his mind. He had made up his mind before he walked into the building, and there was nothing that Lewis had said that would change it now. And Lewis seemed to be familiar enough with business that he recognized that, at least.
“I understand why you might be hesitant,” he said earnestly. “Your time is valuable, and we definitely wouldn’t be requesting any of it without ample compensation.”
Really? Did this man have any idea what “ample compensation” would mean to a billionaire?
Lewis seemed to remember himself, and who he was speaking to. “Not that what we can offer is significant to a man of your wealth and status, but it would at least be…not an insulting number.”
No change. Time might be money for most people, but Matteo he had been well off for long enough that those two values had well and truly decoupled from each other. Money for his time was never going to be a fair exchange. His time was infinitely more valuable.
“We would also, of course, do everything in our power to make the shooting process as pleasant as possible for you. The cameras would be on, sure, but really it would be about whatever you wanted. If you need to change the format, sure. If you want to eliminate more women every week, we can work with that. Really it’s up to whatever you want.”
They were willing to compromise pretty much any aspect of the show to get him to sign on, Matteo realized. He was almost embarrassed for the man, but he realized that, really, he had a difficult job ahead of him. All of these shows must want billionaires, but billionaires have better things to do. Promises of beautiful women didn’t really hold much water—a billionaire such as himself could go out for the evening and find many beautiful women to hang on his arm, and not have to spend so much of his time posing and preening for other people to see.
Lewis seemed to be running out of strategies. He covered the desperation well, but Matteo could still see it in the hurried way he turned and picked up a sheet of papers that had been sitting, unnoticed, at the end of the table this entire time. His hands moved quickly, sorting out glossy eight-by-ten photos from the papers around them. One by one, Lewis laid them out on the table in front of Matteo.
“And, as for the talent, we’re still settling on our final contestants, but I think you’ll agree that we assembled quite a group to
choose from.”
This entire situation might be an annoyance. It might even be a waste of time. But at least Matteo was going to get a moment or two to admire a bit of beauty before he went on his way with his important meetings for the day. He allowed his eyes to drift over the women on display in front of him.
Most of the photographs were professional headshots. No real surprise there. Matteo found it hard to imagine that, by now, most viewers weren’t aware that all the contestants on the show were really just actresses. They had stand-in professions, sure, as Matteo could see on attached sheets. But it did all seem to be a show, and they were hoping to be in show business above all.
Matteo reached out to the table and began sorting through the photos. Looking at this one, or that one, and feeling a little bit sorry that he would never meet any of these women. They seemed pretty enough, even if they weren’t at all the kind of person that Matteo would ever be interested in.
“Look,” he said, while idly sorting through the photos. “I appreciate that you put all of this together. And I wish you luck with your little project, I really do. But this just isn’t—”
His voice stopped. He hadn’t meant to stop talking. Something had taken his attention away. There, in front of him, was a glossy image that was different from all the rest. This wasn’t a headshot. Probably a photo from a magazine shoot.
The woman was dressed in fashion-forward clothing, well outside of the mainstream. Matteo had learned a certain amount about fashion over the last few years of being a wealthy individual, but he still probably didn’t have the vocabulary to describe the outfit.
What he did know was that if the point of this shoot was to sell the clothing the model was wearing, as he believed it was supposed to be, this photograph was doing a terrible job of it. Absolutely nothing in Matteo was interested in what the woman was wearing. All of his attention, all of his focus, seemed to be pulled irresistibly to the woman herself.
