The Billionaire’s Bun In Her Oven - Ellie Rowe Page 0,59
your garnish, better luck next time for the dish.”
He pulls a face to the camera he knows the audience will adore. I should be feeling pretty fucking wonderful right now, but something doesn’t feel right. Nadia just got her shit wrecked. She was torn apart on live television and there’s no editing fix to save her.
So why does she look so fucking confident? Whatever she has planned, it can’t be good.
Forty-Four
Stephen
“Annnnd that’s a pause for commercial!” calls out the stage manager. “Two minutes and thirty seconds until we are back live, people!”
A buzzer goes off. The crew that was deadly silent and still as statues a moment ago suddenly leaps into efficient action. The dining room buzzes with the murmur of professionals at work and equipment being re-positioned.
Not for the first time since shooting began, I take a moment to congratulate myself on this plan. Everything is going great. I’d almost say it’s better than I could have hoped for, but I don’t want to jinx it.
During the last commercial break, Chase showed me his phone. The live broadcast is all the buzz on social media, with several celebrities and influencers live commenting. #Redemption4Cynthia is even trending!
Paulie also mentions some people are messaging him that they ‘stan’ me and Cynthia, but I have no idea what that means.
“It’s good. I stan you two, too,” he told me. I shrugged and took his word for it.
Now, I take advantage of the break to check in with Cynthia. I sidle through the organized chaos happening around us to stand beside her. A make-up girl powders Cynthia’s face.
“Betty, give us a minute?” I ask her.
“Gotta make sure my girl isn’t shiny,” Betty says.
“I just need to talk to her a moment. Show stuff.”
“OK.”
“But… like, private show stuff.”
Betty looks at me out of the corner of her eye as she continues to powder Cynthia. “You know the make-up department can keep a secret.”
“I know you all think you can.” Before Betty can protest, I say, “I’m sure Nadia needs a touch-up.”
Betty blows air through her lips. “When doesn’t she?” She gives Cynthia one last dab, then moves away, informing her, “You couldn’t look anything less than gorgeous even if you tried!”
“I agree,” I say, once Betty’s out of earshot.
Cynthia takes a deep breath and lets it out. I discreetly put a hand on her back and give her a reassuring rub. “You’re doing great,” I tell her.
“Thanks. I feel good.”
“Then why do you look so worried? C’mon, relax a little. The plan’s working.”
“That’s why I’m worried.”
“I never pegged you for a pessimist.”
“It’s not that.” Cynthia looks around for a moment, then leans her head close and murmurs, “Nadia is up to something.”
“I’m sure she’d like to be. But what can she possibly do? Anything she tries to pull will be seen and broadcast all over the world. She’s live on camera every second.”
“Not every second.” Cynthia indicates with her head. I look and see Nadia hurrying off-set. Her tall stiletto heels and tight dress force her to sort-of scuttle along like a hasty crab. She keeps looking about as she goes. Wherever she’s scampering to, it does seem suspicious.
“Told you she’s up to something,” Cynthia says. “I’ll be right back.”
Before I can counsel her against it, Cynthia slips off through the bustling crew, tailing Nadia like a private investigator.
“Ninety seconds, people!” the stage manager calls out. “Ninety seconds till we are back live!”
The crew starts putting the finishing touches on their next set-up. Amid the hurrying bodies, I spot Chase and Paulie. They’re standing together, shoulders touching, heads leaned toward one another as they giggle over something on Chase’s phone. They’re a cute couple. Chase’s doughy country persona is complemented by Paulie’s metropolitan chicness. Consequently, I’ve given the sous-chef a nickname to match my Number Two’s.
“City Mouse! Country Mouse!” I call across the room.
Chase and Paulie hurry over to me. “Sentiment is definitely shifting, boss,” Chase tells me.
Paulie points to the phone. “Nada4Nadia is now trending, as well.”
“I don’t think we can count her out yet,” I warn them.
“Please,” Paulie interjects. “The bitch is basic, and the world is seeing it live and in living color.”
“Let’s at least try and hedge our bets. I need you two to do me a favor.”
We huddle up. I glance around to make sure no prying crew members are lurking nearby. Thankfully, everyone is still absorbed with finalizing the set-up before we’re back on the air.
“What do you need us to do?” Chase asks.
“I love all this intrigue,”