Page 16 of Idle

Rolling wheels against the granite floor provide the soundtrack as we move to the elevator bank. I approach Paige. “Hey, sorry I wasn’t able to save you a seat out there.”

“No worries! I enjoyed getting to know Bo.”

The way she says his name, as if he were some long-lost piece of art deco that will complete the entire room, makes me want to vomit. But I don’t let my disgust show. I’m here to work my ass off, win this competition, and put the banking world behind me. Whoever Paige wants to spend her time with is of no concern to me. Xander and Theo pounded this into my brain.

Paige and I enter the same elevator cab and ride up to the twenty-fifth floor in silence. When the door opens, we’re in the foyer of an apartment. I’ve heard of apartments where the elevator does this but have never experienced it before. It’s disorienting.

I turn to Paige. “This is really swanky. I’ve always wanted an apartment where the elevator opens into it. Very cool.”

Page shrugs. “It’s like the set-up for my parents’ apartment, only smaller.”

My shoulders sag. Of course Ogden Hansen’s family would live in such luxury. I mumble, “Bet their view is of Central Park too.”

“It is.”

My eyes slam shut as I absorb her flippant response. No, not flippant, rather matter of fact.Remember our differences.

We’re spared having to talk further when Quinn grabs everyone’s attention. Standing in the middle of the living room, she says, “Welcome to your new home! For the next six weeks, you all will live in what we’ve dubbed the ViewPad. We renovated this apartment specially for you, with some special upgrades.”

She looks at each one of us as she continues. “Cameras and microphones are in every room except the bathrooms and patio. Please keep in mind your every move will be documented and could potentially be used during an episode ofNYC Views. Don’t let this overwhelm you or prevent you from having normal conversations with your partner and others on the show, though. We want to provide our viewers with a complete picture of how each team operates, not only when they’re working.”

Way to start things off with a bang. I vow not to share anything I wouldn’t want the whole world to know, because apparently, they might. Since Diana’s death, I’ve become adept at keeping my lips shut.

Quinn continues, “This is the living room, and over there are the kitchen and dining room.” She points toward the quartz and stainless steel renovated kitchen, complete with ten bar stools around a massive island with a waterfall edge. I presume the dining room is tucked behind. “Bring your luggage and follow me for the rest of your apartment tour. We’ll start in the bedrooms.”

We walk down a hallway where two doors parallel each other. “On this side”—Quinn points to the right—“is the women’s dormitory, and that side is the men’s. Go on in and check out your new digs. I’ll be waiting right here once you’ve claimed your beds.”

I follow Robbie and Frank into the men’s bedroom, where three sets of bunk beds and six small dressers greet us. Robbie perks up. “I’m on the top.”

“You know,” Frank replies. “Why should anything be different just because we’re going to be sleeping with four additional men?”

Their repartee makes us all laugh, and the ice is broken. We spend the next ten minutes claiming our bunks—I select a lower one in the corner farthest away from the window, in the hope that the city’s noise won’t be as jarring. Dan chooses the lower bunk across the way from me.

I’m opening a dresser drawer near my bed when Bo does a three-sixty in the center of the room. “Who’s going to get lucky and have me sleep on top of them?” His southern twang makes his question seem that much more absurd.

Dan and I exchange glances and focus on unpacking our suitcases rather than responding to the annoying Bo. “Don’t all volunteer at once.”

Realizing he’s not getting a response, he sighs and slaps his hands on his thighs. “Eeny, meeny, miney, mo. You win!”

Afraid to look, but knowing there’s no excuse not to, I force my attention to the cowboy. Who’s pointing at me.Crap.

Bo wheels his Tumi luggage over to me. “No other man can claim the privilege of having me sleep above them.” He glances at Frank and Robbie. “No offense, guys.”

“None taken,” Robbie replies.

Bo claps. “There. It’s settled. I’ll try not to make too much noise for you, okay Daisy?”

At his use of such a pejorative nickname, I bring myself up to my full height. Eyes equal with the cowboy, I warn, “Name’s Jesse. Use it.”

Playing it off as if he was only joking, he shoves the back of my shoulder. “Lighten up there, Daisy. Only joshin’ ‘ya.”

This guy is going to be a fucking pain in the ass. Knowing better than to engage with the jerk, I bend down and finish unpacking, trying to keep his sighs and grunts out of my Zen. I’m not here to make friends. I’m only here to win this competition and get my own show.

And prove to my parents that this is a solid career path, not some flight of fancy.

6

Paige

---