Reality Check (9 page)

T
here was no way she could get on the tour bus with him; the huge tour bus with the word JET written across it. She laughed. There had been some truth to Sully's saying Liam took a jet everywhere he went, just not in the literal flying-in-the-air sense. No, she couldn't ride with him. He was too gorgeous, and his raspy voice was heart melting. There was no way she could let him take her to Chicago. She was too afraid that somewhere on the highway between wherever they were and their destination, she'd fall for him. His looks were enough to make any living, breathing girl question having a relationship with anyone besides him. Even Mason.

“Charly,” he said, standing two feet from her while Doll emptied her bladder, “you know I can't and won't leave you out here. Since we're going to be starring on the same series and now traveling together, we might as well get to know each other. Wouldn't you say?”

God, his accent rattled her. It stole every bit of cool she possessed and warmed her to the core. The drive to Chicago was going to be long. Too long, she told herself, thinking about Mason, who, despite it all, was her boyfriend, whether they were into it or not. She nodded. Yes, she wanted to know Liam. She wanted to know him like she wanted to be the best actress in the world. And keeping her distance and pretending to view him only as a costar would put her actress skills to the test. She'd be Oscar worthy by the time they finished taping the first show.

Liam held out his hand to her. “C'mon, love. We may as well get this over with. The cameras are waiting.”

Charly took his hand and gulped. She'd had enough of cameras and cameramen already. In just the short time she'd been blinded by all the wattage, just moments before the bus broke down, she'd grown not to like them. She'd rather they be saved for the show's taping. “You have a crew on your bus, too?”

Liam nodded, stopping in front of the bus. “Yes, unfortunately. But my camera crew is here for two reasons. I'm, of course, doing our show,
The Extreme Dream Team
, but I'm also doing a video diary for the video channel here in the States. One will help play the other up—the
Dream Team
show and the
Behind the Scenes with Liam
diary.” He winked. “I bet it'll help you too.” He shrugged, then began to walk up the stairs, pulling her along. “If you want . . . I mean, there's plenty of room in the spotlight, and I don't mind sharing.” He turned to her. “Now, tell me why you're here. How'd you get cast on the series?”

Charly stepped on the bus, smiling. She gritted her teeth and kept her lips wide, prepared for the camera crew. If she couldn't do anything else, she could be the star they expected her to be because she was born for the role. And that's exactly what she told Liam when she finished telling him of her epic adventures that had landed her on the series. When the cameras weren't rolling, she told him everything else, even the parts about the lies, her once missing father she pretended to fly to New York to visit, whom she now lived with, and how many times her mother had stolen from and mistreated her. Charly couldn't believe how easy it was, talking to Liam. He'd asked her a simple question, and she'd bombarded him with truth. And it felt good. She'd never been so honest before.

“You're brave,” he told her, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Braver than most adult men. Question?”

“Answer,” Charly replied, laughing.

“So since you're from Illinois, is there anything you suggest I see or do besides the usual tourist stuff when we're there? A restaurant I should eat at, perhaps?”

Charly laughed. “Do you like popcorn? There's this mom-and-pop place there that sells caramel and chocolate–covered popcorn that's sprinkled with pecans. It's different, and they're the only place that makes it, that I know of. It's my favorite . . .” she began, then settled in. The ride to Chicago was going to be eventful, she thought, finally breathing after getting used to the cameras and microphones being in her face. Liam, to her dismay, had lived up to his handsomeness and delectable accent. She'd silently hoped that he'd stumble over his words, say something stupid that would turn her off. But no, he'd done just the opposite. He'd intrigued her, then held her attention with his story. Like her, he'd always wanted to be on television, but was a bit different because he didn't consider himself an actor. He'd smiled at her, then told her how he'd moved from “across the pond” to attend some elite prep school that had scouted him because of his rowing ability, which impressed Charly. She didn't know that schools had rowing teams, and really hated to admit that she didn't know what one was. Who knew schools scouted people to row boats? Or that people got Ivy League university scholarships because of it? She laughed at herself. She'd been so in the dark before moving to the East Coast, and was grateful for finally getting the light she so needed, including the limelight she'd now be sharing with him. Yes, Liam was refreshing. He was a breath of fresh air and trouble waiting to happen. She could feel it. He'd snatched her admiration when he'd told her that he'd walked away from everything—the elite prep school, the rowing team, and more-than-a-possibility of attending an Ivy League college—to live his dream after Mr. Day had discovered him in a home renovation store.

“Yeah, I was there to buy wood to finish building a boat, and there Mr. Day was, staring and smiling. He asked two questions, then my world changed.” Liam grinned, tossing her a look, then turned his attention back to a sketchbook he was doodling bedroom designs in. He was preparing plans for the furniture he was going to make for the little girl they were going to surprise with a bedroom/office makeover.

