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Entering this competition was just another way of acting out, I think. My subconscious mind just got fed up with Peter, with my boss, with my mom. With me, not taking action and never taking myself seriously.
I think about that for a long time, through the makeup room and the on-again, off-again schedule of interviews for sound bites. The thought stays with me as I smile for promotional photos with the other contestants and the pep talk we get from somebody named Greeley later in the afternoon.
If Drew and Cooper can treat me with that kind of recognition and respect, why can’t I treat myself the same way? What does that say about me? Besides the fact that I’ve clearly never done it before, I’m not sure.
It’s time to change that. No more settling. No more bowing in the face of something I want. No more Trademarked Crazy Bailey. From now on, I’m in charge around here. Even if it’s only over my own life.
Before I can chicken out, I tap out an email to my boss informing him that I’ll need to change my hours at work when I return next week. I’ll need more time to get that catering business off the ground, and if he doesn’t like it, well… so be it.
It’s time to get to work.
I’m the first one back to the suite after the contestants get dismissed for the day, and I take the opportunity to shower as long as possible. Which is about how long it takes to scrub off the many layers of makeup I’ve been wearing for the last ten hours or so. I could go back down and party it up with the rest of the contestants and the staff members down in one of the resort lounges, but the risk of running into Tracy Elffers again is more than I care to deal with. Besides, Drew and Cooper will be back soon.
Instead I crack open the champagne somebody thoughtfully left in our full-size refrigerator and pour a glass, settling down to wait.
20
Drew
“Back when I worked with WPNG, they managed a better spread than this.” Tracy Elffers sneers at the coffee in her hand, then redirects her disgust to the caterers’ table at large. “Boutique service, you know. Such a wonderful station.”
“I’m sure they’d be glad to have you back,” I say innocently. Tracy’s glare is so furious, I fight the urge to check my face for singe marks. She knows damn well WPGN went under years ago, but she’s not sure if I know that, so the snark goes unmentioned.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me today. It’s been one for the record books—busy as hell, with me acting as Ty’s gopher more than I have in years. Since I’m really just here as support, not a major part of the crew, I’m helping wherever I can. Turns out today “wherever I can” is all over this damned hotel.
I wouldn’t mind, except my brain has been somewhere else for most of the day. Thank God other people are in charge today, because otherwise this show would be falling apart. Last night was…
I swallow hard, refocusing on the room, casting about for something, anything, to distract me from my thoughts. Last time I got caught up thinking about last night, I managed to spill coffee in exactly the wrong place, shorting out a power strip that led to something important in one of the interview rooms. That was over an hour ago and though I apologized to the crew profusely, I’m still expecting to hear about it from Ty.
Tracy continues her litany of complaints for her audience, currently consisting of a group of interns and one of the younger competitors who apparently mistook “drama” for “celebrity” last night and became a Tracy fan. I leave them to it, scanning the room for my boss, immediately bumping into somebody. Not the first time today that’s happened, either. At least there are no drinks involved this time.
“Sorry, sorry—” I start apologizing long before I figure out who I’ve hit this time.
“Not a problem,” says Cooper, straightening his shirt and smirking at my dumbfounded expression. “You can plow into me anytime.”
My face goes lava hot. “Cooper.”
He laughs, not bothering to keep his voice down.
“Relax, Hicks,” he says, patting my cheek. I don’t think it’s my imagination that he lingers, far longer than he should in a room full of our colleagues. “Nobody’s paying a bit of attention to us.”
“Hicks!”
The call comes from a corner off to my right. Cooper grins and shrugs when I shake my head at him.
“Duty calls,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
“Right.” Punk ass sonova—
“Hicks! Get your ass over here.” It’s Ty, and that tone means I don’t have time to fuck around.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I say, keeping my voice low. Cooper’s laugh disappears into the crowd as he wanders off.
You can plow into me anytime you want.
He can’t possibly mean what I think he meant. I mean, you don’t just say that to a guy if you don’t mean it. Right? Especially not one you’ve slept with—and I don’t mean sleep in the literal sense. Sure, we’ve fooled around a couple of times. That’s not the same as… what I think he meant.
It takes all of fifteen seconds for me to get across the crowded hall to the door Ty’s holding open for me, but fifteen seconds is all it takes for my face to return to boiling hot.
