Reality Girl: Episode One

by Jessica Hildreth

  “It is easy.” He rubbed his palms together. “What’s his name?”

  “Rhett.”

  “Rhett? Holy shit. His mother was a hopeless romantic.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Gone with the Wind? The book, by Margaret Mitchell? Rhett Butler was the hero. What a name. Well, if you’re a douchebag.”

  “I like it. Or, at least I did.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Rhett, the pizza incident revealed enough about you that I decided it’s in our best interest that we not continue along any romantic path together. Don’t try to explain or make excuses, my decision is made. I came here in hope of finding someone to love, and--”

  “Finding someone compatible,” I interrupted. “Not a lover, compatibility.”

  He sighed. “I came here in hope of finding someone I’m compatible with – then, you can name any other reasons you can think of.” He stood up and began to pace the floor behind the bar. “After you list the reasons, tell him that you want to try and get along for the rest of the show, and that’s it.”

  “Do I really have to?”

  “You should.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t, it’ll be awkward. And, it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Do you always do what’s right?”

  “I try to.”

  Why didn’t Kelli pick you for the show?

  “I wish Kelli would have picked you for the show.”

  He stopped pacing and turned to face me. “The fact I’m not on the show, and never would be, is what separates me from those idiots. Tell yourself whatever you want, but you’re not looking for compatibility. You’re looking for love. That’s okay. But you’re not going to find it there. You’re just not.”

  I stared back at him, convinced he was right.

  On both parts.

  He wasn’t one of the idiots.

  And, I was looking for love.

  My problem – at least one of my problems – was that I feared I wasn’t going to find it.

  At least not where I was being forced to look.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I had reached a point that instead of counting the amount of days I got to spend with Rhett; I was counting how many days it was until he was gone.

  Eleven.

  Eleven torturous days remained, and I felt like time was standing still.

  Right thing to do, or wrong thing to do, talking to Rhett about how I felt wasn’t going to be an easy. Although telling men no wasn’t something I did very often, I decided Franky was right. Implementing my plan and doing it, however, took three days.

  We were in the living room. Rhett was mindlessly staring at a basketball game. I was watching him watch the game, and wondering how I ever thought – if even for a minute – that he could be the one.

  I felt like such an overeager fool.

  “We need to talk.”

  While he continued to stare at the television, he responded. “About what? You ready to fuck?”

  I found it difficult to believe that he was so much different than he appeared to be the first night we met. We had gone from watching the sunset together to having not one thing in common in seventeen days.

  “No,” I snapped. “We’re not fucking again. Ever.”

  He continued to stare at the television. “Yeah. I figured that one out. Still butt hurt about that pizza, huh? Man, you’re stubborn.”

  “I’m not butt hurt about the pizza.”

  With the remote dangling loosely from his hand, he remained slumped into the arm of the couch with his eyes fixed on the basketball game. After a few long minutes of silence, I made a mental note to ask Franky if he was a sports fan.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Time for dinner?” he asked.

  “No,” I growled. “It’s not.”

  He continued to stare at the game.

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About us.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “No you’re not. You’re watching the game.”

  “But I’m listening.”

  “Can you pay attention to me?”

  “I am paying attention to you. I’m multitasking. Men are good at it.”

  You fucking prick.

  I had every intention of trying to be nice, but he was making it difficult. My concerns about trying to preserve his feelings were long gone.

  “Fine.” I stood up. “If you’re paying attention – and you’re good at it – this won’t take long. I’ve decided that I don’t like you. At all. There won’t be any chance of us ever getting together, now or ever. So, we can either figure out a way to remain friendly for the next eleven days, or we can forget we even know each other, I really don’t care.”

  “Whoa.” He sat up, looked at me, and blinked a few times. “What the hell happened? You start your period? Aunt Flo come to town?”

  “Fuck you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  I cocked my hip and shot him a glare. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  He crossed his arms and puffed his chest. “Nobody tells me to fuck off.”

  “I didn’t tell you to fuck off. I said fuck you.”

  He glared at me. “Same as far as I’m concerned.”

  “If that’s the case, you’re wrong, then. Someone did tell you to fuck off. And, that someone was me. I’m done talking to you. You came here for one reason and one reason only, to fuck. You got what you were after. Wallow in it, because you’re never getting it again.”

  “You were with someone else the other night. Weren’t you?”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You really think that’s what this was about? You were an inconsiderate asshole. You thought my vegetables were going to ruin your pizza. Relationships are about sacrifice, and if you can’t sacrifice half a pizza, there’s no possibility of us having a future. You failed. Get over it.”

  I turned toward the kitchen and began walking away.

  “I didn’t fail,” he growled.

  I paused and turned around. “Wow, did I hit a nerve?”

  “I didn’t fail.”

  I coughed out a laugh. “Actually, you did.”

  “I’ve never failed at anything in my life.”

  “Well.” I turned away. “You failed at this. Miserably. And, repeatedly.”

  “Bullshit. You gave up.”

