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His breath is warm near my ear. “Did you really not know about the live audience? Simone was telling me about her plans to come to every live shooting. She said she discussed it with you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as he leads me to a door. We’re inside the farmhouse, in one of the ground-floor rooms repurposed for filming one-on-one interviews. I take a deep breath. “You know the adults in Charlie Brown?”
Fallon hums. “Yeah. What about them?”
“Well, any time someone mentioned this competition, that’s all I heard. Just ‘wah wa wa wah wahh wa wa.’”
Fallon stops, his arm tightening around my shoulders as he pulls me close and ducks his face into my neck to muffle his laugh. His other arm comes to wrap around me as his chin lifts, eyes twinkling as he meets my gaze. “The worst part is, I know you’re telling the truth.”
I frown. “Why is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not.” His eyes are warm, and the corners crinkle as he smiles. “You only ever speak the truth. No white lies, no pleasantries, no polite conversation just for the sake of small talk.”
“Small talk is pointless and a waste of time.”
His smile widens. “I rest my case.”
As I open my mouth to answer, Fallon just tugs me toward a door, and we end up in a large lounge room filled with comfortable chairs. All the contestants I met earlier are chatting excitedly, including a few new faces. Fourteen people that will all expect me to interact like a normal human being.
Would they look at me weird if I ran away screaming?
Two women, both dressed in what I can only describe as matching Daisy Duke outfits—complete with big hair, cowboy boots, cutoff jeans, and shirts tied off at the waist—jump up from their chairs and come rushing toward me. “How was it?” one of them asks, then sticks her hand out toward me. “I’m Nikki.”
“Jen,” I answer. “It was fine.”
“More than fine,” Fallon cuts in. “They said Jen was a natural.”
Does he sound…proud?
Daisy Duke number two tilts her head. “Do you do television often?”
Ha! I cover a self-deprecating laugh with an awkward clearing of my throat. “Uh…no.”
“Oh.” She titters, then introduces herself as Sonia. “I’m so nervous I could puke.”
“Just don’t do it on camera,” I say, and everyone laughs, as if they think I’m joking.
Fallon’s arm tightens around my shoulders, and when I glance at him, I can tell he’s fighting a smile.
He does that a lot around me.
Fallon leads me to a seat and asks me if I want any food from the buffet tables, but I just shake my head. I can’t eat right now. Not until we get the first event out of the way.
But Fallon still comes to sit next to me with a plate piled high with all kinds of food that he holds in one hand, shifting it over to me every few minutes until I pick off a few carrot sticks, a piece of pita with hummus, and a few other bites of what’s offered. Before I know it, the showrunners are calling for us to move to the barn, and I’ve somehow eaten enough to settle my stomach and my nerves. Fallon just winks at me, then puts the empty plate in a bin of dishes.
Sneaky bugger. He fed me without me even realizing.
The barn has been kitted out with eight baking stations, all facing the front of the room. When we enter, I notice the mezzanine level, which surrounds the entire baking space and has been filled with long wooden benches. There’s enough space for a hundred or more people to watch. I gulp, following the directions to stand behind one of the stations.
Fallon’s hand brushes the small of my back. “You okay?”
“I still can’t believe I agreed to do this,” I tell him.
He grins. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad your partner broke her legs.”
“That’s an awful thing to say.”
“At least it’s not small talk,” Fallon says quietly, his hand warm against my spine.
