Chapter Five

Somehow I find myself sitting in a makeup chair, a man tsking over me as Christy and Joe explain the turn my life has taken.

"Don't frown so much," the makeup guys says. He's the last one left. At one point I'd had three people hovering around me, fixing my hair, my nails, my everything. It's enough to make a girl nervous. "The makeup settles in and gives you ghastly shadows."

"I don't think I should be doing this at all. I'm a production assistant," I point out. I like to play around with makeup when we go out to clubs and stuff, but I don't wear a lot of it in my normal life.

"You were a production assistant and now you're a contestant." Joe seems perfectly content now that he believes he's got girl number thirteen on the hook. "Tomorrow you can go right back to assisting. Think of yourself as a stand-in. This is going to be easy. I won't even make you do an introduction video. Normally there would be several hours spent getting a contestant's life story."

I know what he's talking about. It's what they'd been doing for weeks. Interviewing all the contestants. Not that most of the footage will reach the airwaves. Some of the contestants will get three minutes on air before they're cut.

"Hours for a few minutes of tape," Christy says with a shake of her head. "It's mind numbing. When are we getting back to real film?"

I agree with her, though movie shoots can also have take after take after take for that one perfect moment of film. "I don't know that it's ethical for me to take a contestant's spot. Maybe if I call her…"

Joe frowns. He's a handsome man in his early sixties. Despite his well-documented substance abuse problems, he looks healthy and fit, with salt and pepper hair and bushy eyebrows that seem to be a vehicle for his every emotion. Those brows are in a deep V now. "Absolutely not. She's dead to me. You, however, are very much alive, and I think you're going to be spectacular. And by spectacular I mean you'll blend in and no one will notice you until you're standing in the elimination room without a flower." He looks back at Christy. "Are we sure we have to go with the daisy? Roses look better on camera."

"His Majesty insists it must be oxeye daisies, and they have to come from Ralavia," Christy says as the makeup guy hovers over me with a massive eyelash in tweezers between his fingers. He studies me like a problem he needs to solve. "So now we have a couple thousand of them in cold storage. We need to use the daisies."

Joe shrugs, obviously giving in. "The guy's been more than easy to work with, so I'll give on the flowers. Anyway, you'll be standing there without a flower, and I'll need you to look heartbroken. Can you do that for me, Anika?"

I'm pretty sure the only expression I'm going to be able to muster is deer in the headlights. Makeup guy zeroes in, placing the giant lash on my eye. I swear I can see the thing when I blink. I'm a little worried I might be able to fly with it. "What about the ethical aspect of this situation? You know that I signed an agreement that as an employee of Pinnacle Entertainment, I'm not allowed to try out for any of our reality or game shows."

"You didn't try out," Joe points out. "You were recruited. And I already called legal. They're waiving that clause. They're viewing it as nothing more than a favor to your director. You'll be helping me out, and I want you to know I'll remember that. I remember the nice things people do for me, and I like to repay them with kindness."

And jobs. That's what he's talking about. He's offering to give me a leg up. Working on his next film could be a huge deal. He really wants this.

The problem is the thought of being in front of the camera gives me hives. Not real ones. Real ones might get me out of this situation, but my skin stays a creamy neutral with some sparkly undertones thanks to the magic the makeup man has worked. He's kind of an ass, but the man knows what he's doing. My hair is in a blonde halo around my head, and my neck seems graceful and long. I look like a very modern princess.

I still don't want to go on camera. "Mr. Helms, I think there has to be someone better. I am not any kind of actress. I'm weird, and being nervous kind of turns me into a walking cautionary tale."

"You won't have to talk much," he promises. "And we'll edit out anything that doesn't look good. You can trust me. I won't make you look like a fool. Only a little of what we film tonight is going to be live. The rest is normal production. There's no problem we can't clean up in post. I'll even let you sit in on the editing."

