“It’ll be fine,” I said. “I know you can do it. Just be yourself.”
She shook her head. “I can’t! You know, before I arrived, I watched a documentary about how they make reality shows, and it said that the producers always try to create drama. I just know that someone’s going to set me up to do something horrible.”
She was right, that was exactly what a lot of producers did. They’d manipulate their girls to say or do something in order to create a tense or dramatic situation, because it was a cheap way to get good ratings. I didn’t personally do that, though. I’d always found that manipulation wasn’t necessary—if you stick twenty-four women in a house with no phones or internet and pit them against each other to gain the affection of just one man, they inevitably get bored or competitive enough to create their own drama.
I crouched down so that Hayley was slightly above me in her seat—I’d found that this technique helped people like her feel as if they had control. “You know, you’re right about that,” I said. “Some shows and producers are like that. But that’s not going to happen to you on this show, okay? You’re a sweet girl; no one wants to set you up.”
She sniffed. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“I’m still worried about the cameras following us absolutely everywhere.”
“Would it help if I told you about the layout of the first episode?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Each Stud episode is forty-five minutes long, and for the first one, at least fifteen whole minutes of that screen time is focused on the introduction videos we’ve already filmed. Then there’s another five minutes of general shots of scenery or the whole group. That leaves twenty-five minutes of screen time for the girls at the party tonight, and there are twenty-four girls. So in this episode, you’ll only get about a minute or so of screen time dedicated to you. Maybe even less. So unless you really screw up or do something dramatic or bitchy, the cameras will barely be on you.”
Usually we would never tell a contestant how little screen time she’d be getting in the first few weeks of the show (seeing as most of them craved attention like the rest of us craved oxygen) but Hayley really seemed to be worrying, and I knew it would make her feel better to know that every single second of her life wouldn’t be broadcasted.
She nodded. “That actually does help. Thanks. I don’t even know why I’m freaking out so much. I knew exactly what I signed up for.”
“I know, but it’s one thing to simply think about being on camera, and another thing to actually do it,” I replied. “A lot of contestants get freaked out in the first few weeks.”
That was true. I’d dealt with enough teary breakdowns to know.
“Yeah, I just worry that I’ll trip over or do something else really dumb, and that’ll get captured,” Hayley replied.
I gestured down at her five inch high heels. “If you’re that worried about tripping, lose the heels. You’re already tall; do you really need them tonight?”
She gave me a watery smile and shook her head. “No, and they hurt like hell to wear. I’m just wearing them because everyone else is.”
I leaned in close. “Here’s a tip for you. The Studs always notice the women who are different and unique in some way. If everyone else is wearing heels and you aren’t, he’ll notice, and he’ll probably start to see you as a more down-to-earth kinda gal. He might even talk to you more than the other women, because he’ll see you as more relatable. That could give you an edge.”
She nodded. “I didn’t even think of that,” she said. “Thanks, Eden. You’ve been really helpful. You’re not at all what I pictured when I was thinking about what all the evil, manipulative producers might be like.”
I smiled. “Glad to hear it. Now, are you ready to go into the party? It’s only just started, so you haven’t missed anything yet.”
“Sure. I’ll just go change my shoes first.”
As she walked upstairs, I headed into the ballroom on the ground floor of the mansion. It was already starting to fill up with contestants, all dressed to the nines as usual, and crew members were also circulating around, making sure everything got off to a good start. Across the room, I could see Troy surrounded by cameras and four women, all fawning over him, and I tried to ignore how good he looked. I didn’t want to admit it, because it was him, but damn…the man could really fill out a tux. I could hardly stop staring.
“Eden?”
I turned to see Cailin standing behind me, a concerned look on her face. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked. “You should try to talk to Troy; get some conversation time in with him for the cameras.”
“I will. I just wanted to make sure that the hors d’oeuvre on the table over there…”
“The food is all peanut free,” I cut in, giving her a smile. “Don’t worry, go and party!”
She smiled and headed off, and my gaze returned to Troy. This time, he was looking right at me and ignoring all the women around him, and I abruptly turned my head away as my cheeks filled with lusty heat.
How could this be happening? After all this time, the prick could still make me melt with just a single glance. I couldn’t show him that, though.
I quickly left the ballroom and headed up the spiral stairs to find Hayley, wanting to make sure she’d found her new shoes…or at least that’s what my excuse would be if anyone asked why I wasn’t at the party. Truthfully, I just wanted to get out of the same room as Troy, before he noticed how he was still affecting me.
My train of thought was interrupted by a shrill scream coming from one of the contestant’s bedrooms, and my pulse began to race as I realized I recognized the voice.
Blair.
Chapter Six
Eden
I rushed up the long hallway and stopped at Blair’s door. It was unlocked, and I pushed it open before searching the room for my friend, cursing myself for not having noticed that she hadn’t made it down to the ballroom yet.
“Blair, what’s happening? I thought I heard you scream. Are you okay?” I called out, not seeing her.
“No,” she said from the bathroom. “It’s ruined!”
“What’s ruined?” I asked, crossing the room and rapping on the bathroom door. I tried the handle, but it was locked. “Can I come in?”
