“But it’s reality television.” Cash waved the waiter over for more water. The aroma of curry hit him before the diminutive man of interminable age slid the curry and rice dish in front of Erik. When Cash had called and asked Erik to meet him for lunch at his grandfather’s restaurant, Erik had agreed. While he was friendly with most of his teammates, he and Cash were close friends.
“Like I have room to judge.” His entire childhood was one big reality television show from Uncle Tank, the grifter, to the guy’s crooked friends.
“You can’t help the family you were born in.” Cash thanked the waiter and picked up a piece of hot naan bread. He flipped it in his hands, trying to cool the golden bread. The smell of garlic drifted between them. “But back to Belle. Do you think it’s smart to keep her on as your agent?”
“What do you mean?” Erik stirred the curry with his spoon but didn’t take a bite.
“What happens if she’s kicked off the show? She might not be too thrilled at being dumped on national television.”
He laid his spoon down and reached for the naan bread, not really hungry but needing to keep his hands busy. “She’s on board. As a matter of fact, she wants to be kicked off first. She gets a car, the main reason she agreed to be on the show with me.”
“That’s a nice incentive. If I recall, which I do, you’ve been interested in her for a long time.”
Cash was one of the few people Erik had shared that with. “I was but that was in the past.”
He took a bite, the disbelief in his expression telling. “In the past three months? Because that’s how long I was gone.”
Damn, why had Erik even told him at all? It was a stupid crush on a woman he saw once every few months. If he’d been serious about Belle, he’d have pursued her more aggressively. “It was a flirtation. She never took me seriously.”
“Because you don’t take yourself seriously,” he said on a more thoughtful vein.
“If I wanted to be psychoanalyzed, I’d go to therapy.” Erik wasn’t in the mood for one of Cash’s lectures on how he was covering up his feelings by playing the class clown. He liked making people laugh, it was who he was. The fact he wasn’t always good at it, didn’t stop him. Life was about having fun, not focusing on negativity.
“That might not be a bad idea.” Cash took a bite of bread, closed his eyes and chewed. “I can give you my dad’s number.”
“I don’t want your dad’s number. I’m fine.” He tore his own piece of naan and dipped it into the spicy curry. Maybe the heat of the dish could distract him from the woman sitting close but a world away.
“Well, I want Kendra’s number. Would you ask Belle for it?” Cash waved at Erik’s phone with his spoon.
EE: Cash wants to know if he sends a note to Kendra asking for her phone number, if she’ll check the yes or the no box.
He tilted his head and heard a bark of laughter. He looked up and saw Belle and Kendra bent over the phone with wide grins.
Cash narrowed his eyes and snatched Erik’s phone from his fingers. He scanned the text. “Dick head.”
Cash tapped out a text and hit send. He threw the phone back on the table. Erik read Cash’s reply. “Here’s my number, yes texts only. No charges apply.”
Erik chuckled. “Good one.”
Cash’s phone buzzed and he lifted it up. “Bingo. She said yes.”
Erik looked over at Belle once more. She was sitting back in the chair, her expression hidden by the shadows. She was close but a world away.
Chapter Thirteen
Breathe. Just breathe.
Belle stood on the other side of the lounge door and fiddled with the bell charm on her bracelet. Like the other women, she’d been in the green room. If she was a real contestant and actually went to the last three rounds, she’d be forced to share a house with the remaining women. Thankfully, that wasn’t going to happen. If it did, it wasn’t the first time she’d been in a house with strangers with an attitude. Foster care had been an eye opener. Belle had stayed to herself, not giving in to the drama.
“Okay, we’re ready for you,” Tim said.
She downed the remaining wine in her glass, squared her shoulders, and knocked on the door. Darius met her on the other side, holding out his elbow to her. “Belle, welcome back.”
The lounge was the same as the one she’d seen for the past seven years on TV. A small staircase lead to a seating area, where two tables flanked the red sofa. The set was lit by sparkling lights resembling candlelight. A large chandelier sparkled in the dim glow. It would have been romantic had there not been camera men on both sides of the curtains blocking them from view, as well as the entire crew watching. Luckily, this part of the show had no audience. It was filmed and broadcast on Tuesday night. After a lot of sleepless hours, she’d decided to simply be herself. Chances were, she’d be kicked off soon and this might be the only opportunity to see—if just for a little while—what it was like to date Erik. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but what the hell.
Erik stood on the dais dressed in a black tux and white shirt, his hand outstretched. She placed one palm in his, the feel of his hand comforting. Lifting the skirt of her long blue strapless gown to avoid stepping on it, she ascended the two stairs. The show insisted on formal wear for the in-studio shots and she was afraid to inhale too deeply, lest her boobs fell out of the plunging bodice.
“You look very nice tonight.” He flashed an encouraging smile; one she knew all too well.