It's unheard of. Editing on a show like this is everything. Heroes and villains are made in the editing room. I would love to sit in on the editing just for the experience. And yet I can't make myself say yes. Saying yes seems like a slope I don't want to slip down. I can make a mess of things, and I'm supposed to be flying under the radar here. "Have you called a casting company? I'm sure they can have someone here soon."

His expression tightens, but the words that come out of his mouth are patient. "Not soon enough."

"We need to get the introductions filmed in the next two hours. The live elimination ceremony is scheduled for eleven," Christy points out. "We can't be late."

"It's going to be tight as it is," Joe agrees. "But the live stream is going to have millions of viewers. It's going to whet their appetite for the show. And it's going to make our premiere numbers skyrocket."

"I think I'm too nervous. I'm going to be terrible at this. I'm the girl who threw up on stage in fifth grade when they wanted me to say one line. One." I never lived that down, and there are still people out there who call me Vomitting Ani. It's not something I want to do on national TV. I'm a behind-the-scenes person.

"Can we have the room for a moment?" Joe asks.

My nerves shoot up because I'm not sure I want to be alone with this man. He's been nice so far, but I get the feeling I'm about to meet his ruthless side.

The makeup guy shakes his head as he leaves, as though he's done what he can and can't help me anymore. Christy puts a hand on Joe's arm as though offering him support and then she leaves, too.

I'm left alone with the very man I'm supposed to be investigating. He stares at me for a moment. An awkward, long moment.

"Anika, this show is important. I know everyone thinks it's all bullshit, but I have a different point of view." He keeps a respectful distance, his tone still calm and soothing.

I know it's important to him. That's part of the problem. "I'm sure it is, and that's why I don't want to mess things up for you."

He seems to consider my words, those brows of his furrowed in concentration. "Ah, you've heard the rumors and think this is all about me proving to Jessica Wallace that I'm in control and I won't go off on a bender."

I feel my skin flush. "I don't think that."

His expression gentles. "Then you're the only one. I understand what I did made everyone question my capabilities. I'm an artist, but I still have to be insured, and she can't pass me that gorgeous franchise if I can't get insurance to cover me. But that's not why I think this project is important. There's more at stake here than my career."

"I know it's a massive production and it employs so many people," I begin.

He holds out a hand. "Again, this isn't about me or anyone in the crew. This is about our bachelor. I'm friendly with the king. I shot part of a movie in his country."

"I'm sure he's nice," I allow.

"It's not about him being nice. The king is a great guy, but more importantly he's a magnificent king," Joe says. "Reg is a very modern monarch. He's out there with his people every day. Look, don't tell anyone because we have an illusion to create, but there's not a ton of money in Ralavia right now. After the floods a couple of years back, the king used an enormous amount of his own money to rebuild the capitol city. He's doing this because he thinks if people see how beautiful the country is, they'll come back. Tourism was wiped out by the floods, but the country is ready to welcome them again. They need those tourist dollars or they'll have to default on their debts soon."

I'd heard about the tragedy that had taken place in that part of the world. "So this is like a tourist ad?"

He nods as though happy I've caught onto the idea. "Yes. The ski season is coming up right after this airs, and we're going global with this one, so we're hoping Europeans remember Ralavia exists and bring their money back to the country. Put some food on the country's table, so to speak. Reg isn't doing this because he wants true love. He's doing it to keep his people from starving."

My heart hurts for him, but it also hurts for the contestants. "But what about the women who are here for the right reasons?"

Damn. I just said it. Told you there would be a lot of that phrase.

Joe chuckles. "I assure you they're all here for the same reason. Fame. How many of these things end up working out? One in a thousand? No one expects them to genuinely get married. The winner of the show will do some press with the king, wave from the palace a couple of times, and then they'll quietly break it off and no one will be all that surprised."

"That feels cynical." Even as I say the words, I know I'm being na?ve. This is why I like to work on the fictional side of the entertainment industry. It's all characters, and the actors don't have to risk their hearts or their mental health.

