Page 40 of The Holiday Games

Ainsley giggles. “I’ve never had beef jerky, but sounds like a plan. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“See you tomorrow, Trevor. Great work today,” I say as Ainsley and I move toward the exit. Lowering my voice, I tease, “You’ve really never had beef jerky before? Do I need to give you ‘the talk,’ young lady?”

Ainsley blushes even harder. Her cheeks are Mrs. Claus crimson as she glances quickly over her shoulder, ensuring Trevor is out of earshot before she spins back to me to hiss, “No, I haven’t. And no, you don’t. We’re just friends going to the movies. That’s it!”

I grunt. “Right. I’ll slip a box of condoms in your purse just in case. Safety first.”

She rolls her eyes with a long-suffering huff, but surprises me by muttering, “Okay. Fine. That would probably be good. You know I was raised super Catholic. I’m too mortified to buy them myself.” She points a slim finger at my chest. “But nothing weird or ribbed or flavored or whatever. Just the basic, normal kind, wrapped in a brown paper bag.” She glances over her shoulder again before adding, “And not too many of them. If he sees the box, I don’t want him to think I’m a weirdo.”

“He wouldn’t think you’re a weirdo,” I assure her, oddly proud of my shy protegee. “He’d be thrilled, but I understand. I’ll keep the entire thing very discreet.”

“Good,” she says, exhaling a soft laugh. “Thanks, boss.”

“You’re welcome,” I say. “And don’t overthink things between now and then. You like him, he likes you, and you’reboth lovely people. It’s going to be easy, the way these things should be when you’ve found the right person.”

A hopeful smile curves her lips. “I hope so. That would be nice. Eduardo and Bingo actually seem like they’re a good fit, too. They stayed up until midnight jumping on the trampoline in Bingo’s apartment and playing old records. Then they fell asleep on a giant beanbag with all the dogs snuggled around them. It was so sweet and romantic.”

“You have footage of all that?” I ask. “That sounds like reality television gold.”

“I do, and it was. They’re going out again on Thursday, after the third challenge. Eduardo made plans to stay in New York even if he got cut from the competition. I think there’s a real spark there, and he’s over his clown phobia once and for all.”

“Get two cameras on them for the date. Make sure we have multiple angles,” I say, a hint of guilt creeping in to tighten my chest.

I should have a camera on Caroline, too, filming what she’s up to when she’s not watching movies with Millie. It would be good for the show and for helping the audience get to know her better as a player.

But revealing our connection would be problematic. And selfishly, I want her all to myself today for the super special private tour of New York we didn’t have time for on Sunday.

Still, I need to get something on camera featuring the good girl from Vermont…

Inspiration striking, I ask, “You said Jenna spent yesterday looking for dirt on Caroline?”

Ainsley nods as we shrug into our coats by the door. “Yeah. She used a search engine I’d never heard of before. It was kind of creepy actually. She found Caroline’s social security number and some of her medical records.” My brows shoot up, but Ainsley hurries to assure me, “But she didn’t seem to have plans to stealCaroline’s identity or anything. When she was done, she seemed frustrated. Apparently, Caroline is ‘the world’s most boring human.’ Her words, not mine.”

“She’s not boring,” I mutter. “She’s the furthest thing from boring.”

“I know! She’s charming and funny,” Ainsley agrees. “And so compelling on camera. I couldn’t look away from her today. Honestly, she could be a movie star or host a morning show or something.”

Relieved to hear I’m not the only one falling under Caroline’s spell, I say, “Agreed. But this could be good. Confrontation makes for compelling television. Can you find an organic way to let Caroline know what Jenna was up to before the cast is dismissed for the day?”

Ainsley nods, her eyes narrowing as her wheels begin to spin. “Yeah, I can do that. Eduardo was in the café with Jenna when she was doing her stalking yesterday. He didn’t seem thrilled to be her confidante when she started venting about how little dirt she was able to find. I’ll go put a bug in his ear.”

“But subtly,” I warn her as she starts to go. “We’re not scripting or forcing things, just giving the drama a gentle nudge.”

She lifts a reassuring hand in the air. “Trust me, boss. I’ll keep it classy.”

That’s what we’re aiming for—a classy, family-friendly competition—but it’ll be good to have a little drama in our back pocket in case our acquiring network wants to lean into the conventional reality tropes. That’s the great thing about reality programming. You can edit the footage to tell a wide variety of stories, manipulating the raw material to fit your desired end result.

It’s a little slimy, sure, but that’s the sea I swim in at the moment.

It makes me ache for my sketch comedy days with a longing that’s visceral. By the time I fetch a black coffee from the craft services tent, my gut is in knots.

Or it could be the stunned look on Caroline’s face as Eduardo whispers to her in the corner that’s turning my stomach. I feel like an asshole for causing her a single moment of pain or discomfort, but…this is my job.

It’s another reason we can’t consider becoming more than friends until all this is over.

Hell, we probably shouldn’t even befriends.

Friends don’t set up friends to fight with scary goth women on national television. As soon as we wrap for the day, I should tell Caroline that Leo’s Magical Mystery Tour of New York’s Secret Local’s-Only Hot Spots is cancelled until December Twenty-Third, when filming is finished.

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