“No,” she said tearfully. “No one can see me like this.”
“Blair, come on, it’s me. I won’t judge you. What’s going on?” I said.
There was a pause, and then she spoke again, her voice muffled with tears. “I’m coming out.”
I moved away from the door to give her space to exit the bathroom, and as she stepped out, I had to hold in a gasp.
“See?” she said, gauging my reaction anyway.
Her chestnut brown hair was streaked with messy platinum blonde chunks, and her eyes were red from the tears which were gathering in them.
“Oh my god, what happened?” I asked.
She sniffed. “I was getting ready for the party,” she said, gesturing down to her gown and heels. “And before I got dressed, I put some mousse in my hair. You know that stuff I have that gives me extra volume?”
I nodded. Blair’s hair had always been quite fine, and she often put products in it to make it look a bit thicker and more vibrant.
“I used that. Then I got dressed—it took me like fifteen minutes just to wrangle the stupid dress zip. And just then, I went back into the bathroom for a last minute makeup touchup, and I saw this.”
I put an arm around her and rubbed her back. “Don’t worry, we’re going to fix this. It’ll all be fine,” I promised. Then I stepped into her bathroom and grabbed the shiny purple bottle of mousse. “Is this the stuff you used?” I asked.
She nodded, and I opened it and took a quick whiff. “Smells like peroxide. I think someone sneaked into your bathroom and replaced the mousse with it.”
Her eyes widened. “But why? Why bleach my hair?”
“To screw with you,” I said, my voic
e laced with anger. “We’ve had situations like this before, with contestants trying to sabotage others.”
“Well, it’s working. I can’t even go to the party now, which means I’ll barely be in the first episode at all.”
“We’ll sort that out later,” I said. “For now, I want you to stick your head in the sink and rinse out any of the product that’s still in there. If you leave it in, it’ll eventually just fry your hair right off.”
“Okay. But what the hell do I do after that?” she said, sticking her head in the sink with the tap running.
“Don’t worry about it for now. Just rinse your hair, and I’ll figure out how to—”
“Everything okay in here?”
A familiar masculine voice echoed through the room, cutting me off, and I turned to see Troy standing in the doorway. “I left the party to take a leak and heard what sounded like someone screaming or crying,” he added to explain his presence.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Go back to the party; I’ll sort this out.”
As I spoke, Blair turned the tap off and came out of the bathroom, rubbing her hair with a towel, and Troy’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit…Blair Gilbert? I thought you looked familiar in the lineup last night.”
She gave him a tight, polite smile. “Yeah, it’s me. Hi, Troy.”
“How have you been?” he asked. “Still making that jewelry stuff you used to make back in the day?”
Blair nodded, and I could tell she was surprised that someone like Troy had remembered her hobby from so long ago. “Um…yeah, I’ve actually started my own online store for it. I’m based in L.A.”
“That’s great. I—”
“Troy, you really don’t need to be here,” I said, cutting in. “Sorry, but we’re dealing with a bit of a situation.”
He nodded slowly. “Well, I actually came in here to see if I could help out in any way.”
My face softened a little, and I looked at Blair, who had the same expression as me. “Someone sabotaged my hair products,” she explained with a heavy sigh, pulling the towel away from her head. “And now I look like a skunk. So no, I don’t think you can help, but thanks for the offer, I guess.”
Troy’s eyes widened. “Fuck. Who would do that? One of the other women?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’d say so. We’ve dealt with this kinda stuff in past seasons. And just half an hour ago, someone also cut up a dress belonging to another contestant, so it looks like we have a real nasty girl on our hands this season,” I said, pulling out my walkie-talkie radio. “I’m going to ask hair and makeup to come and dye the bleached parts back to their usual color and use an oil mask to help with any damage the bleach might’ve caused.”
Blair nodded, but her expression had turned downcast again. “That’ll fix it….but it will take ages,” she said. “And I’ll miss the cocktail party. I mean, I’m already missing it as we speak.”
Before I could say anything, Troy spoke up. “I have an idea for a temporary fix,” he replied. “Then you don’t have to miss the party, and you can get your hair dyed afterwards.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Got any brown mascara?”
Blair and I both gave him incredulous looks, and he grinned. “What, a man isn’t allowed to know what mascara is?” he said. “Look, it’s something my publicist does sometimes. She’s got naturally black hair, but she’s started to get a few greys that she doesn’t like, and in between hair appointments, she’ll streak a little bit of mascara over the greys to cover them up. You’ve got brown hair, so brown mascara would probably work.”
I nodded slowly, and Troy continued. “I mean, mascara is designed for hair, right? Eyelash hairs, but still….it’s all hair. So it should be safe to stick on your head for now. Might make your hair a bit stiff, but whatever. It’s only for a few hours.”
Blair nodded and scurried back into the bathroom to retrieve her makeup case and a hairdryer. “Here,” she said, pulling out a tube of mascara. “Might as well give it a shot, I guess.”
I left Troy to help her while I spoke to the hair and makeup department over the two-way radio, and by the time I was done sorting out a late night hair fix for Blair after the party, Troy had already covered up most of the obvious platinum spots with the mascara wand. “See?” he said, waving it triumphantly. “It looks fine. Now we can head to the party, and you’ll get the same screen time as all the others.”
