ROSE CALLOWAY
You know the stories where the strong, brawny man struts into a room with his head high, his chest puffed, and his stocky shoulders pulled backโheโs the king of the jungle, the big man on campus, the one who quivers girlsโ knees. He carries an air of unwarranted superiority for the pure fact that he has a dick, and he knows it. He expects the girl to go tongue-tied and agree to his every demand.
Well, I am living that story right now.
The man settles into a seat at the head of the conference table (instead of the chair nearest me) and just stares in my direction.
Maybe he thinks Iโm going to be that stupefied girl. That I will cower beneath his deep gray eyes and his combed dishwater blond hair. Heโs twenty-eight, stained with Hollywood elitism and self-righteousness. When I first talked to him, he name-dropped actors and producers and directors, waiting for me to go slack-jawed and dopey. โI know so-and-so. I did a project with whatโs-his-face.โ
My boyfriend had to grab the phone out of my hand before I cursed at the Hollywood exec for irritating the shit out of me.
He finally speaks. โDo you have the contracts?โ His chair screeches as he leans back.
I pull out the stack of papers from my handbag.
โBring them here.โ He motions to me with two fingers.
โYou could have sat beside me,โ I retort, standing on two chunky heels with brass buttons, military-inspired and part of the new Calloway Couture
collection.
โBut I didnโt,โ he says easily. โCome here.โ
My heels clink across the hardwood, and I make the perilous catwalk up to Scott Van Wright.
He props one ankle on his thigh, his finger to his cheek as he unabashedly peruses my body. From my slender legs, to the hem of my black pleated dress with sheer quarter-sleeves, and to the high collar that frames my stiff neck. He traces my dark-glossed lips, my rose-blushed cheeks, and bypasses right over my pissed-off eyes, spending an extra moment fixated on my chest.
I stop by his legs and throw the contracts on the table in front of him. They slide off the polished surface and land on his lap. One stapled stack even slips to the floor. I smile wide since he has to bend down awkwardly to reach them.
โPick that up,โ he tells me.
My smile fades. โItโs underneath the desk.โ
He cocks his head, giving meย anotherย long once-over. โAndย you
dropped it.โ
He cannot be serious. I cross my arms, not responding to his request. He just sits there, waiting for me to comply.
This is a test.
Iโm used to them. Sometimes I even dole them out myself, but this one is going to lead me nowhere good.
If I bend down, heโll establish this strange power over me. Heโll be able to command me in the same way that Connor Cobalt can force people to do his bidding with simple words.
Itโs a manipulatorโs gift.
Iโm not even close to possessing it. I think I wear my emotions too much to have that type of influence over other people.
โGrab it,โ he says, his gaze halting on my breasts again.
I remind myself why I need Scott and why I want the swarm of cameras to document my every move. I inhale. Okay.ย You have to do it, Rose.
Whatever it takes.ย I cringe and drop to my knees. In a dress. This is a job for a personal assistant, not a client.
I hear him click his pen as I scoop up the papers. Iโm not wearing a low- cut top where Iโll flash him. I donโt have huge breasts to really ogle either.
The most he can do is slap my ass and try to peek up my dress, the hem perilously rising on my thighs.
When I stand back up and smack the papers to the table, his lips curve upward.
Scott Van Wright (asshole) 1 โ Rose Calloway (pathetic) 0.
I sit in the nearest chair while Scott stuffs the contracts in his briefcase. My boyfriend urged me to bring his lawyer to the meeting, but I didnโt want Scott to think that I couldnโt handle the situation myself. I wonโt have
a lawyer while the cameras follow me, and Iโd rather take command now.
Not that Iโm doing a terrific job.
If I ordered Scott to do anything, heโd laugh at me. But I attended a few law courses before I graduated from Princeton. I know my rights.
โJust so we have this clear, you work for me,โ I remind him. โI hired you to produce the show.โ
โThatโs cute. But after you signed that contract, youโve officially becomeย myย employee. Youโre the equivalent of an actress, Rose.โ
No. โI can fire you. You canโt fire me. That doesnโt make me your employee, Scott. That makes me your boss.โ
I expect him to withdraw from this losing battle, but he shakes his head like Iโm wrong. I know Iโm rightโฆ Right? โMy production company has
sole ownership overย anythingย the Calloway sisters film on network television. If you fire me, you need just cause and you canโt jump to another producer. Iโm your only shot at having a reality show, Rose.โ
I remember that clause, but I never thought it would be an issue. I figured Iโd be around Scott maybe twice during the whole filming process. But these were his first words when he walked into the conference room: โWeโre going to be seeing a lot of each other.โ Lovely.
My eyes grow hot. I have to concede on this one. He won. Somehow. I hate it.
โSo, now that we have that clear,โ he says, sitting up and edging closer to me. His knees almost knock into mine. I go utterly rigid. โThere are a
few details we need to go over in case you misread them in the contract.โ โI donโt misread things.โ
โWellย evidentlyย you werenโt using a portion of your brain or else you would have realized that you work for me now. And we wouldnโt have
wastedโฆโ He checks his watch. โโฆfive minutes of my time.โ He flashes me a sardonic smile like Iโm a little girl.
โIโm not an idiot,โ I retort. โI graduated at the top of my class with highest honorsโโ
โI donโt care about your fucking degree,โ he says sharply. โYouโre in the real world now, Rose Calloway. No university is going to teach you how to navigate this industry.โ
Doubt surfaces. I donโt know much about reality television, but Iโve been immersed in the media long enough to know it can help someone as much as it can destroy them.
