‘There’s a pack of fifty tealights in that one,’ the other one said, pointing to the bags again. ‘That one’s cheese and shit.’
‘I want two hundred electric tealights,’ I said. ‘There’s a breeze, the real ones might blow out. Any roses from last night that still look fresh.’
‘Do you really need so much stuff?’
I fixed him with one of my top-shelf glares.
‘Sorry, Murray,’ the other one said. ‘We’re going.’
I let out a sigh when they left. That display was not going to earn me a World’s Best Boss mug. Ruling with an iron fist just made people resent you – and, if they were motivated and Machiavellian enough, start plotting to overthrow you.
But the job had to get done. Properly.
I sighed again, took a long swig of water, and started the thankless task of untangling strings of fairy lights.
I ran through my to-do list as I wove the lights through the trellis. Set up the one-on-one time. Shoot it. Conductthe post-mortem interviews with both Dylans. Run through Romeo-Dylan’s schedule for tomorrow with him. I should put the first of his little friend chats with Cece in the early morning. It’d mean a pre-dawn start for me, but if I could make the chats feel like a sleep-robbing chore to him, maybe I could persuade him to give up on them.
A quick war room meeting with Suzette and Carrie to go over tomorrow’s plan. I’d hang back afterwards, go through some dailies. I could get one of them to do it, but I wanted to make sure I had a firm grasp on all the emerging storylines. Plus, I didn’t trust anyone else not to miss things.
‘You’re missing the sunset, Murray.’
I leaned my forehead against the trellis, exhaustion breaking over me like a wave.
‘Look!’ Lily said. ‘It’s gorgeous. I know full night is traditional for intimacy time, but maybe you should consider shooting at golden hour.’
I succumbed to temptation and turned around.
Lily was wearing the same long dark purple dress she’d worn pre- and post-costume on the group date, a deep eggplant colour that evoked Ursula fromThe Little Mermaid(a villainous enough colour palette that I’d made one of the other contestants, who’d been wearing a shirt in the same shade, change). She’d washed the hairspray out of her hair, and it was straight again, glossy black in the last rays of the sun. She had her hands on her hips, the way she usually stood when she was assessing the set-up for a shot, smiling at me.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ I said.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m busy!’
I turned back to the trellis, gripping it with one hand as I tried to loop the fairy lights through the top railing. ‘The Dylans are going to be here soon, and I’ve got about an hour and a half’s worth of set dressing to do.’
‘I didn’t know this kind of menial labour was part of your job.’
I shot her a look over my shoulder. ‘It isn’t. But the network’s cut our crew numbers to absolute shit this season. We’ve all got to help out. Which is why I don’t have time to – don’t touch that!’
She didn’t stop unpacking the bag, laying cheese and quince paste and grapes on the coffee table. ‘If you need help, then I’ll help.’
‘You don’t know what you’re doing.’
She scoffed. ‘Murray, you know better than anyone that I can assemble a cheeseboard.’
I ran out of things to say. Or maybe I had too many things to say. All I could manage was a glare and a choked growl.
‘Don’t try that with me,’ she said. ‘I’m not scared of you. What kind of cheeseboard do you want? Simple and clean, or a real cheese extravaganza?’
My knuckles were white as I clung to the trellis. The adrenaline and caffeine in my veins had evaporated. I wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground.
‘Extravaganza,’ I said. ‘Dylan G’s a frontrunner. We want this one-on-one to have a real cornucopia feel. Abundance. Overflow.’
I looped the last of the fairy lights around the trellis and then stepped back, walking over to the green bag with the tealights. I licked my finger and held it up to the breeze.
‘They’ll blow out.’ Lily didn’t look up from the cheeseboard. ‘Have you got the electric ones?’
