Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 41935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
My nausea returns as I imagine my parents watching Celebrity Love Malibu and finding out a contestant has been sticking it in their daughter.
“Are you okay to go back to the house?” Farrah asks.
I press myself up to a sitting position with my hand. “Yeah, I think so.”
“We’ll walk slowly.” She stands and brushes the sand from her clothes. “Also, you’ll need to wear gloves and a mask when you make my breakfast.”
The spark between Misty and Dom has taken Alex’s attention, which is an unexpected windfall. The camera operators have been taking shifts waiting outside both Misty and Dom’s rooms, catching them leaving after their interludes.
And from what I’m hearing, it’s not just in the mornings. Those two also like to have a go at it during the day if they can get away with it.
Good for Misty. She deserves to have a man completely wrapped up in her.
If I could get her alone, I might talk to her about my dilemma. I sense I can trust her. There’s not a chance, though. Dom is always there, his arm slung around her possessively.
“Hey, can I help out with that?” I ask one of the kitchen assistants. “I’m not busy.”
She looks up, her brows arched with surprise. “You want to take the lunch orders?”
I nod, desperate for an excuse to talk to Dalton. “Yep, no problem at all. Just the rest of the people on that list?”
She passes me the notepad and pen. “Yeah, that’d be great. Bring it to me in the kitchen once you’ve gotten everyone.”
“You got it.”
I track down everyone other than Dalton first, getting their sandwich and side orders. My nausea is much better, but it’s still a low-grade, constant presence.
If Farrah confronts me in front of other people, what will I say? Will I defend myself or burst into anxious tears? What if she does it on camera? And worst of all, what if it makes it onto the show?
The word fuck plays on repeat in the back of my mind, my soundtrack for today. I imagine it being the main word in popular tunes like “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” and “Happy Birthday.”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck to you...fuck fuck fuck fuck to you....
“Dalton!” I find him on one of the patios talking to Ben, one of the production assistants. “Do you have a minute for me to get your lunch order?”
“Yeah, of course.” He nods at Ben. “I’ll catch you later, man.”
“Hey, so I just need to find out what you want for lunch.” I hold the pen over the pad like I’m about to write it down as we walk.
Once we’re alone at the far end of the patio, he says, “Do you know how hard it is not to kiss you right now?”
I keep my expression placid. “Farrah checked your room last night and this morning. She knows you’re sleeping with someone.”
“Damn, psycho much?”
“We can’t do this anymore.”
His expression snaps from carefree to serious. “What? No. She doesn’t know it’s you.”
“Yeah, and she wants me to help her spy on you so she can figure it out. Should I tell her I have a conflict from ten p.m. to four a.m.?”
He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. I write “ham and Swiss on wheat” on the notepad, so it looks like I’m doing what I’m supposed to.
“Babe, this isn’t a big deal. We’ll figure it out. You haven’t had a good night of sleep in a while, so everything feels more magnified than it is.”
He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t have anything on the line here, and I have everything on the line.
“Don’t come to my room tonight.”
“You’re serious.”
“Yes!” I write “fruit” on the notepad. “You know I can’t lose my job.”
“Hey...” His expression softens. “I’ve got you. If you need money--”
“No.”
He doesn’t get it. I can’t risk my dad losing his therapies. My mom losing her housecleaning and caregiving help. The word of a man I’ve been secretly sleeping with for less than a week isn’t enough to make me risk those things.
“Please respect what I’m asking.” I give him a final pleading look before walking away.
sixteen
Dalton
The screaming and laughing from the contestants in the pool is grating on my nerves. June could announce she’s taking her top off without belting it out to everyone within a mile radius.
Things are heating up on the show; people are hooking up. I’m relieved because the heat’s off me now. JP is going full throttle after Farrah, and I hope he gets what he wants.
I just don’t get why Alice and I can’t also get what we want. Instead of spending the evening in bed with her, I’m staring at the rotation of the ceiling fan in my bedroom, fighting my urge to go to her room.
Farrah has put her in an impossible position, and I’m seeing red over it. Because Farrah is demanding, controlling, and out for herself only, Alice is afraid to be with me.