  I raised my clenched fist in the air “You failed at sex. You didn’t even care if I had an orgasm the first time. You just wanted to get your nut.” I extended my index finger. “You failed at the pool. You could have licked my pussy, but you waited for another blowjob. You’re selfish.” I extended another finger. “You failed at the pizza party, because you’re a selfish prick, and wouldn’t let me have something on my half of the pizza I truly enjoyed.” I extended another. “And, then you failed again when you didn’t apologize--”

  “You little bitch,” he seethed.

  Bitch?

  I spun around.

  He was stomping across the floor, coming in my direction. As I mentally prepared to kick him in the balls, two big goons – who I hadn’t seen before – came rushing down the hallway, ran past me, and into the room.

  “Settle down, Sir. Just take it easy,” one of them said as he grabbed Rhett. The other stood close behind.

  Apparently they were on set security. I realized there was a production room set up in one of the spare bedrooms, but I had no idea there were security personnel available. Had I known, I probably would have used a few more choice words in my departing comments.

  “Fucking asshole,” I fumed. “I’m out of here.”

  I yanked the front door open and stomped toward the Suburban, which was parked in the circle drive. Growing up on a farm, I’d always hoped that one day I would have a circle drive. Now that I had one, I wished I was back on the farm.

  The driver was leaning on the front fender smoking a cigarett
e.

  “Come on, we’re leaving,” I said.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Same place you took me the other day, but this time, don’t give me any grief,” I said. “I’m not in the fucking mood.”

  “Very well.” He bent over and snuffed his cigarette. “How late will you be staying?”

  “Until I feel like coming back,” I said. “And that might be a while.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “All I’ve got to do is put a note on the door,” Franky said. “Believe me, I don’t have a problem with it.” His mouth slowly curled into a smile after he spoke, revealing his inner interest in following through with his offer.

  I smiled at the thought of it. “And then what?”

  “What do you mean, then what? Then, we go out the back door, get in the Jeep, and drive to the beach. When we come back, I’ll just drop you off down the block and you can walk right up to your driver like nothing happened.”

  A trip to the beach sounded nice, and the sun hadn’t set quite yet. Seeing it from the beach would no doubt be a nice change.

  “Your place faces the beach. I’m sure you’ve seen the sun set a hundred times from the pool, haven’t you?”

  “No,” I lied.

  I wanted to forget about Rhett, what we had done together, the few things we had shared, and undoubtedly the sunset I watched with him on the first night we met.

  “Seriously? You haven’t enjoyed the sunset?”

  His wording of the question made it much easier to respond. Had I enjoyed it? the answer was a definite no.

  I shook my head. “Not yet.”

  “Jen left an hour ago because we were slow. All I’ve got to do is let Pete go and then lock this fucker up,” he said.

  I tried to hide my excitement, but I’m sure I fell short. I was beginning to find a strange comfort in spending time with Franky, even though I knew we weren’t going to be intimate. Being in his presence made me feel warm and safe and relaxed.

  It was quite possible I felt the way I did because of the lack of intimacy. Maybe it, in itself, allowed me to relax, along with the relaxation came comfort.

  I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet in anticipation. “Let’s do it.”

  He clapped his hands together. “Be back in a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  In a few minutes, he returned with a thin piece of cardboard. He held it at arm’s length.

  FAMILY EMERGENCY FORCES EARLY CLOSURE

  NORMAL HOURS TOMORROW

  SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE

  “Looks good,” I said with a smile.

  He taped the note on the door, locked it, and then began walking toward me. “Pete’s gone. Place is officially closed. Door’s locked. You ready?”

  I was more than ready. Comparing my time with Franky to my time with Rhett was like comparing a prison sentence to freedom. There was no comparison.

  I jumped from the stool. “Uh huh.”

  The drive to the beach was uneventful, and took all of three minutes. After parking, we got out and began walking toward the beach. Much to my surprise, it was void of any breach dwellers. It fascinated me that an area so beautiful – and peaceful – wasn’t a place of interest to the locals, even if it was off-season.

  Although I was pretty sure no one was following us, I still checked over my shoulder occasionally, just to make sure.

  “Why are you so nervous?” he asked.

  I chuckled. “Just don’t want the paparazzi following us.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  He reached for my hand, and at first I didn’t realize what he was doing. He then leaned to the side with his arm outstretched and shot me a playful wide-eyed stare.

  “What?”

  “Your hand,” he said.

  At that instant I realized what it was he wanted, and I began to tingle. The offer to hold my hand wasn’t a sexual advance on his part, nor was it a sensual, but to me, it was special.

  As I took his hand in mine, I shifted my eyes to the horizon, and the experience became almost earth shattering.

  The sun, low on the horizon, began to illuminate the few clouds that surrounded it. Pinks, purples, oranges, and blues slowly developed, and hand-in-hand we walked toward the shoreline.

  I remained silent, as did he, until we reached the water.