“What did he ask?” Charly was curious.

“He asked if I was handy at carpentry, which I am. I can design and build just about anything. Then he asked if I wanted to be a star, and of course I said yes.” He threw her a quick wink, then turned the drawing pad around so she could see it. “What d'you think? You think the girl will like it?”

Charly nodded at his design, thinking it was as wonderful as their entire conversation had been, and how wonderful talking to him had made her feel. It was nice to know someone who'd wanted something as badly as she, and even better to know he'd be on the road with the show. “It's perfect. Really perfect, Liam. I see why you're in such demand.”

“And in the morning, I'll get to see why you're in such top demand, Charly,” he teased, winking.

“Tomorrow morning? I thought we were jumping right into the taping.”

He shook his head no, then nodded yes. “Yes. In a few hours we have to do a run-through. That way you and the local crew—there's one local crew for every show—get a feel for the taping. I believe it's more for you and me. This is my first time doing a reality series here in the States, and I think they want to pretend to break you in on how it goes, while at the same time breaking me in. You don't mind, do you, love?”

Charly nodded, then shook her head. Being so close to Liam was causing confusion between what her mind said—
be professional
—and what her heart was urging—
he's fine and you're on the road with him
. Charly smiled, sure her skin was tinted crimson. With Mason, she'd been uneasy too, but in a different way. Mason made her nervous and want to be everything she thought he thought she was. All the thinking about what
she
thought
he
thought was confusing. With Liam she felt something different, something more kindred. Probably because of the series, she told herself. Yes, that had to be it. She was naturally drawn to Liam because they had something in common besides big cities and small towns, the things that had brought her and Mason together. “It's cool.” She yawned, then stretched.

Liam laughed. “Well”—he paused, looking at her outstretched arms and long legs—“I might mind. If you're going to be looking so beautiful all the time, you may distract me.” He laughed again. “You can sleep in my bunk, if you like. I'll crash here. We've only a few hours left before we arrive, so get some sleep.”

Charly nodded. She was tired and wouldn't fight him on sleeping—especially not on his bunk. She loved that he was gentlemanly enough to give her his bed, almost as much as she loved his accent. No matter how often she heard it, Charly knew she'd never get used to it. It was so scrumptious to her ears, she couldn't hear it enough. She inhaled, then tried to breathe easy as she made her way to where he rested his head. They'd soon be in Chicago, and she had to be ready.

C
harly's eyes bulged and lit up while watching Chicago transform from the Windy City to the city of the fabulous; at least that's how she felt seeing the room change. A desk moved in front of her like it had human legs instead of four inanimate ones, and seemed to be scampering to and fro, until just the right location was found, which was dictated by Liam's, “Yes, right there. Perfect!”

“Whaddya think?” Annison asked Charly while overhead cameras and lights were pointed at them.

Charly nodded and grinned at Marlow, who was just off the set with a handler. Her dog was behind the cameras and crew, but still within Charly's sight, which she'd demanded. Mr. Day had told her that there was no way the studio would go for pets on the set because that would change the entire concept of the show, but had agreed for Marlow to tour with her. Annison had Doll, so there was really no way he could argue against Marlow's tagging along. “I think it's great, and I know that Elisa will too,” Charly began, then reminded the audience about the recipient's achievements and why Elisa was chosen by
The Extreme Dream Team
for a makeover. “After being the class president and valedictorian at her school, and founding RMAH, which stands for Raising Money and Awareness for the Homeless, Elisa deserves this makeover.”

Annison nodded, smiling like a supermodel, and just as fake as one too. For some reason, many of her grins seemed superficial, and there was a certain blankness behind her eyes that made her seem lifeless. Charly wondered what had made Annison seem so unhappy, but whatever it was was becoming more apparent. “I agree, Charly. She certainly does.”

“Absolutely, she does!” Liam's voice came from behind, followed by his hands, which tickled Charly. “I just thought I'd pop over and see if you two girls need anything before I head back outside.”

Charly giggled, swatting Liam away. “We're great in here. Thanks.” Her voice trailed off and her hands reached toward her pants. “Speaking of she,” Charly began, then took her phone out of her pocket. “That's Elisa calling now.” Charly began to walk away from the furniture movers and noise, then looked at Annison for the sign to answer Elisa's call.

Annison knocked on the window, held her finger to her mouth to quiet the noise outside the house, then shushed the crew inside. Finally she held up her thumb in the air, signaling it was okay to take the call.

Charly smiled into the camera as she spoke to Elisa, making sure she was expressive and very friendly. She nodded as she spoke, then ended the call. “She's about ten minutes away! Let's go meet her.”

