I spluttered out a laugh. “Why do I feel like I’m in a bad comedy skit?”
“Sorry, but being around you, my brain is turning into terrible television. I can’t think straight. I’ll keep it to business now.”
I thought about how we could fake the conflict. We didn’t have any choice in doing this, but we did have a choice in how we presented ourselves.
“I agree, but letusbe in control,” I said. “Let’s talk about exactly what sort of antagonism we want to put out there. It has to be about our working differences and nothing personal. We don’t want to destroy our reputations in the process.”
“You’re right.”
We talked about what we were going to fight about. He pulled me back onto his lap, and between kisses, we talked for a half hour, dreaming up scenarios for tomorrow and next week, where we could fight about the design, me sticking to my vision, him being a bit of a pedantic, unimaginative builder, and then rehearsed the scenarios.
Until we were both yawning.
“I’d better take you home,” he said. “I want nothing more than to sleep wrapped around you all night, but it’s a few more weeks of this arrangement with me living in Mum’s flat and nowhere for us to be alone together. Tomorrow night, I’m booking the Bumblebee B&B. I know there will be loads of comments when we arrive—and even more as we disappear up the stairs. After that, somehow, we can make it work.”
I’d tell Mum and Dad that I was staying with an old friend. “We will make it work.”
“You and I, we’re a good team.” He wrapped me even closer and kissed the top of my head. “A great team.”
Whatever was ahead of us, we were in this together.
45
Tim
“Tim, can wehave you first for your confessional?” Simon asked on the last day of filming, his face belligerent, as though heknew I was going to argue.
“Now? This is the final hour,” I protested. We were all flying around the house, helping Tabs do last-minute moving in of furniture, making of beds, laying rugs, placing cushions, and putting her flowers from the garden in place. Before that, we’d done a massive cleanup after I’d swept a crew of electricians, plumbers, tilers, carpenters, painters and plasterers out the door.
“Now.” Simon had a face like thunder and waved me into the library along with the two cameramen and three execs from London who’d just happened to pop in at the last minute, making this deadline even more intense.
I wondered briefly if he was extra annoyed with me because he somehow knew I’d consulted a lawyer about the social media clause in our contracts. I was still working hard to find a way to get those mean comments about Tabitha erased from the TV show’s website and the comment section monitored going forward. But no, his only focus seemed to be on getting to the end of today.
Tabs raced past me, and checking the cameras weren’t directly on us, I gave her a secret smile. She’d taken this week off her newspaper job to work at the house, and I’d loved seeing her all the time, despite the intense pressure of tonight’s deadline. In the end, we’d spent only one full night together at the Bumblebee B&B, where the walls proved way too thin for us to return. And we’d been forced to grab quick moments in the library and in the truck parked by the river, feeling like naughty teenagers.
Things with Mum and Amy, however, hadn’t been as seamless. Amy still hadn’t stopped by to talk, because she was called back to London for her stage audition. And this afternoon, while Stacy had been doing the washing, Mum had tried to boil an egg and burned her hand pulling the pot off the burner. By the time I rushed home, Stacy had already cleaned and patched up Mum’s hand, and we’d decided to turn off the appliances at the wall until they needed to be used. My resolve to get the prize money to pay for Mum’s residential home had only doubled.
In the library, the blond female exec stepped forward and asked me some easy questions about how panicked I was, but also how excited I was to see the house finished.
“We’ve seen a lot of comments online about Tabitha,” she said. “Saying she’s dull and boring and dreary, a bit of a shrew, and that she doesn’t seem at all fun.” She widened her eyes. “What do you think?”
I flinched. Her question was swift and out of the blue with no warning. Tabitha and I had agreed on nothing personal, but it would look suspicious if I rushed to her defense.
“We’ve been at odds about a lot of things, but—”
“C’mon, Tim, what do you really think? You can tell me.” Now her tone was wheedling, smiley, wanting to be my mate. “Is she someone you’d normally work with?”
I knew this had to be a no. “Not…normally. But—”
“But what? What are you saying? You’re not friends now, are you?”
Every organ in my body was screaming.
The exec’s voice was demanding, her mouth set. The other two execs stepped forward. She wasn’t going to relent, and I was sounding wishy-washy. Yes, Tabs and I had agreed we’d say nothing personal, but we had to win. I was doing this for the both of us. And it was clear from their folded arms that Tabitha would be subjected to these questions too.
“Are you telling me you two arefriends?” the exec asked. The two execs behind her grimaced. I didn’t have any illusions about this. Admitting we were friends was the kiss of death for winning the prize money.
“Oh no. Not friends, of course not.” I scoffed. “Yeah, you’re right. She can come off as dull and boring and not much fun. Like you say, not someone I’d want to work with. But sometimes you have to work with people you don’t want to hang out with.” There, I’d said it. At least I hadn’t said she was a shrew. I was just sort of agreeing with the exec, right? Except shame instantly churned through me. I shook my head in disgust at myself. “Please don’t use that. It’s not what I think at all.”
