“Why?”
“You lied.” Her tone said that was that. Simple as pie. There was no getting over it.
“I know this isn’t an excuse,” he said gently, trying to express his sincerity. “But I meant what I said. I didn’t want to embarrass you, so I played along.”
“It’s still a lie. And I don’t waste my time with liars.”
“Then how about we just start as co-workers?” he asked, wondering if he really screwed up so bad that he couldn’t charm his way into her good graces. Surely he could. If they could work this out, he’d have six weeks not just to change her mind but to change America’s.
She looked deep into his eyes as if accessing her internal BS detector. How had he forgotten how she messed with his head? How those big green eyes mesmerized him? He’d spent less than twenty minutes with her at the bar and the sparks flew unlike any he’d ever experienced. That’s why he was going to co-host. Besides pulling through for Brian, he wanted to spend more time with her.
And wasn’t that a bad idea.
DIARY ROOM:
Opal: Do I regret matching my niece and Jamison Decker? Absolutely not.
Producer: Even though it was a disaster?
Opal: To the layman’s eye it might have looked like a disaster. But to a trained matchmaker, it was just the start. Not all matches are love at first sight. Although, from the way that young man was looking at my niece, that could be called into question. And did you see Poppy leaning in to get closer? They might not want to admit it, but there is something there. If it hadn’t been for that ill-timed video, that first evening would have ended differently.
6
If someone had told Poppy three hours ago that she’d be outplayed by her own playbook she’d have laughed in their face. Because if there was one thing she excelled at it was winning friends and influencing people. It was her superpower. And she was determined to make up for her misstep with Wasim and get on sure footing with the rest of the crew. After all, they were going to be her family for the next six weeks.
But there she stood, in the family room of the pool house, which was doubling as the production room and Kiki’s living quarters, holding a box of simple cake doughnuts while the crew was already feasting on fancy, decorative doughnuts from one of those high-end shops that specialized in gourmet pastries.
Everyone was talking and laughing and bonding as if they already had inside jokes—inside jokes she’d missed out on. And in the middle of the circle, acting as if he were the big man on campus, the glue holding this makeshift family together, was Decker.
Poppy wasn’t the jealous kind, and she sure as hell wasn’tgoing to let a guy like him change that. So she’d pull on her big-girl panties and do what she did best—bring the heart and fun to the project. No one said there could only be a single chummy one in the group. If he wanted to be the glue, fine by her. She’d be the superglue.
“Hey, everyone,” she said with a bright smile, approaching the group of five. And while this was the first time meeting most of them, she’d already imagined them being a makeshift family.
There was Clive, the plumber, who was a dead ringer for George Burns in hisOh, Goddays. Next to him was Diana, the director of photography, who had arms the size of concrete pilings and looked like she drove a Harley. There was Jessika, the young PA who was staring up at Decker with hero worship in her eyes. And clearly one couldn’t forget Wasim of the wall cameras and microphones.
Finally, standing with his arm around Wasim, a frosted flake–topped doughnut in hand and his head thrown back like he’d just told the funniest story in the history of stories, stood the bane of her existence.
Everyone’s favorite sex tape star, Jamison Decker.
He was dressed in a soft-looking gray tee that was on the losing end of a battle with his pecs and a pair of cargo shorts that proved he was a strong contender for best ass in the NHL; she had to forcibly remove her gaze from his rump before she was caught staring.
“I see someone beat me to the punch, but I have doughnuts,” she said, walking up to the group.
Every eye met hers and the group fell deathly silent. The energy in the room shifted, going from chummy to closed off.
Refusing to let her smile falter she joined the pack. The oddest thing happened. Everyone except Decker took a large step backward, as if she were patient zero for COVID.
“Hey, Wasim,” she said brightly.
The group looked at Wasim and then at her, then back at Wasim as if they were at Wimbledon waiting for the final serve.
Wasim gave her a tentative smile, then his eyes quickly darted away as if they were wary of her. “Hey, boss.”
Boss?No one had ever called her boss. Had their conversation been that bad? Based on the expression on his face, it had.
Even worse, Jessika threw her arm around Wasim as if offering emotional support. It seemed that the tale of her little tantrum over the cameras had gotten back to the crew. Talk about a bad first impression, even before she had the chance to make a first impression.
This had never happened to her before. People loved her. Her crew loved her. Heck, America loved her—she had a YouTube award to prove it.
