Page 36 of Unscripted

“It’s no use,” an annoyingly familiar voice said behind me.

I lifted my head, not turning around yet, and replied, “And why’s that?”

“Because,” Callum said, coming to lean against the counter by my side. He reached across me to grab a loaf of bread. If a shiver happened to go through me at the graze of his arm against mine, I resolutely ignored it.

He carried on, moving away from me and to the pantry where he pulled out more food.

“He’s into Ella.”

“Ella? Really?”

I looked out across the yard to the lounge chairs by the pool. Sure enough, there was Liam, sitting next to Ella, chatting away. It was the most I’d seen him speak the entire time we had been in the villa. It was definitely more than the few words he’d said to me.

I groaned again, and Callum must have heard it because he laughed.

“Looking for a new match?” he asked.

I turned to face him, making sure he could see the daggers I was shooting his way with my eyes.

Ignoring my death glare, Callum walked toward me. He came right up to me, so close that I had to take a few steps back until my butt hit the kitchen counter behind me. All logical thought left my brain, and my heart began to race at our close proximity.

He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, sending sparks shooting down to my gut and whispered, “Don’t worry. I am too.”

It was like being doused with ice-cold water.

And then he was gone, moving away from me before I could shove him off. He laughed as he took the sandwich he had somehow made in the time we were in the kitchen together and went to sit next to Olivia on the daybeds.

I stayed in the kitchen for a while longer, stewing over the dismal turn of events with Liam and the audacity of Callum.

I would show him. That night at the cocktail party it was game on. I would flirt my little heart out.

I would find a new match if it was the last thing I did.

***

The girl’s dressing room was a hive of activity as we got ready for the evening’s cocktail party.

I blew out my hair and decided on a cobalt blue slip dress. I thought it was rather short until I looked around and saw the micro-mini dresses the other girls were wearing. I looked like a nun compared to everyone else.

Once ready, we made our way out into the hall and lined up at the door, just as we had the night before.

I was thrilled to see Harry was once again the producer cueing us in, and as we waited for the go-ahead, I slid up to his side.

“Poppy!” he exclaimed, grabbing my forearm in excitement.

“Hi!” I said back, happy to see his familiar face.

He looked at the other girls chatting around us and leaned forward, whispering, “You’re doing great! You are an absolute natural on camera.”

Something inside of me warmed at his encouraging words. I didn’t realize how much I needed some positive feedback until then.

I was about to reply when the walkie-talkie at Harry’s hip squawked and a voice sounded from it. “Harry, the girls are a ‘go’ to enter the garden.”

He took it off his belt, pressed the talk button, and said into it, “Copy that.”

“Alright ladies, go on out,” he called out.

As I turned to walk out the door and into the garden, Harry grabbed my arm once more.