Page 1 of Show Off

CHAPTER1

CONFESSIONAL 1079.5

Judson, Lana (Public Relations Director: Juniper Ridge)

What’s it like being the youngest of six?[dramatic eyeroll]

I mean, my siblings are great. Mostly. Our mother still introduces me as “the baby.” Yeah, I know. I’ll be twenty-eight next year.

[sips from mug that reads “It’s too peopley here”]

You know what a director said on my last big PR gig before I left Hollywood?

“If I want some little girl to shove sunshine up people’s butts, I’ll give you a call, creampuff.”

Yes, I’m serious.

I gave him a helpful, alphabetized list of alternatives I would cheerfully shove up his butt.

* * *

“So, we all feel good about how the season wrapped?”

Big brother Dean snaps my focus off the notepad I’m clutching. That’s my cue to jump in. To sit just a tiny bit taller in my chair.

“I think we’re in good shape.” I tap my pink pen twice on my equally pink notepad. “Peoplemagazine calls it Hollywood’s strongest season finale.” Never mind that our show films literally a thousand miles from Hollywood. “The article hits newsstands tomorrow.”

My siblings nod like I’ve said something smart, and maybe I have. Only Mari looks worried as she tickles her infant son’s cheek. Count on our shrink sister to spot the elephant in the room.

“What’s public sentiment around…the incident?”

Ah,the incident.

“It’s like I’ve said from the start,” I begin, glad I’m on top of this. “Everyone loves a grumpy chef.” Admittedly, Chef Dal Yang calling a restaurant guest a twatwaffle might’ve gone a step beyond grumpy. “It helped that the guy reallywasbeing a twatwaffle.”

“Waffles.” Cooper looks up from his fidget spinner. “Anyone else want one of those stroopwaffles from the bakery?” He’s already out of his chair and headed for the counter. “I’ll grab six.”

“About the finale.” Dean drags us back to the business of running our little self-contained community. “That could’ve gone sideways fast. We’re lucky it was a jackass journalist and not another resident.”

“We certainly are.”Luckyisn’t the word I’d use.Skillsounds closer, but I’m not one to brag.

It’s true, though. My public relations magic made the jackass journalist back off before things got ugly. It wasn’t just that, though.

“You saw the footage.” I look at Lauren and Gabe, whofilmedthe damn footage. “I’m not saying the guy deserved to have a saltshaker upended on his head, but he was out of line.”

Lauren gives a curt nod. “I would have used the hot sauce.”

Of course she would. “Anyway, it’s over,” I continue. “Our ratings are good, viewers are happy, and Dal Yang’s got approval ratings up the wazoo.”

Thank God Cooper’s still at the bakery counter. He’d make some smartass comment about me wanting Dal upmywazoo, whatever that means.

Brothers suck sometimes.

My oldest consults his notes. “All right,” Dean says. “So on with the next season’s show arcs.”

The chatter shifts to filming schedules and new community members joining the show. I take copious notes, but who am I kidding?

My brain’s still stuck on Dal. About what set him off that day we filmed the finale at his restaurant, Serenade. Some pipsqueak reporter from a shady online news outlet showed up saying he’d spill the beans on how Dal’s brother wound up in a wheelchair.

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