by Farrah Paige
“Wait a minute,” I called. “We have to talk.”
“I was going to Honey’s hotel now,” he said. “You want a ride?”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Hey look, we shared a woman,” he said. “Sharing a car is nothing at this point.”
I got inside the car and we took off toward the hotel.
“I have to talk to you about Honey,” I began.
“Hold on a sec,” said Clark. “Taylor. Need you to put in ear buds, buddy. This is a really private conversation.”
“No problem, Mr. P,” said Taylor the driver, putting his ear buds in and turning on the music.
“I have to tell you,” I said. “That sharing Honey was intense.”
“Yeah,” agreed Clark. “It really was. I never did anything like that before.”
“Now that she’s off the show, she’s going back to Connecticut,” I pointed out. “And maybe this sounds selfish, but I want to do that again.”
“She’s gotta be upset about being kicked off the show,” pointed out Clark. “Not that we had a choice.”
“Ah, she hated the idea from the beginning,” said Ethan. “Now she can go home and go back to her bakery. She’ll be fine. But I need that intensity again.”
“Well, let’s talk to her and see how it goes,” said Clark. “She might be too upset to want to do anything.”
We arrived at the hotel and went straight away to her room. I knocked on the door and she answered. She looked like she was crying. She grabbed us both and cried into our arms.
“Come-come, sit,” I said, trying to calm her down. “It is fine. It’s not your fault.”
“You’re going to be okay,” said Clark. “It’s just a TV show.”
“Don’t talk,” she said. “Just hold me.”
She held onto me and Clark. Then she looked up at me and then Clark. She started kissing him and then me. It quickly became very sensual. She was taking off her chef uniform as she kissed us. I knew she was upset, but I couldn’t hold back my desires to have her again.
We stripped off all of our clothes and climbed on the bed. I kissed her breasts and mouth, while Clark opened her legs, cupped her buttocks and drank deep of her honeypot. I then straddled her chest and using the saliva as lubrication, I started fucking her tits. She stuck out her tongue, ticking the tip of my dick as I did so.
Changing positions, I slipped on a condom and entered her from the rear. She was on all fours sucking on Clark’s cock. I grabbed her by the waist and thrust in slapping her buttocks. The motion pushed her onto Clark’s cock and she moaned deeply with his shaft in her cheeks.
Pulling out, I teased her with my hard member. Then I pushed into her ass. I wanted to feel its tightness on me. She squealed and gasped, but took my cock in her readily, enjoying the sensation.
“Oh, yes. That’s it.” she said aloud. “Fuck my ass. Fuck it raw.”
She went right back to sucking Clark’s dick, only now the friction pushed her forward more forcefully. His balls bounced against her chin as she slobbered on his shaft. After a few minutes, I was ready to burst, but she stopped, wanting to feel us both inside her again.
Clark donned a condom and started fucking her pussy. I went back into her ass and noted how much tighter it felt. Clark’s cock was on the other side of her walls, grinding from the other side. We both went in and out of her like pistons. She screamed and squealed in ecstasy enjoying the sensation and I could feel her juices drip out and on my scrotum.
“Ooooh. Oh, yes.” she moaned. “This is what I want. I want this sooooo baaaaad.”
“God, you’re so tight.” I gasped. “I don’t know how much longer I can, Ooooh. Uhhhnnn.”
I came so hard and unexpectedly, I thought I was going to pass out from the strain. My essence poured into her tight, hot hole, filling her up. Again, the three of us laid there on our side, processing the moment. Clark had cum as well and now Honey was experiencing the post-orgasm bliss. Having been touched deep inside, she now shook and vibrated. I actually think I briefly came again. The sensation was marvelous.
“My God, that was fantastic.” I announced. “It has never been like that for me. I don’t know about you two.”
“Good for me too,” panted Clark. “Although it was fine without you too, so…”
“So what?” I said. “What are you suggesting?”
“Oh, c’mon, Ethan, don’t pretend like we don’t want what we want,” he said. “One of us is going to walk away eventually. I think it will be you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I snapped. “Why would you say something during a moment like this. You’re upsetting Honey.”
“Guys, guys, stop.” she said. “That’s not why I’m upset.”
She climbed out of the bed. Without her between us, I moved away from Clark and he moved away from me.
“Don’t you see? Steven is manipulating you both to keep you fighting,” she said. “He just didn’t think I’d end up with both of you.”
“What? This is impossible,” I said. “I’ve known Steven for years. He’s been a loyal friend. A good producer.”
“Yeah, for me too,” said Clark. “Look, you’re upset about the competition. We get it. You made a mistake. We would’ve covered it up if we could have.”
“No.” she snapped.
“You didn’t even want to do the competition anyway,” said Clark. “What difference does it make?”
“The difference is that I want us to remain friends,” she pleaded. “I want to be with both of you all the time. I know that sounds crazy, but that’s what I want. Steven won’t let that happen. He’s pulling your strings.”