  I reluctantly released his hand and took off my shoes. In turn, he removed his sneakers and rolled up his jeans. We left our footwear there on the empty beach, and although he didn’t offer, I reached for his hand – hoping the offer still stood.

  He took my hand, and we walked along the shore. Positioned close enough to the ocean that the incoming tide washed over my feet on occasion, the stroll along the beach, at least for me, was life changing.

  I’d never taken a walk along the beach, and got lost in doing so for some time. Hand-in-hand we walked for what I expected was a mile, without saying a word. For someone who hadn’t personally witnessed something as breathtaking as the Pacific Ocean during sunset, it proved worthy of the silence we both provided.

  We continued our leisurely stroll, all the while my eyes were glued to the horizon. Eventually, the sun began to melt into the water, and he stopped. A tug against my hand prompted me to follow him a few feet away from the threat of the tide, and we sat down in the sand at each other’s side.

  I turned toward the picturesque scene, and found one lone sailboat off in the distance. While alternating glances between it and the sunset, I rested my head on Franky’s shoulder.

  When all of the colors disappeared, and the sky began to darken, I turned toward him. He returned a blissful look and grinned.

  I smiled in return, and, at that moment, decided chiseled jawlines, rock hard abs, a porn star cock, nor bulging mattered. What did matter was a man’s ability to be caring and human; which were two things that Franky certainly possessed.

  I lifted my head. “What now?”

  He reached around me and pulled me into him.

  “Just close your eyes and listen,” he said. “I come here all the time and do it.”

  I did as he asked.

  One by one, the distant noises disappeared. With my eyes closed tight, I continued to listen. All that remained was the sound of the ocean and our shallow breathing. I lowered my head, but this time to his chest, and as his heartbeat filled my ear. I realized that far beyond all of his attractive qualities there was a man who was simple.

  And thoughtful.

  And quite considerate.

  Yet.

  I could not have him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Kelli stood at the end of the couch with her hands on her hips and glared at me. The muscles in her neck were tight and a lone vein pulsed with each beat of her heart. “Do you realize the conditions of your contract afford us the ability to sue you if you fuck this thing up?”

  The thought of being sued by the production company scared me to death. I would quickly go from being broke to being destitute. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and hoped to respond. I needed to say something.

  “You came home at three o’ clock in the fucking morning,” she snarled. “The driver’s shift ended at midnight. And, just like everyone else here, he’s a union employee.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  It was all I had to offer.

  “Been a lot of that lately. You’re sorry. Well, that fixes it, now doesn’t it?”

  I knew it didn’t, but wished it could. I rubbed my tired eyes and tried to wake up. “You never told me I had a curfew.”

  “Everything’s in your contract. Did you ever bother reading it?”

  I hadn’t. I didn’t feel the need. I stared back at her wondering just how much trouble – financial, and otherwise – I could get myself into if I continued to make her mad.

  “I scanned through it,” I lied.

  “The premise of this show is that you interact with six men, and we film it. You, Lou, are the star of the show. You�
�re what draws in our viewers. Your pretty face, Midwest charm, and those great legs of yours. If you’re not here, we can’t film you. If we can’t film you, we have no show. If we have no show, we have no viewers. If we have no viewers.” She tossed her hands in the air. “Who do you think is going to want to pay for an advertisement spot?”

  “Nobody?” I squeaked.

  She nodded. “Nobody.”

  “This thirty-day thing is going to change. I should have known it wasn’t going to work. After this shit-head SEAL leaves, the remaining men will be fourteen days. That’s it. We’ll make it look like a month, fuck, I don’t know. And, from here on out, you don’t get to pick who’s next, I do.”

  I wasn’t about to try and argue with her. Two weeks, as far as I was concerned, was far better than four. I wanted the disaster to end as soon as possible so I could collect my paycheck.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay what?” she snapped.

  “Okay to what you said. The two weeks and you pick the guys.”

  “Well, hell yes it’s okay,” she shouted. “Do you think I was asking your opinion?”

  I tossed the pillow aside, stood up, and folded the throw blanket I had used for the few hours that I had been sleeping. After placing it over the arm of the couch, I turned toward her and cleared my throat.

  “Listen. This guy? Rhett? He’s a fucking prick. Last night, he came after me like he was going to hit me. I’m done with him, and I’m done with you yelling at me. If you had someone here that wasn’t a complete jackass, we wouldn’t be talking about me being out all night--”

  “Listen,” she interrupted.

  “Don’t interrupt me,” I said. “It’s not polite”

  Her mouth curled into a shallow smile. “Go ahead.”

  “I’m not a bad person, and I don’t want to sabotage your show. But you can’t expect me to be with that douchebag and make it look like we’re getting along, because I hate that guy. And, that thing out at the pool? I haven’t been with a man since my junior year in college, and I really thought this guy was the one. I let loose. That’s not me, so…just…just remember that. I really like sex, but I’m not a skank. Oh, I would appreciate it if you didn’t yell at me.”

  Her eyes shot wide. “You hadn’t had sex in two years?”