And I need that help.
I understand exactly why the network would take an interest in the
daughters of Fizzle. My fatherโs brand has beat Pepsi for the past two years in sales, and heโs working to make Fizzle the soda of choice among southern states. We should be as anonymous as the face behind Coca-Cola, but ever since my family was thrust into the public eye, weโve been under
intense scrutiny, and itโs all because of my younger sisterโs scandal.
My brand should have exploded from all the media and press, but the
name Calloway Couture has been linked with Lilyโs dirty secrets. And what once was a thriving fashion line in H&M has been destitute in boxes and boxes, piled in my New York office.
I needย goodย exposure, the kind that will have women desiring a one-of- a-kind coat, a unique pair of a boots, an affordable but chic handbag. And Scott Van Wright is offering me a primetime reality show that will tempt
viewers to purchase my pieces.
So thatโs why Iโm agreeing to this. I want to save my dream.
Scott says, โThere will be cameras in your living room and kitchen at all times, even after the three-person crew leaves. Youโll only have privacy in your bedrooms and bathrooms.โ
โI remember this.โ
โGood.โ Scott clicks his pen. โThen maybe youโll remember that each week, I expect to have interviews with the cast, which includes you, your three sistersโโ
โNot three,โ I say. โOnly Lily and Daisy agreed to the show.โ My eldest sister, Poppy, wouldnโt sign the contract because she didnโt want her daughter to be filmed. My little niece has already endured enough paparazzi since Lilyโs scandal.
โFine, she would have been a boring addition anyway.โ
I glower.
โIโm just being honest.โ
โIโm used to blunt honesty,โ I tell him. โI just find yours crass.โ
He eyes me in a new way, as though my words carried a plume of toxic pheromones. I donโt understand. I am so mean. I amย glaringย like I want to rip off his penis, and yet, heโsย attracted. There is something seriously wrong with him.
And maybe my boyfriend.
And really, any guy whoโd like to be with me. Iโm not even sureย Iย want to be with me.
โAs I was sayingโฆโ His knee brushes mine.
I roll backwards, and he only grins more. This is not a cat-and-mouse
game like he believes. I am not a mouse. And heโs not a cat. Or vice versa. I am the fucking shark, and heโs a lame human in my ocean.
And my boyfriend, heโs the same species as me. โContinue,โ I snap.
โIโll be interviewing you, your two sisters, Lilyโs boyfriend and his brother.โย 6 people + 6 months + 3 cameramen + 1 reality show = infinite drama. Iโve done the math.
Scott will be conducting the interviews thoughโฆ I internally gag. โYouโre forgetting my boyfriend,โ I say. โHeโs a part of the show too.โ
โOh right.โ
โDonโt act like you forgot, Scott. You just said you were practicing honesty, and now, well, youโre a bit of a liar.โ
He ignores my slight. โEvery episode will be aired one week after weโve filmed. The premiere will be in February, but weโre filming ASAP. Like I mentioned over the phone, weโre trying to make this show as real-time as
possible. Itโs been six months since it was publicized that your sister is a sex addict. We need to capitalize off that buzz as quickly as we can.โ
โYou and every other person with a camera,โ I say. Thereโs always at least two chubby males stationed outside my gated house with lenses pointed at us. Lily jokes that theyโre probably hanging around waiting for her to give them blow jobs. I would be more amused if I didnโt see the mail that perverts send her, most accompanied with pictures of their hairy genitalsโitโs a sick fan club. I sift through her letters before I hand them to her now.
โAnd lastly,โ Scott says, โyou have no control over how youโre edited.
Thatโs my call.โ
I have about as much power over the reality show as I do paparazziโs snap-quick photos.
I can try to act like a non-bitchy, non-argumentative angel on film, and Lily can try to be a virginal saint. But at the end of the day, the cameras will catchย us. Flaws and all. And thereโs no forcing something different. That
was the stipulation that all my friends and sisters agreed to.ย To do the show, weโre not pretending to be someone else.ย And I would never ask that of them.
Weโre rolling the dice on this one. People may hate us. They already call Lily a whore on gossip blogs. But in the small chance that people grow to
love usโmy company may be saved. I just need good publicity so that a retailer has a reason to stock my clothing line again.
And maybe Fizzle wonโt be so bruised by Lilyโs impropriety too. Maybe my fatherโs soda company will rise in stocks rather than fall.
Thatโs the hope.
โAre you okay with this?โ Scott questions.
โI donโt know why you ask. I signed the contract. I have to be okay with it or else youโll take me to court.โ
He lets out a short laugh and scans my body for the third time. โI canโt imagine your boyfriend knows what to do with you.โ
โBecause youโve never met him.โ
โIโve spoken to him. He sounds malleable.โ He taps his pen. โIf I told him to drop on his knees and suck my cock, I think he would.โ
My nostrils flare. I am fuming. โYou think that.โ I stand. โAnd when he stabs you in the fucking front, Iโll be the one smiling by his side.โ
Scottย grinsย at this. โChallenge accepted.โ Stupid intellectual pricks.
Funny thing is, Iโm dating one.
So while Iโm stuck in this moronic cock fight, I know Iโm partially to blame.
I knew I should have lowered my standardsโdated a guy who rides around on his skateboard with his shirt inside-out. I grimace. Just kidding. Iโll take my suit-and-tie boyfriend. Iโll take the high IQ and the rapid-fire banter. I just hope Scottโs eagerness to unsettle him wonโt disrupt the reality show.
But if I know anything, itโs this: My boyfriend loves winning.
And he hates to lose even more.