“Honey, you’re just upset and emotional,” I suggested. “I think if you talked to Steven, you’d realized---“
“I did talk to him. I got into a shouting match in his office. He won’t even let me leave. He threatened to sue me if I didn’t honor my contract and do a stupid talk show tomorrow.” she snapped. “Does that sound like a nice guy to you?”
I looked at Clark. We both were into Honey, but Steven had backed us for years. And while I knew he was probably lying to Clark, he would never lie to me. We had gone on vacation together. We called each other on the weekends. We were friends and I couldn’t believe that Steven would betray me.
“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” I suggested. “He’s very dedicated to the show. He just needs you to do a talk show. What’s the big deal? It’s the least you can do before you leave after all the free things.”
“Free things? You think this about free things?” she shouted. “I didn’t even want to be here. I don’t care about limos or being on a TV show.”
“But the money,” said Clark. “This is going to make your business go national. You play this right and you’ll be rich.”
“I don’t care about being rich.” she snapped. “I just wanted to be a baker and maybe meet someone. What is with you two? You’re supposed to be chefs. This was supposed to be about the food.”
“Our television show brings great cuisine to people all over the world,” I said simply. “We’re doing more for food on the show than we ever did in our restaurants.”
“Are you Ethan?” Honey asked. “Who is going to remember taste watching a TV show? You think posting the recipes online is a big deal? There are literally millions of recipes online. You can’t make the world or the world of cuisine better like that. It’s the individual eater. You guys used to cook and give people an experience that was real. Now the experience isn’t even food. And it’s all fake.”
“Calm down, Honey,” said Clark. “I think you’re overstating things a little bit. I’m sure what Steven meant was…”
“Steven bought the plaza where my bakery is located,” she revealed. “He blackmailed me into coming onto the show. He said if I didn’t come onto the show, he’d raise my rent and push me out of the plaza. That would basically close down my business and I only opened up a few months ago. It would take me a year to get set up
somewhere else and he knew that. That’s your friend. He wants to destroy me.”
“Th-that can’t be true,” I said extremely confused. “No, Steven would not do that. I know him. Besides, it would cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
“Doesn’t he have that much? He has to have more than you, right?” said Honey.
“That is true,” said Clark. “But there are thousands of contestants out there. Why would he bother to do all that just to get you to come out for the show?”
“Because he could see.” shouted Honey. “He could see that we were all attracted to one another. That’s why your plane was late, Clark. Or Ethan was early. He made sure to pit you against one another.”
“I don’t need Steven to dislike Clark,” said Ethan. “No offense.”
“Some taken,” added Clark. “But he has a point. We always sorta hated each other.”
“He’s doing the same thing to Rita. Rita sees it. Why can’t you two?” snapped Honey. “Look, I can’t deal with this. You guys have to leave now.”
“But wait,” I said. “We have to talk more about this.”
“What’s there to talk about, Ethan?” she snapped. “You believe him over me? So go be with him if you love Steven so much.”
“Whoa-whoa, we’re not saying that at all,” insisted Clark.
“Then what are you saying?” she demanded.
We didn’t have an answer. The silence hung in the air like a balloon about to burst.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. “Both of you, get dressed and get out.”
Honey stormed into the bathroom and shut the door. We got dressed. Clark tried to coax her out by gently knocking on the door. We could hear her quietly sobbing inside.
“Honey?” he said gently.
“I said. Get out!” she shouted.
“There is nothing to do,” I said. “We should go.”
We got outside the room and walked to the elevator in silence. Inside the elevator we were both thinking about what she had said. There was a lot at stake. The show, friendships, careers--- There had to be some explanation.
“I don’t know what to do here,” said Clark in the elevator. “Steven has always backed me 100%. What she’s saying, basically means he’s been lying to us since the beginning. Can that be possible?”
“Yes, but on the other hand, how well do we really know this woman?” I questioned. “Are we in love with her? Are we in lust with her? Are we just obsessed with beating the other in another competition? I do not know.”
“Don’t the French have a solution for this situation?” joked Clark.
“I’m sure we do,” I half smiled. “But unfortunately, we are not in France. We may have to find our own solution.”
Chapter 17
Honey
I was getting ready in my hotel room and it was super early. Emma was up, but was half asleep. She had gone out with some guy she had met on a dating app. She sounded like she had a good time.
“Oh, my head,” moaned Emma. “I am never drinking tequila again.”
“I’m glad one of us had a good time,” I said. “My night was an emotional rollercoaster. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Just go on the show and be genuine,” said Emma. “Don’t focus on answering the questions, that’s how they trap you. Just say whatever it is that you want to say.”
“Don’t answer the questions?” I said. “Won’t I come off looking rude?”
“No, not if you’re telling the truth,” she assured. “That’ll be more interesting. That talking head always asks about the food or how you messed up. Don’t make it about you, make it about the show and the food.”
“I guess I could do that,” I said. “I don’t know. At this point, I just want the whole thing to be over. I’m tired of Steven, I’m tired of Ethan and Clark--- I just want my life to be simple again.”
“You can do it boss,” said Emma flopping back on the bed, nursing her throbbing head. “I believe in you.”
She put her arm up in triumph and then let if fall back onto the bed.