“You two go ahead,” Annison said to Charly and Liam. “I just need to make sure all is perfect here. I don't want a thing out of place for Elisa. She deserves the best. Besides”—she nodded and moved her head toward the outside—“it's too dirty out there for me. You know I like to keep it clean.” Her smile was huge, and so was Liam's display of rolling his eyes in the most masculine way a guy could.

Liam held out his arm to Charly. “Your guide awaits, Madame Charly,” he said, winking and smiling.

Charly stuck her arm though Liam's. “Well, thank you, good sir. I couldn't ask for a better one. Off to Lady Elisa, please.” She flirted and joked, changing her American English accent into his Queen's English accent and playing it up for the cameras because she was having fun.

Liam nudged her when their backs were to the cameras, then showed her his palm. In black marker was written: Party 2nite @ the dox. Yes?

Charly nodded and smiled, but this time her grin was reserved strictly for him.

 

Charly's cell screen informed her that she'd received twelve calls since the taping had begun. She shook her head and laughed. Her best friend, Lola, was staying true to her character, calling back-to-back despite knowing Charly wouldn't be able to answer. Charly rotated her head, trying to work out some of the kinks. She'd been a bit anxious about the first show, and that had made her tense. “Thank you,” she said, taking first Marlow and then her messenger bag from an assistant. She shouldered the bag, deciding to call Lola once she got back to the bus. She gripped Marlow's leash, then popped some cheesy fries into her mouth, which she'd swiped from the spread of food the caterers had set up in a tent. “Come on, Marlow. Let's go get some rest.”

“Good show, Charly,” someone complimented her as she walked toward the bus, parked down the block and out of sight from Elisa's home to ensure it'd be out of the way of the cameras.

“Fabulous job, Charly. You're a natural,” another said.

“The newest reality star,” came one more compliment.

“Thank you, guys. You're all the best. Really. You made it so easy for me,” she said, walking backward so she could face them while she expressed her gratitude, then turned toward the bus with Marlow following. She couldn't wait to shower and nap. The day had been long, and she needed to be rested for the party. She stuck more fries into her mouth and licked the cheese off her lips.

“Hey, superstar! Where ya going?” Annison yelled out, stopping Charly as she passed Annison's bus.

Charly smiled. Annison calling her a star was the biggest compliment she could've received. “Thanks, but really . . . we both know who the star of the show is.”

Annison waved away Charly's flattery. “Where are you going?”

Charly shrugged, suddenly not sure
to my bus
was the right answer, but that's where she was headed. “To take a nap . . . ?”

Annison beckoned her. “Well, you might as well ride with me. Come hop on my bus. We're not leaving until the morning, so we're in hotels tonight. You didn't get the updated itinerary yet, I'm assuming. We can do what we want tonight—i.e., go to the party—but we've got an early morning.”

“Early? Why early? We're not leaving yet, are we?” Charly inquired, sticking a few more fries into her mouth.

Annison nodded, then shook her head as she looked at Charly's choice of food with a hint of disgust. “Yes, we're
flying
to Atlanta.”

Charly reared back her head. “Flight? To Atlanta? So soon?”

Annison laughed. “Eventually, but no Atlanta just yet. It only seems as if we're taping back-to-back. I just figured we should hit the town early and do some morning shopping . . . before the stores are packed and I get mobbed.” She shrugged. “After you disappeared and your bus broke down . . .” She shook her head. “Trust me, none of us wanted to bus it across country, anyway. It was only for camera coverage, I'm sure.” Annison pushed her hair out of her face with a book in hand, batted her long lashes, then dug into a bag and pulled out an apple. The book had disappeared, and Charly assumed it was either on the table or in the bag. “Hurry up. There has to be a Jacuzzi waiting for me somewhere.” She turned and looked over her shoulder. “Hello!” she called out to someone Charly couldn't see and assumed was one of Annison's assistants. When there was no response, she said, “Can you believe no one is here to wash or cut this apple for me? Something's going on with the water supply on this bus. Charly, can you be a doll and rinse this off before we leave?” She thrust the apple out of the window.

Charly smiled. Annison wasn't like anyone she knew. She possessed that air of confidence that probably came from her practically being born a star, and oozed it when she talked. She seemed cool but was still different. Charly couldn't imagine her going to a regular school or looking forward to getting a driver's license. She couldn't see her having a worry in the world besides needing someone to cut her fruit. “What book was that?” she had to ask.

“Book? What book? Oh you mean the magazine?” Annison lied. She had been holding a book. “Come on, Charly,” she said, ignoring the question and avoiding giving an answer. “If you hang on the set, people will start to treat you like you hang on the set . . . and eat fast food. Follow my example. I normally play my part then depart—that's what I do. But since this show is based on reality, I do what I'm supposed to do, then I leave because sometimes I just don't feel like acting or being on camera or whatever.” She shrugged. “So, about my apple?”

