Page 20 of One to Watch

Bob laughed. “America makes all kinds of bad decisions—there’s no accounting for taste. But no, I think they’ll love you just as much as we do.”

“All the way up the beanstalk?”

“And all the way home, my magic Bean. You’re gonna knock ’em dead.”

As filming drew nearer, the demands on Bea’s time grew increasingly intense: prep work with a PR specialist to craft talking points for her impending media blitz, practice sessions with a media consultant to perfect the delivery of said talking points, endless test shots with wardrobe and makeup and lighting and camera, and network photo shoots that should have been fun but were mostly just exhausting.

“Can you smile a little bigger?” Lauren urged. “You know, like you’re about to find love?”

Bea did her best to look overjoyed, but from Lauren’s mutterings about “making her look happy in post,” Bea guessed she hadn’t quite hit the mark.

There was one part Bea loved, though—the time she spent in wardrobe with her favorite person on the Main Squeeze crew: a no-nonsense tyrant named Alison who looked like a mild-mannered English major who sold hand-knit scarves on Etsy but who ran her department with the efficiency of an elite counterterrorism unit.

Bea had been nervous that her stylist for the show would be some typical Hollywood waif without the first clue how to dress a body like Bea’s, but Alison was a surprise in the best possible way: She was absolutely stunning, with sea-green eyes and honeyed hair, her style was gorgeous and muted with soft textures and earthy tones. And she was a good few sizes larger than Bea. The two women burst out laughing and shared a tight hug the very first time they met.

“Bea!” Alison laughed with delight. “I’m so happy to meet you!”

“Oh my God.” Bea nearly cried with relief. “I’m so happy to meet you.”

“Not as happy as you’re going to be when you see the clothes I pulled.” Alison grinned. “I’ve read your blog for years; do you know how excited I am to dress someone who actually understands fashion? Who might be willing to wear, you know, pants?! I have such great stuff for you!”

It turned out Alison had already reached out to nearly every high-fashion house that made plus-size clothes to send everything they had in Bea’s size—Derek Lam dresses and Prabal Gurung slacks and Veronica Beard blazers that retailed for more than Bea’s rent.

“Holy shit,” Bea said, trailing her fingers along the racks of spectacular garments, unable to fathom that they could really all be for her.

“I know you love a bold print, but we can’t do too much pattern on camera, I hope you understand,” Alison explained as Bea picked up a Yigal Azrouël blouse detailed with pleated hammered satin.

“Of course,” Bea murmured, noting that the blouse perfectly matched a blush pencil skirt in laminated lace. Was this heaven? Was she dead?

“We tend to do a lot of sparkle for cocktail parties,” Alison went on, “but I refuse to make you look like a disco ball, so I’m embellishing a lot of things myself.” She showed Bea a Dima Ayad maxi she’d hand-embroidered along the bust with lace appliqués.

“This is so beautiful,” Bea gushed. “I’m getting ’90s Thierry Mugler vibes.”

“That’s exactly what I was going for! I want to do so much boudoir for you, too, really hit the nail on the head that you see yourself as sexy, and you want America to see you that way too.”

“And when the show is over …” Bea could barely bring herself to ask the question.

Alison grinned. “You get to keep everything.”

Spending so much time with Alison, trying on so many wonderful things and feeling more beautiful than she ever had, Bea could almost believe her press rollout—now just one week away—would be as smooth as the buttery Lafayette 148 white leather moto jacket Bea wanted to wear every day forever.

Usually, the star of Main Squeeze was announced well in advance of filming, and the suitors auditioning for a chance to be her husband knew full well who they were competing for. But this year, everything was different: Not only did Bea’s suitors not know who she was, Lauren was sequestering them and putting them on total media blackout for the final five days before filming began—the five days when Bea’s role as the next Main Squeeze would finally be made public. Meaning that the very first time Bea and her men would lay eyes on one another would be on the live season premiere of the show.

“Don’t you think that’s a little risky?” Bea asked Lauren, anxiety crackling at the edges of her already frayed nerves.

“We want them to go in with a clean slate—with open minds,” Lauren explained. They were doing a walk-through of Bea’s soon-to-be bedroom at the Main Squeeze Mansion, a garish affair overlooking the Malibu coastline. Bea detested the plasticized knockoff Pier 1 furniture, but she couldn’t deny that the view of the Pacific was stunning. She tried to imagine how it would feel to stand with a man and gaze out at the horizon, to kiss him as the waves rolled in, feel his hands at the small of her back. Try as she might, she couldn’t picture anyone but Ray.

“The thing is”—Lauren’s voice sliced through the daydream—“we’re anticipating some mixed press, and we don’t want that to poison the well with your suitors. Of course, we think the balance will be overwhelmingly positive, but there’s bound to be some, you know. Controversy.”

“Which is part of why you cast me. Controversy breeds publicity.”

“Our ratings are going to be enormous.” Lauren gave Bea a sly smile. “But I don’t want you to get too in your head about what people are going to say about you—let them talk. You can laugh all the way to the bank.”

“Totally,” Bea agreed with more conviction than she actually felt. “Besides, it’s not like they’ll be saying anything I haven’t heard a thousand times before.”

Lauren gave Bea a sympathetic nod. “Listen, I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure this rollout goes as well for you as it possibly can. We’re going to give People the exclusive—you’ll be on the cover—so that will be a great outlet for you, they’ll post the story online first thing Wednesday. You’ll go straight to Good Morning, USA! for your first live interview, and then we’ll have you booked back-to-back for three days solid before we go to ground to prep for the premiere. It’s going to be grueling, but then, so will our two months of filming. You can handle it, right?”

“Of course.” Bea met Lauren’s eye. “That’s what you’re paying me for.”