“You’ll get the bags downstairs and check us out?” I confirmed.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the coffee shop,” she said. “I’m going to need a lot of coffee.”
I got to the lobby. There was no limo. The show sent an Uber. That was fine, it was time to get back to reality. I was relieved. This was the first step in getting away from this nightmare. The Uber driver dropped me off at another studio. I went in and found out where I was supposed to be.
At this point, I was an old pro. I went into make up and patiently waited in the green room until they needed me. I had a couple of snacks and a few sips of water, but not too much since I didn’t want to have to go to the bathroom in the middle of my interview.
I came to a ready room and the associate producer sat me down. She explained that Sandra would come out, ask me questions about the show and that I should keep it short. The show started. Oddly, I wasn’t nervous. I guess it was because I knew this would be over soon. The show started and I waited for my cue.
“Please welcome our next guest, Chef Honey Davidson,” Sandra introduced.
I walked out. Underneath the applause, I could’ve sworn I heard some boos, but I dismissed them. I sat across from Sandra and crossed my legs.
“Welcome to the show, Honey,” greeted Sandra with a plastic smile that was not unlike the one Rita always wore. “Tell use what happened there. You were on Baker Battles, you swept the first three competitions, but then on the doughnuts you made a huge error. That seemed to be an error that even an amateur could’ve avoided. Let’s watch the tape.”
Sandra played the segment and it made me look even worse with a bit of selective editing. Again, I could hear the audience groan and boo me a little. What was reality was manipulated by these people into whatever they decided was entertaining. They didn’t care what really happened, but I was going to tell them.
“So what happened?” asked Sandra.
“I think the producer of the show, Steven, manipulated me and several of the staff of the show. I think it’s about getting ratings and has nothing to do with food, fairness or reality,” I said.
“I see,” she said smugly. “Are you saying that the show is rigged to pick contestants? That it’s plotted out in advanced?”
I could see what Emma was saying. If I addressed that question, she could easily say that the show wasn’t “plotted” because it wasn’t. It probably wasn’t even totally rigged by the strictest sense of the word. The more correct, nuanced term would be “heavily guided in a particular direction”, but that subtle distinction would be lost upon this morning crowd.
“I’m not sure if the show is rigged,” I said.
“Well, that’s a bold accusation.” Sandra laughed a little disturbingly.
This bitch. She was just as fake and plastic as Rita. Fuck her.
“I got kicked off the show because I was dating both judges,” I suddenly said.
The audience gasped. They didn’t know to make of it. Sandra managed to roll with it.
“Okay, okay, settle down,” she said to the audience.
The audience laughed a little. She turned back on me, prepared to do verbal battle.
“Now, we all heard the rumors,” she smiled. “I’m just a little surprised you would come onto this family show and admit that. Don’t you think it makes you look pretty suspicious? I mean, c’mon, you expect us to believe that you competed honestly when you were sleeping with the judges? Do you think that was fair to the other contestants?”
“That part of the show could not have been rigged,” I insisted. “Ethan and Clark didn’t know who baked what. They choose solely on taste.”
“Except in macaroon, when Clark had to take himself out of the running to defend you,” pointed out Sandra.
“He recused himself and let Ethan pick the winner,” I pointed out. “Steven, the producer, is manipulating the reality of the show and the peopl
e that work on it. I didn’t want to be on the show at all, but Steven bought the building where my bakery is located. He insisted that I do the show or he’d run me out of business.”
“Why should we believe any of this?” laughed Sandra, incredulous.
“I don’t care what you believe at all, Sandra,” I said. “I only care what the audience believes. So if they believe that fake smile you put on and your smug laughter, then fine. But I know you and Steven are friends and that he promised you these interviews.”
Sandra bristled and shifted in her chair. She stammered a bit. I could tell she was furious. The audience was making strange noises. They were slowly starting to turn against her.
“Hey, what the hell, Sandra?” someone suddenly said.
The audience shouted and wanted to know the answer. The fickle mob had turned on its former leader, but she was ready to deal with it.
“Then we really don’t know who is the best baker, wouldn’t you say?” she asked.
“No, we don’t,” I agreed. “I just want this to be over.”
The audience gave me an “Awwww”, they were starting to sympathize with me. Sandra pulled out the big guns.
“Well, maybe we should have another baking contest right here with you and the other contestants,” she suggested. “What say you audience?”
The audience roared with approval. I sunk in my chair. I think my mouth wrote a check my butt couldn’t cash. Not only that, I would have to spend God-knows-how-many-more-days in Los Angeles.
“Okay, fine,” I said. “I’ll play your game. Bring it on.”
The crowd roared. This time in my favor.
“Okay, I’ll do you one better,” said Sandra. “How about you bake against your lovers Ethan and Clark?”
The audience roared even louder now. This was turning into a Roman circus. I expected at any minute to be thrown to the lions. In retrospect, I think I was. Then I thought it was a perfect way for me to teach Ethan and Clark a lesson. I could embarrass them on their precious TV. Not only that, I could prove what a sleazeball their friend Steven really was.
“Yeah, let’s do this.” I shouted.
