‘All right, that’s it,’ she said, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else.
Oliver had accused her of trying to ruin Declan’s life, something she hadn’t forgotten. When she was lying in bed, trying to get the few hours of sleep she could, his voice played over and over in her head. He was self-righteous, when it came down to it.
Did it count as being self-righteous if you were in the right?
She shook her head, clearing it, and noticed Declan giving her a funny look. ‘Good luck,’ she said, her voice coming out slightly uneven.
‘Er – thanks.’ He and Imogen stood, and Paige automatically flicked the camera off. His face cleared. ‘Are you rooting for us?’ he asked, his cocky demeanour back.
‘Of course,’ Paige said. It was a lie. At this point, she didn’t care who won the show. She hardly cared that it was a good show. All she wanted was one night of uninterrupted sleep.
Darcy arrived at 7:50 p.m., a full twenty minutes late. Paige nearly had an aneurysm, but Brian swooped in before she could get too involved, ushering Darcy to her dressing room. Paige followed after taking some calming breaths, walking through the private part of the villa that the contestants didn’t have access to. It wasn’t nearly as glamorous on the production side of the house, mainly another bedroom the team had been using as a supply closet, Darcy’s dressing room – sometimes doubling as a much-needed nap room – and the house’s indoor kitchen.
‘Ready?’ Paige asked as she entered the dressing room, listening to her intercom. They’d already let the live audience into the garden to find their seats.
Tonight, Darcy was in an 80s-inspired suit dress, with a vaguely floral pattern of reds, greens, purples and blues. She wore dark smoky eyeshadow and a dramatic red lip.
‘Nearly,’ Darcy said, adding more powder to her already-perfect make-up. ‘How are our Lovers?’
‘Good,’ Paige said, glancing at her clipboard. ‘The soundbites from this morning have been added to the montages. Here are your questions for the live interviews.’ She placed a stackof notecards on the table near Darcy’s elbow. She still wasn’t looking at Paige, instead tousling her hair until it reached her preferred level of dishevelledness.
‘Great,’ Darcy said. ‘How are our numbers?’
Paige consulted her clipboard again. ‘As of an hour ago, we’re up 5 per cent in voting over the same time last year.’
Darcy nodded absentmindedly, bending to fiddle with her blue suede boots. ‘We’d hope to be at 10 per cent over last year.’
Paige’s cheeks burned. They had talked about it, and only a week ago they had been on track to meet that goal. Unfortunately, due to the untimely departure of one fan favourite and the complete disinterest of another, viewership had stalled.
‘There’s still time,’ she replied.
‘I’m sure,’ Darcy said, finally straightening. She grabbed the notecards from the table and walked out of the room. ‘I’ll just work my arse off to get us there, hmm?’
They made their way to the girls’ dressing room and Brian’s voice came through Paige’s headset: ‘Audience has been seated.’
‘Brill,’ Paige said, watching as Darcy chatted with the girls still applying make-up. ‘And the sizzle reel?’
‘Already rolling.’
‘Cheers, Bri,’ she said, turning to head to the bedroom to collect any stragglers. ‘I’ll be out in a moment.’ She caught Darcy’s eye and held up a hand to signal her five-minute warning.
As Paige crossed the hall, she noticed the door to the bathroom slightly ajar. Declan was there, staring at himself in the mirror.
It was only a split-second, Paige didn’t pause on her way to the bedroom, but she was struck by the expression on his face. It wasn’t the Declan she’d seen through the weeks, the boisterous, cocky man who had given her so many perfect moments to air tomillions, the one she’d spoken to that morning. At first glance, she assumed he’d thrown water on his face to calm his nerves before the live show, but maybe he’d been crying. His face had been twisted in pain, but it was hard to know for sure, with her guilt over Oliver warping her perception.
She reached Brian in the outdoor kitchen, the crew’s makeshift backstage for the finale. He smiled faintly at her, sweat collecting on his forehead.
‘Last few hours now,’ he said, putting out his hand. Paige took it. ‘It’s been a pleasure working with you.’
Paige was touched; she’d never pegged Brian for the sentimental type, but she’d take the small kindness he offered in the sea of chaos.
Darcy came out behind her, applause from the crowd rising at her appearance.
‘All set?’ she asked, looking between Brian and Paige expectantly. Brian nodded. ‘Great!’ She threw on her most dazzling smile and strolled out onto the grandstand stage the crew had constructed for the occasion. ‘Hello, everybody! Are you ready to crown our winning couple for this year’sSummer of Love?’
The crowd shouted enthusiastically, and Paige settled into her role of producing the live show. This was always the part she’d been good at, setting cues and calling shots.
‘Thirty seconds out,’ she called to the controllers, ‘ready pre-taped interview highlights.’ She paused, counting the seconds as she scanned Darcy’s script, a speech she’d already memorised. ‘Okay, take highlights.’
