Page 41 of Playing With Matches
“That’s enough,” I snap at the photographer after he’s taken enough shots to do a documentary. “Go take pictures of something else now.”
“Perfetto, Bella!” Marco kisses Isla’s cheek again and releases her. He’s still standing directly in front of me, between her and me. I step sideways and shove my way past his beefy bicep, to perch on the barstool beside her.
Alexis’s whole face is animated as she looks from Marco to Isla to me. It’s like she’s doing a whole play-by-play report with her eyeballs, eyebrows, nostrils, and lip twists. I can practically hear her thoughts..
“Marco is fawning over the beautiful British romance novelist. She seems a bit surprised by his attentions. But who can object to shooting selfies with this hottie? Could Isla Fairfax and Marco be the hottest match to come out of Peaches this summer? But wait, why is Jackson Porter scowling and shoving Marco out of the way?”
Alexis winks at me and grins. I know she’s enjoying every second of this celebrity-studded scene. Rob could not have cast a better pot-stirrer.
“What can I get you, Marco?” Alexis speaks in her sexiest, most provocative podcast-host voice and bats her lashes at the buffoon.
“How about some sex on the beach?” He smolders at her.
Rob, who is standing behind Marco and Isla, swiftly catches my eye and rolls his own.
It’s comforting to know I have at least one ally, and it happens to be the most powerful guy on the production team.
“Don’t forget you were getting me something, too,” I say. “I’ll have a Perrier with a splash of grapefruit juice.”
Alexis wrinkles her nose at my request.
“Perdone. But, who are you?” Marco turns and waves a hand at me, as if I am one of the infernal mosquitos. His hairless chest is jutting into my face, nipples pert, pores perfected. I can’t help but notice he doesn’t have a single bite mark on his perfect flesh. Probably because he is not, in fact, human.
“Marco, this isJackson,” Rob says, mouthing a silent apology to me over the beefcake’s shoulder. “Remember I told you about him?”
“Right, right,” Marco waves a hand and turns his back to me again. “The, how do you say it,geek squad?”
Alexis stifles a giggle and places Marco’s drink in front of him. “One second,” she holds up a finger as she slowly unfolds a paper umbrella, garnishes the rim with an orange slice, and drops in a whole cherry. “Now it’s ready.”
“Guys, I wanted to go over some pre-shoot notes,” Rob says, pointing at Marco and Isla. “Jackson, do you mind if I grab Isla for a minute?”
“Sure,” I offer, trying to ignore the overwhelming prickle of jealousy I’m feeling. Over what? Being left out?
“Here you go,” Alexis says, pushing my drink at me. “I made you a virgin mojito.”
Marco freezes and turns back to me. “Jackson is a virgin?” He announces loudly. “Not to worry; we can fix this. Marco is an excellent wingman!”
“I’m not a virgin; it just means there’s no alcohol in my drink!” I sputter.
I can see Isla and Alexis trying not to laugh. They’re not trying hard enough.
“Yes, yes, of course, my friend. Not to worry. Marco is here,” he taps the side of his nose and holds out a hand to Isla who politely allows him to pull her off her stool.
And then the three of them are gone. Alexis rushes to the other side of the bar to make some drinks for the cast members on the pool side, leaving me alone to steep in the muddled mint of my virgin mojito.
isla
“Nothing’s going to work if you don’t have the right attitude and put in the effort. You gotta stay focused. Committed. Eyes on the prize. You snooze, you lose.”
~ Jackson Porter, Playing With Matches Confessionals
Rob pullsus into the resort’s coffee shop and insists on fetching us both drinks before revealing what he wants to chat about. I get a latte. Marco orders hot cocoa. With marshmallows. His bare chest is dimpled with goosebumps from the chill of the air conditioning.
“Here’s the thing. I’m not saying you two actually have to get involved,” Rob stirs a little sugar into his tea. “I’m just saying, it couldn’t hurt the ratings if you two flirt a little, you know, for the camera. It’ll add a certain level of dramatic tension. This is reality TV, but there’s still an element of theater. I’m sure you of all people get it, Isla. You are amasterstory crafter.”
“So you’re saying we should fake a relationship?” I ask Rob.
“Not as such. I’m just recommending you two play up the obvious chemistry on camera. Imagine what a thrill this will be to your devoted fans. They want to believe in romance, and what could be more magical than the possibility that their favorite author is hooking up with their favorite cover model?”
