‘What?’ I asked.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Reflex. Every time I swear, someone pops out of the woodwork to yell, “Cut,” and give me a lecture. This is the only place it doesn’t happen.’
‘I’m glad that my complete and total inability to function with camerapeople in the room has provided this safe space for you.’
‘One,’ he said, holding up a finger, ‘still not going to insult you, Cece. You can’t make me.’
‘Oh, come on,’ I protested. ‘You can’t deny that’s true.’
‘Two,’ he continued, ignoring me and holding up a second finger, ‘it actually is very nice to be able to talk without a million people around. It’s refreshing to be able to have a conversation that flows, instead of Murray pulling me out every five seconds to be all, “Aha, I see you have said three sentences to Dylan G. Now, dissect in detail how you feel about her.”’
‘How do you feel about her?’
‘Positive,’ he said. ‘Dyl’s cool. I like her a lot.’
That stung a little, even though it shouldn’t.
‘So she’s not on the chopping block tonight?’ I said, pressing through it.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I have a very good idea of who I want to keep. I just don’t know who I want to cut.’
We talked for about half an hour more, turning over his options, before another PA tapped at the French doors and told him it was time to leave for the Last Chance Party.
‘Full disclosure, some of that was lies,’ he said, when I walked him out. ‘I know exactly who I want to get rid of. I just can’t.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘Who?’
‘You can’t guess?’ he said. ‘Lily. Obviously. She’s terrorising everyone. Including me. I’m terrified of her. The only person who isn’t is Murray, and even that’s only true half the time.’
‘Aren’t you all about tough women who don’t back down from challenges?’
‘Oh, ha ha,’ he said. ‘I didn’t say tough women who run directly at challenges and bulldoze them down along with everything else in their path, did I?’
He tapped his fingers against the railing. ‘But I can’t get rid of her. Murray won’t let me. He says she’s ratings gold, and if I don’t keep her until at least episode eight, he’ll murder me in my sleep.’
‘Dylan!’ the PA called. They were sitting in the driver’s seat of a golf cart, parked about fifteen metres away on the grass. ‘Come on!’
‘Coming!’ he called back, rolling his shirtsleeves down, before turning back to me. ‘Help me with my cufflinks?’
‘Sure.’
He handed them to me. ‘These are cute,’ I said, holding them up to the light so I could study them. ‘Little broken hearts!’
‘Are they?’ he said, holding his wrists out. ‘They’d already taken my glasses away when they gave them to me, and I hadn’t put my contacts in yet.’
I fastened the first cufflink. ‘I didn’t know you wore glasses.’
‘Most of the time, ordinarily. But apparently they read as too nerdy for the show.’
My fingers brushed the skin of his wrist. He flinched. ‘Sorry,’ he said, an embarrassed smile crossing his face. ‘Ticklish.’
The closer you got to that smile, the more powerful it became. It was like putting your face next to a radiator.
‘Murray’s right,’ I said, focusing intently on the second cufflink and hoping that I wasn’t blushing. ‘About Lily being ratings gold, I mean. People are going to love to hate her, and you need those ratings to get all of your messages out there.’
‘Excuse me,weneed ratings, Ms Future Queen of Instagram,’ he said, poking me gently in the shoulder with his free hand. ‘What’s good for me and my charity will be great for you and your socials.’
Whatever show Murray ended up putting me on, whether it beWherefore Art Thou Romeo?orJuliet on the Beach, I hoped they started shooting it straight afterMarry Me, Juliet. I clearly needed some action, because I should not have been able to feel that poke in my ovaries.