He winked at me, and I gave him a small smile. He’d just done a really decent thing for my friend; something that most guys wouldn’t have done. Hell, most guys wouldn’t have even come upstairs when they heard crying, but he’d dropped the party just to come up here and make sure everyone was okay.
Maybe I’d misjudged him when I thought he was still the same douche that he’d been when he left me without a word. Maybe he’d actually grown a heart in the last seven years, and maybe—just maybe—there was a decent guy hiding somewhere underneath all that muscle and expensive fabric.
I guess sooner or later, I’d find out.
Chapter Seven
Troy
Fabian smiled smugly at the camera and began his rehearsed lines as all the contestants and I stood in the courtyard, all dressed up again. The tux I had on was itchy as hell, and I couldn’t wait to get out of it. Judging by the looks on some of the girls’ faces, they couldn’t wait to get out of their six inch heels either.
“Welcome to our first elimination ceremony. Seeing as it’s our first one, Troy will have to send eight women home. Tonight, there will be tears, heartbreak, and regret for those eight contestants…but for the other sixteen, they will be one step closer to finding true love with this season’s Stud.”
Fabian turned and gestured to me before looking back at the camera. “As you know, each contestant is given an empty charm bracelet in the first episode. Those who our Stud finds the most charming will receive a charm to add to their bracelets tonight. Those who don’t have enough charm will find theirs empty, and they must say their goodbyes and pack their things.”
I almost rolled my eyes at that. How many lame ‘charm’ puns could they seriously fit in one speech?
I’d had a whole week since my arrival to prepare for this ceremony. After the cocktail party, where I’d had a chance to speak to all of the contestants one-on-one, there had been two other big group activities, designed to get me to hang out with the women whose company I’d enjoyed the most at the party, while still allowing the stragglers a chance to talk to me again.
Now it was time to cut eight of them, and I had to say, I was starting to feel like shit about it. I’d initially thought that it’d be easy, and leading these women on didn’t matter because they were all doing the same to me. But now I felt guilty; some of the women already had tears in their eyes at the thought of possibly being sent home. Maybe they were just crocodile tears, or maybe they were real tears borne of frustration from not being given more of a chance to get attention, but there was always a chance they were genuine tears of sadness. What if some of the women who came here actually really did want to find love? I hadn’t even considered that when I made the decision to come on the show; I’d been so hell-bent on seeing Eden again that I’d lumped all the contestants into the same ‘attention seeker’ category and didn’t feel a shred of guilt about doing so.
Fuck, maybe I really was an asshole. No wonder Eden hated me—she’d probably seen my true colors years ago and realized what a dick I’d likely become later in life, and that was why she’d dumped me.
Upon Fabian’s prompting, I finally picked fifteen women who’d seemed the most down-to-earth and honest to give charms to, and soon there was only one charm left to give. Blair Gilbert was one of the remaining nine who hadn’t received a charm, and she looked very anxious. There was no way I was going to eliminate her, though. She was Eden’s friend, and if I wanted to get Eden on my side again, then a good way to do that would be to keep Blair around as a contestant.
“There’s just one more charm
for Troy to hand out,” Fabian said, flashing a serious look at the cameras. “Who will it be? Find out after the break…”
We stopped filming for a few minutes so that some people from the makeup department could come in and quickly give everyone touchups—standing out here for hours made us all look pretty sweaty and shiny—and then Glenn called for action again.
“Welcome back to The Stud,” Fabian said with his trademark toothy grin aimed right at the camera. “If you’ve only just tuned in, tonight is our first elimination ceremony, and fifteen charms have already been given out. That leaves us with just one charm and nine women….so who will the lucky lady be?”
I flashed a big fake smile at the camera too, and then I stepped forward to Blair. “Blair, I’d really love it if you’d stay,” I said loudly enough for my mic to pick up.
Her tense shoulders slumped with relief, and she smiled and mouthed the word ‘thank you’ to me as she hugged me.
“What, you didn’t really think I was gonna let you go, did you?” I said in a teasing voice, covering my mic as she broke away a second later. “Don’t worry, you’ll be sticking around for the long haul.”
“Thanks, Troy,” she said again. We could both see Eden from where we were standing, and Blair gave her a thumbs up. Eden smiled back at her, but before she could even look at me, an intern on the show took her attention away by asking her something.
The eight women who I hadn’t picked quietly went back to their rooms to pack, except one, who started having a complete meltdown, screaming about how she’d placed a lot of money on a bet that she could go all the way to the top four. Glenn looked exuberant; this tantrum was going to make excellent viewing for all the drama addicts out there.
Filming wasn’t over for the night, though, not by a long shot. The sixteen remaining contestants were meant to join me for a dinner party in the courtyard, and Glenn gave us all half an hour to get changed and ready (god forbid anyone ever wore the same outfit twice in the same episode). By the time we got back to the courtyard, I was fucking starving, and I was glad to see that the catering staff had laid out a massive spread of food on the long table which had been set up.
Daddy's Fake Bride (A Fake Marriage Romance) Page 49