"Or he could find the love of his life here," Joe says, a plea in his tone. "You never know what can happen when you put people together. There will be some excellent opportunities to get to know the king. Why can't two people fall in love here? They fall in love at work all the time. All I'm saying is I need you, Anika. The people of Ralavia need you. It's one night and then you're out, and you will have helped a whole nation."

Or they could do it with twelve contestants. I want to say that, but I doubt it will move the man.

He's figured out exactly the path to take with me, and I realize how dangerous this man could be if he doesn't want to do the right thing. He's charming and smooth and didn't take no from me. He has me right where he wants me, and I can't wriggle out of the trap. "All right. One night. I'll blend into the background. Maybe I can be that girl who smiles and looks relieved that I didn't get picked because I didn't feel the connection either."

Joe opens the door, and I realize Christy and the makeup guy have been waiting right outside. They hadn't been making alternate plans in case he failed. They know he'll get what he wants.

"Tears would be so much better," Joe replies as they all move back in. "If you could look crestfallen, maybe have a couple of tears clinging to your cheeks, that would be perfect."

"Don't sob." Christy is rummaging through the rows of clothes they have set up. For the most part the contestants will wear their own clothes, but a good selection is kept in case production doesn't like a contestant's fashion sense. "It looks terrible on camera. Unless you're going to flip a table. That makes for great TV."

Joe shakes his head. "Absolutely not on the first night, though I think we've got at least one girl who will cause some serious drama tonight."

"All of the makeup is waterproof." Makeup guy finally gets the second lash on my lid and stares down at me. "There's plenty of makeup remover in the mansion. Takes a while to get it off, so whatever your skin care routine before bed is, add a half an hour. You're as good as you're going to get."

"But I'm not going to be in the mansion," I say, worried I'm going to have the makeup clinging to me for the next year. "Should we tone this down?"

"You look perfect," Joe insists. "You look like you could be the queen of a small, impoverished European country."

That makes me laugh. He's a charming man. I view him as something of a fatherly figure, but I would bet a lot of women fall for his humor and his ability to figure out a person quickly. When fame hadn't worked, he'd gone straight for my heartstrings. They are always there, waiting to be plucked. Waiting to get me in trouble.

If it helps feed a nation, I suppose I can make it through one whole cocktail party and pretend to be upset I'm not picked out of a group of random women.

There's a brief knock and then Patrick is walking through. He's got a headset on and a clipboard in his hands. "Mr. Helms, we're ready for you. I've got a missing PA, but we'll work it out. I'll fire her as soon as I… What the hell are you doing here, Fox?"

I'm just making the boss love everything about me today. "I got sidetracked."

His face flushes, and it's obvious he's ready to do that firing right here and now.

"Anika is doing me a very large favor, Patrick," Joe says, putting a hand on Patrick's shoulder. I notice the way Patrick stiffens but doesn't move away. "We've lost a contestant, and she's going to take her place. It's one night. The king will reject her and she'll be back on your team in the morning."

"I want to work with the horses," I say because it slips out. See. Nerves make me say stupid things.

Patrick shifts away from Joe, straightening his shoulders and making for the door. "There won't be any horses tomorrow, but I'm sure I can find something suitable for you. Like I said, we're ready to start. The talent is dressed and awaiting their carriage rides. I've got craft services set up at the end of the block since it's going to be a night shoot and I doubt anyone will be able to stop for a real dinner."

"Somehow I think they'll manage," Joe says. "We're making history tonight."

"People still want to take breaks," Patrick insists.

Joe puts an arm around his shoulder as they start to walk out the door. It's a fraternal thing, but Patrick looks uncomfortable. Not a huggy guy.

"That's why I have you to deal with all the union drivel," Joe is saying.

The door closes and Christy holds up what I can only describe as if a sunbeam was a dress. A way-too-short dress. It's gold and made of sequins and glitter.

"Perfect," she says. "And I hope you can walk in five-inch stilettos because I've got a pair of Louboutins that match this dress perfectly. You're an eight, right?"

I'm not, but it won't be the first time I give up comfort for style.

I sigh and pray I make it through the night.