“Yeah. Ranielle and Louis took me under their wing after I moved to the States. They liked what I did back home—some soapies and stuff. And my agent is friends with Ranielle. When he introduced me, she was keen to have me as the face of the show. I took the gig and never looked back.” Fitzy stopped Adi before the corner that led to the makeup room, his brow drawn. “Can I ask you a question?”
Trepidation crept across Adi. It was bad enough that his mom used him. If Fitzy was about to ask for some sort of Hollywood connection through Symphony . . .
“I was wondering if . . .” Fitzy scratched beneath his shirt collar. “Being Carter’s teammate and all, I was curious . . .”
Oh no. This was even worse. Anything but sappy teen romance drama.
Fitzy plowed on. “Has she mentioned me? Or does she, like, have a boyfriend back home, or . . . ?”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Adi, willfully pretending he hadn’t noticed how Carter swooned every time Fitzy entered the soundstage these days. “We’re not that close.”
“Right. Yeah. Of course.” Fitzy looked downcast. “Not like I could do anything about it, anyway. If Ranielle found out, my ass would be gone.”
Adi didn’t answer. Fitzy was already gone, even if he didn’t know it yet. And once Fitzy was fired and the season was wrapped up . . .
“So you’re actually serious about her?” Adi regretted it the moment the words were out. This was none of his business. More than that—he didn’t care about Fitzy’s love life, or Carter’s, for that matter. “Never mind.”
“Nah, it’s cool,” said Fitzy. “We’re not supposed to get involved with the contestants. Ranielle’s real strict about that. I never cared before, but it’s different with Carter.She’sdifferent. You know? Like, she’s soawkwardin person.” He chuckled. “I mean that as a compliment, I swear. Not like the fake Hollywood types you usually meet around here. But then you see her videos and she’s so smart and confident, and sexy as hell when she’s explaining math-y things I don’t understand.”
Adi stared, wondering if Fitzy was as oblivious as he pretended.
Carter, not one of those fake Hollywood types? Sure, she had turned out to be a competent teammate, and Adi had to admit that she wasn’t anything like he’d expected. But she hid behind a cartoon. She wore grungy pajamas at the villas but those ridiculous outfits whenever she was out in public. She was aninfluencer.
“How often do you find a girl who’s that smart, and that beautiful?” Fitzy went on. Apparently, yes, he really was that oblivious. “But this gig is everything to me. Not just because it’s literally the best job in the world, but also . . .”
“Also what?”
“There’s this little green card issue. As long as I’m employed here, it’s all golden, but if I lost this gig . . .” He grimaced. “Well. Back to Oz we go.”
35
Carter
Carter eyed her reflection in the dressing room mirror, holdingstill so the costume assistant wouldn’t prick her with a safety pin. This week, they’d been stuffed into red-and-white-striped vests and suspenders. Carter wasn’t sure what the outfits were supposed to be. A barbershop quartet, maybe? Beck had been given a straw boater hat with a red ribbon, which had made him positively giddy, while Sierra flat-out refused to put on a red bow tie. Adi was late, which was stressing out the costume designers.
Or maybe everyone was stressed-out, period. Carter was certainly on edge. Not only had they already been delayed nearly two hours because of some technical difficulties on set, but also the Game Master was dead, and Ranielle Russell might be a murderer, and the internet was buzzing with conspiracy theories and rehashing the ribbon riddle and wondering if there really was going to be a big “killer reveal” in the finale, and suddenly this family-friendly competition was the scene of murder and drama and revenge, and here she was, normal-awkward-nervous Carter Kelly, caught right smack in the middle of it. People expected her to have answers. She did indeed have answers, about Alicia and Louis and Ranielle, but nothing her fans would want to hear. Hopefully the world would never find out it had been her who had discovered Louis’s body, because then she’d have to record a video about it, and she really, really didn’t want to.
Then there were her parents, whodidknow she’d found the body. She’d had to talk them into allowing her to audition for the show in the first place after what happened last season, then there was the drink spiking and the freezer incident, and now this. They’d been determined to catch the next flight to LA and drag her home.
It had taken hours of arguing before they finally started to calm down. Another hour before they agreed to let her stay.
But if they ever found out about the painting that had been delivered to their villa that morning, or the knife in the cow’s heart, all bets would be off.
She couldn’t leave. Not when they were so close to the finale.
“There you are!” said Sierra as Adi hurried into the room.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Got held up.”
Two assistants dragged him in front of the costume racks and started yelling at him to get changed, fast, fast.
“Well?” said Beck. “How did it go?”
Adi met Beck’s gaze in the mirror as he took off his shirt. He gave a quick shake of his head. “Sorry.”
One word. Barely any inflection. But they all knew what it meant. No info on Sweetbrier Resort.
Beck looked crestfallen. “Thanks anyway.”
