‘For one, it could be a straight shot to a spot onJuliet on the Beach,’ he said, producing a blanket that looked like a giant doily from one of his shopping bags and laying it across the top of the couch. ‘You can get a lot of opportunities from making out with the right himbo on a beach.’
I tried to put myself in that picture, making out with some hot boy in the sand. I could definitely manage that, couldn’t I?
‘But play your cards right,’ Murray said, ‘and fuckJuliet on the Beach. We could set you up to be the lead on the next season ofWherefore Art Thou Romeo?’
‘… What?’
‘It’s a compelling narrative,’ he said, smoothing the doily blanket out. ‘It’d be easy to advertise. This season, you’re the bridesmaid, the girl that’s always unlucky in love, always friend-zoned. But then you’d get your chance to be the bride.’
I was only half listening. I was too busy thinking abouta) how much I’d have to be on camera if I was the lead, but also b) how much money I’d make, and trying not to have another fainting spell.
‘But that all depends on a few things,’ Murray said, his voice turning stern. ‘One, you absolutely have to figure out how to be on camera without falling apart.’
I nodded, still feeling a bit light-headed.
‘Two,’ he said, ‘this is Dylan’s season. You can talk about yourself a little, build your own narrative, but he’s the star of the show. You’re here to talk about him, and his relationships and what’s happening up at the Villa.’
‘That won’t be a problem,’ I said.
Of all the things I’d told Murray wouldn’t be a problem, this was the first one I was one hundred per cent confident wasn’t a lie.
‘Three,’ he said, ‘you need to make it crystal clear that you and Dylan aren’t a match. Every chance you get, emphasise that it never would have worked, that he’s not what you’re looking for. Talk about how you never date athletes and you only date nerds, that sort of thing.’
That was not true – my ex Jordan had been a nerdy glasses-wearing tech boy, but I’d dated more than my fair share of jocks – but I nodded again. ‘I can do that.’
‘Are Rani and Samantha upstairs?’
‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘They’re still asleep, I think. They were up late.’
I refrained from adding,Because we still don’t have proper beds down here and they were complaining about how much their backs hurt from sleeping on the floor, but there was noway I was going to push it even the tiniest bit with Murray right now. I was not throwing away my shot. Not again.
‘Did you tell them that you were going to be doing this?’ Murray asked, tweaking the last cushion a few centimetres to the left.
‘Not yet.’
‘You thought you could keep it a secret?’ Murray said, exasperated. ‘Because you can’t, Cece. We’re going to have to keep this room totally clear while you two are filming. Dylan can have one friend, but if he starts making friends with every woman he eliminates – which he’ll absolutely try to do if gets the chance, the man’s like a fucking golden retriever – he’s going to come across as the nation’s most enormous fuckboy instead of its most eligible bachelor.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell them today. I just didn’t want to cause drama before I had to.’
There was a tap on the French doors, and Dylan stuck his head into the living room. ‘Morning, Cece,’ he said brightly. ‘Morning, Murray. Are we good to go?’
‘Yes,’ Murray said. ‘You clear on today’s brief?’
‘My single date with Jess D and why I picked her,’ Dylan parroted obediently.
‘Good,’ Murray said. ‘Let’s get this out of the way, then. You’ve got a big day today, Dylan. You need to be out of here by eight thirty so we can get you prepared for your date.’
‘You don’t need to worry,’ he said. ‘We’ll be good. Right, Cece?’
‘Um, sure.’
‘Off you go, then,’ Murray said, gathering up his emptygreen bags and slinging them over one shoulder. ‘I’m leaving. Sit down. Talk. Pretend to be friends.’
‘I don’t think we need to pretend,’ Dylan said.
Murray rolled his eyes. ‘I mean—’
‘We will give off absolutely no signs that we’re into each other,’ I interrupted. ‘Zero. None. Friend-zone only. I promise.’
