The Billionaire’s Bun In Her Oven - Ellie Rowe Page 0,23

light. But as I slowly push open the door, I hear the beginning of his conversation.

“No, I told you I’m free, just tell me what the fuck this is about... I’m not angry. No. Do you want me to be angry? Great, then get the fuck on with it,” he pauses as he listens, twirling one of the locks of his hair in his fingertips.

“Ah. Well. It seems like it’s a go, if that’s what you’re asking. Yeah. She’s got a lot of fire, perfect for the show, right?”

Is he talking about me? A secret joy bubbles up my gut, until I realize he could very well be talking about Nadia. Is this going to be my life?

“Oh, not now, no. What do you mean? I just can’t right now. Oh, I’m just…” Stephen looks around the place, clearly trying to come up with a lie. “I’m just out. Scouting some places. Yeah, I know it’s late, but the city never sleeps, right?”

Why is he lying? I wonder. But then it hits me.

“No, no, I left ages ago, just had a quick bite and got the okay, said we’d sign paperwork another time.”

He’s trying to cover for him and for me. Stephen finally hangs up and sighs, pocketing his phone gruffly.

“Hey,” I say, alerting him of my presence. He’s not jumpy or anything, but he’s definitely a little troubled. Stephen turns and grins when he sees me.

“Sorry about that. Find anything interesting back there? I know for a fact you’ve got some kind of melted chocolate —”

“Listen, Stephen, I don’t think we should do this.” Stephen’s smile drops and he looks at me with concern. “I just… with the show and everything… I mean it’s like you said. This place means everything to me.”

“And if we don’t keep this professional, I mean, if someone finds out, we’ll be in huge trouble. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. If we’re caught, whatever help you’re offering will be moot.”

Stephen looks stunned. But, eventually, he nods.

“You’re probably right.” He looks down at his hands for a second before he makes eye contact again, his TV smile in place. “We’ll keep it professional.”

Eighteen

Stephen

“I’d like to try that again, please, Kenny,” Nadia says. Her words are polite, but her tone is insistent.

I steal a glance at Kenny. He manages not to roll his eyes at this latest interruption from my co-host. “I don’t know, I think we got it,” he says.

“I just think I can do it better.” Nadia now adds a pout that’s so forced, it’s embarrassing.

This is the third time in five minutes that Nadia’s stopped the shoot to re-tape something. She and I are standing at the entrance of Origin where we’re filming what’s meant to be our first encounter with Cynthia.

It’s the morning of the first day of shooting, and we’re already running behind schedule. Between the amount of time Nadia took in makeup to make her look just so, and now her constant starting and stopping, filming an episode of this show is going to take a month.

Rather than put up a fight this early in the game, Kenny tells everyone to reset. Again.

I catch Cynthia narrowing her eyes at Nadia. I wonder how long ‘til this whole thing goes nuclear?

As I set up with Nadia outside Origin, preparing, for the fourth time, to walk into Origin for the ‘first time’, I mention, “Y’know, it’s supposed to be reality TV. It’s not meant to be polished or rehearsed.”

“I just want to give you the best show possible,” she says, placing a hand on my chest and looking up at me through her impossibly long, heavily mascaraed eyelashes. Seriously, it’s a wonder their weight doesn’t force her head into a permanent droop.

“The best show, in my opinion,” I say, removing her hand, “is one that’s spontaneous.”

“I’ll get it this time,” she assures me.

“Action!” Kenny calls.

I hold the door open, then walk in behind Nadia. Cynthia greets us – again – with a huge smile and a handshake. “Welcome to Origin. I’m so –”

“I’m having flashbacks!” Nadia cries out dramatically, interrupting Cynthia. “The Night of a Thousand Rats. We’re in the very place I thought I would be nibbled to death from the toes on up,” she laughs.

Cynthia steams. I stare helplessly.

It’s going to be a long shoot.

An hour later, Cynthia is trying to give us a tour of the dining room, but she can barely get her words out before Nadia lobs criticism after criticism at her.

“That’s where you