Charly shook her head, unable to relate to Annison not always feeling up to acting. She shrugged too, then nodded. She appreciated Annison's advice, but she wasn't Annison. “Thanks, Annison. I appreciate you sharing. But I'd rather do this my way. My way works for me.” She shrugged, then stuck a few fries into her mouth. “Sorry. I don't do other people's fruit, but I
do
do fast food.” She threw her costar a nasty look, then walked off. “Marlow's gotta pee.”

“Come on, Charly. It's not that big a deal,” Annison said. “I'm only trying to save your figure and career.”

Charly rolled her eyes. No, Annison wasn't like anyone she knew, and she guessed Annison didn't know anyone like Charly, either.

 

Lola was waiting for her in the sitting area of the hotel lobby, with her legs crossed, popping gum. In her hand was a folded magazine, and on her face was an it's-about-time scowl. Charly's eyes saucered at the sight of her friend.

“Do you know how long I've been here, Charly?” Lola asked, standing and tossing the magazine on a coffee table. She ran her hand over her naturally blond porcupine-ish styled hairdo and slowly batted her ocean-blue eyes. “Huh?” she asked, snaking her neck and wiping pretend sweat from her cinnamon skin.

Charly just rolled her eyes and smiled. “I don't even know how you knew where I was staying. I just found out myself.” She held out her arms. “You know you want to hug me . . . all that calling. You missed your best friend, right?” she asked.

Lola popped her gum, then sucked her teeth. “Whatever, Charly St. James. Why didn't you call me back? Do you realize how much traveling I had to do to get here? It's not like the Chi is minutes away from my crib. I had to bus it, bus it again, train it, then cab it to get here,” she complained, finally giving in, walking over and giving Charly a one-armed hug until the count of three, a time frame they'd come up with that seemed appropriate for a sisterly hug.

“There's a party,” Charly said, dangling the bait. “Why didn't you bring Stormy?”

Lola rolled her eyes. “She wasn't answering her phone or the door. She'd mentioned people coming by the house, then she said something about being scouted for some extreme science fair a couple of towns over. That's where she went, I'm sure,” Lola said, then smiled, pursing her lips. She stepped back and picked up Marlow, cradling her like a baby. “Party, huh? Really? Whose?”

Charly shrugged. “We're here for television, so it's probably some industry party, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Lola said, holding one finger in front of her lips as if she was thinking about it. “I guess I could,” she began. She bent over, then stood again. It took only two steps before Charly noticed Lola had brought an overnight bag with her. “A girl has to be prepared, ya know?”

Charly nodded, laughing. “Yes. I see.”

Lola shook her head. “Oh, I wasn't talking about me, Charly. You know I'm always on top of it. I was talking about you.”

Charly's eyebrows crinkled.

Lola grinned like a Cheshire cat. “You know Mason's here, right?”

Charly's jaw almost hit the floor.

“Well, let's go,” Lola said, and walked away carrying Marlow in one arm and wheeling an overnight bag with the other. “Let's get to our room. I'm tired after all that traveling. You know my house is like seventy miles from here?” she rattled on, making her way to the bank of elevators.

A loud group of people walked by Charly, and she snapped out of her daze. Hoisting up her messenger bag on her shoulder, she walked quickly to the elevators, catching up with Lola.

“So when you say Mason's here, do you mean
here
like in the city of Chicago, or
here
like he's back in the state of Illinois?”

Lola's eyes bulged and she did a double take, looking at something over Charly's shoulder. “Oh, sweet Jesus,” she said, and made Charly laugh.

“You sound like you're eighty or something, Lola. And you're such a sinner, so this has to be good,” Charly said, then looked over her shoulder and saw Sully. She turned and faced Lola. “I know, he's different with all the tattoos and the grimace, but he's—”

“He's gorgeous, and the tattoos look good on him. Is his face pierced?” she asked, nodding. “Interesting.”

“He's also a bit, well . . . mean.”

Lola tapped her foot. “So who is he?”

“That's just Sully. He's on the show. Now, back to Mason.”

“Uh-uh,” Lola said, shaking her head in the negative. “Introduce me, Charly. Please? You have to. Heck, I'm not exactly nice. I can tame him. Hook me up,” she urged, walking around Charly and tugging on Charly's messenger-bag strap.

There was no use, Charly thought. There was no way Lola was going to change her mind or give up information on Mason if Charly didn't cooperate and introduce her best friend to her costar. “Okay, okay,” Charly said, giving in. “Let's hurry up though. I need to shower.”

“Okay,” Lola agreed, pasting a sneerlike smile on her face and eyeing Sully. “I agree. Especially since Mason will be here in less than an hour. You're meeting downtown. . . sorta.”