Page 41 of Pity Pact
The producer stares at me condescendingly. “It states clearly that you must always be available during filming. If you go into the dining room, and we need you, you’ll delay us.”
“What’s your name?” I ask heatedly.
“Dale.”
I’m starting to feel lightheaded, so I kick off my shoes. I read somewhere the best way to regain your equilibrium is to remove any barrier between your feet and the ground—something about the earth’s magnetic field sucking out tension. Unfortunately, in my current situation, that’s a bad move. Dale is quite tall, and I’m now very short. But I persevere. “Look here, Dale.” I say his name like it’s a curse word. “I just shot my scene, and there are at least a dozen more people to go before this party starts. I promise I’ll be back before I’m missed.”
Dale looks behind me before replying, “Be that as it may, Miss Holland, I’m going to need you to stay put.”
“What if I had to use the bathroom, Dale? Wouldthatbe allowed?”
“Do you have to use the bathroom?”
“Yes.” What’s he going to do, follow me?
He extends his hand to the wall opposite the ballroom. “It’s right there.”
Of course it is. Before I can walk away, Dale makes a cutting motion across his neck. That’s when I turn to see him signal the camera guy who caught me ripping into Chip. Did he just film me yelling at Dale? What in the world is going on here?Midwestern Matchmakerhas never shown behind-the-scenes footage in the past. At least I don’t think they have.
I suddenly want to cry. I hurry to the bathroom so I can regain my composure privately. I thought being on this show would be so much fun, but I’m only an hour into it and I’m seriously worried it might have been the worst decision of my life.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TIM
Trina knew when I agreed to be on the show that I still had obligations at the club. In the back of my mind, I was hoping that would be a deal breaker for her, but she agreed to bend the rules for me. Right now, that’s a good thing because if I had to be around that idiot Fielden Marsh for another second, I might have really lost it.
I spend the next hour walking through the dining room talking with guests. I know a lot of them from when I was growing up in Elk Lake, which honestly warms my heart. I sometimes wish I’d never left town. But I wanted to make it on my own, so when I took over for my dad, it would be a position I deserved. I didn’t want to be handed the job just because my family owned the club.
By the time I rejoin the men, I’m the only one left to be interviewed. The sound guy hurries over to me and tucks the battery pack for my mic into the back of my pants and then he runs the wire up my back and clips it to my suit coat.
When Trina calls my name, I stride into the ballroom confidently. She tells the camera, “Our last bachelor is Tim Ferris. Timwasn’t originally scheduled to be on the show, but he agreed to be our knight in shining armor when our other bachelor broke both of his legs.” She pauses to give the audience a moment to digest such a horror. Then she turns to me. “Tell us about yourself, Tim.”
Smiling in what I hope is an engaging way, I tell her, “I’m an Elk Lake native, and my family owns the country club here, which is how you came to ask me to be on the show.”
“What is your ideal woman like, Tim?”
I wrack my brain for an answer to her question. Unfortunately, the only thing that comes to mind is what my ideal womanisn’tlike. I finally say, “I like honest women who value their commitments.” I sound like I’m describing my ideal housekeeper.
“It sounds like there might be a story there …” She waits for me to fill her in.
“We all have our stories, Trina. Not all of them are meant to be shared.”
She suddenly looks uncomfortable. “Obviously, our producers do background checks on everyone who applies to be on the show …”
My eyebrows lift so high they’re probably at my hairline. In a bid to keep her from revealing my past, I interrupt, “Yes, but I didn’t apply to be on the show. I’m doing you a favor by filling in at the last minute.”
She reluctantly meets my gaze. “Yes, you are.”
Remembering that I never turned in my contract, I reach into my jacket pocket and pull it out. Then I wave it in the air. “I haven’t given you my contract yet …” My threat is implied—talk about Eva and I’ll walk.
Trina calls out to the cameraman, “Stop taping, Hal.” She strides away from me toward the group of producers standing in a circle by the buffet table. There’s a lot of heated mumbling before she finally returns. “They’ve agreed not to bring up your ex unless you do so first. But then it’s fair game.”
I nod my head before handing her the contract. “I don’t knowwhy, but I thoughtMidwestern Matchmakerwas a classier show than some of the others …”
“It’s supposed to be, but I’m only the host.”
“I thought you were a producer, too.”I hate it when people lie to me.