Sweet (10 page)

I sort of want to strike up a conversation and advise her to ditch the
Teen Vogue.
I mean, why's she torturing herself? Even a size 0 would feel depressed after reading that rag.

But the Bach. The Bach calls.

I'm working the piece backward, the way Mrs. Sandstrom wants me to.

There's this tripping little phrase.

I just work it. Repeat. Bee dee-dee-dee. Bee dee-dee-dee. Bee dee-dee-dee.

I should apologize to the girl listening, but I didn't ask her to sit near me. And I really want to nail it. Bee dee-dee-dee. Bee dee-dee-dee. Bee dee-dee-dee. I go for speed.

“Whoa!”

I look up.

It's Tom Fiorelli, and for some reason, he is holding a tray with a white teapot and a cup and saucer on it.

“That is some serious guitar playing.”

He's grinning at me.

Damn blush. It spreads instantly. I can feel that my face and neck are turning beet red.

“It's Bach,” I say. “I mean, it's just one phrase I'm having trouble with. From Bach.”

“It sounds … well, it sounds insane, but I'm sure the rest of the piece is really awesome.”

“It is!” says the girl. “And she plays it really good.”

“Hi, oh, hey! We met yesterday, didn't we?” Tom says to the girl.

“You interviewed me! I'm Claire,” she says. She's grinning broadly at Tom.

“I remember.”

While he's not looking my way, it's easier to study him.

It takes some time to get used to seeing someone in person you've only ever seen on screen.

It's hard to explain how handsome this guy is.

It starts at the eyes, which are light hazel, and fringed by impossibly dark lashes. Thick eyebrows. His skin is tan, with a trace of stubble at the chin.

“I got a message from my friends. They totally saw me on TV! They said it was awesome,” Claire says.

“Cool. Well, tell them I say hi,” Tom says to the girl and turns back to me.

His hazel eyes are twinkly, glittery.

“So I made this for you,” he says, setting down the tray on the small table next to my chair. “It's fresh ginger tea with honey and pepper. Whenever I'd get sick on set, they'd make me this in craft services. It really helps to settle your stomach. I thought it might help.”

He made me tea?!

“That's really nice of you,” I say.

I stand up and lift the lid of the teapot. The spicy smell of ginger comes wafting up.

We're standing pretty close. Almost too close, but it would be weird to sit down now.

Claire is peeking over the top of her lounge chair, like a little kid in a restaurant booth.

It makes me blush harder.

“How did you make it?” I ask. “Did you go in the kitchen?”

“No,” he says. “I asked my room steward to bring me hot water and ginger with my breakfast.”

“Oh,” I say.

(I should say something besides
oh.
)

Why can't I think of anything to say?

“Well, it's really nice of you.”

“Thanks,” he says. He sticks his hands in his pockets.

(Think of something to say, Laurel!!!)

“Well, I hope you feel better,” he says.

“Thanks,” I say. “You're nice.”

(I am an idiot! Be interesting! Say something real!)

“Thanks,” he says.

He looks somewhat bemused.

I hear a digital lens
click
and see that Claire's taken a photo of us on her iPhone.

It seems that every embarrassing moment I have with Tom Fiorelli will be in the public eye.

Claire's probably about to tweet our conversation. #SoluGossip. #TomFiorelliAndSomeLoser. #SheCan'tHoldARegularConversationWithAGorgeousGuy.

Tom looks at my face and reads my expression.

“Hey, Claire, can I ask a favor?” he says, flashing her a smile. “Could you delete that picture? Laurel's not really into that social media stuff. Instead, let's take one of us together.”

Claire beams at her idol. “Sure! Really? Okay!”

Tom crosses to her chair and takes the phone from her.

“I have longer arms!” he explains.

He holds his arm out, slightly above them, and takes a shot.

“You always want to shoot just slightly from above,” he tells her. “This is something I've learned. Makes you look tough.”

They're both relaxed and smiling.

“Nobody's tougher than us,” Claire jokes.

“That's right. Tom and Claire, swaggin' and braggin'!”

They take another shot, trying to look tough.

Claire is giggling so hard she nearly drops the phone when Tom hands it back.

“My friends are going to die!”

Tom turns back to me.

“So, I hope you feel better,” he says.

“Yes,” I say. “I will.”

“Cool,” he says. “It's … it's okay I brought you the tea, right?”

“Okay? Yes. Super-yes. It's probably the nicest thing a guy has ever done for me.”

“Well, that was too easy. I'll have to try to top myself next time.”

Eep. Um. Blush. Tingles. (I am a mess.)

“Okay. Good.”

Claire is just watching us like we're a movie or something.

“See you two!” he calls as he walks away.

“Thanks for the selfies!” Claire says.

Claire and I watch him walk around the side of the ship until he's gone.

“He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my whole life.” Claire sighs.

I sit down.

“Yeah,” I say.

I feel like I'm a little bit high. And it's not from the ginger-scented steam rising from my teapot.

 

TOM

DAY THREE

THAT'S MY A GAME.

Not that I'm playing the girl. But I like her. So if I like her, then I'm going to show up and let her know.

I have a feeling Derek would approve.

*   *   *

The day's interviews are weird.

Tamara has me changing clothes all day. I've literally worn four different shirts. I understand about getting coverage, but this is a little ridiculous.

Tamara's also lined up gorgeous people, almost exclusively.

“Don't we want to show some real body types?” I ask her. “I mean, these people all look like they don't even need Solu. Don't we want to see some transformation happening?”

“Almstead wants some segments with very pretty people saying that Solu works. I don't think that's unreasonable,” Tamara says.

She grooms my hair, spraying some sea salt stuff in it and tousling it.

“What we need now is a generic open for a segment wrapping up Day Six,” Tamara tells me.

“Day
Six
? Why?”

“During the fifth and sixth days, the ship will have limited satellite access. It will take a very long time to transmit the footage, so we're shooting some extra coverage. The editors are going to put it together as a fail-safe.”

I catch Cubby's eye. He shrugs.

“Day Six? That just seems wrong,” I say.

“Please, Tom. This is what our client wants.”

“So I'm going to lie?”

“You're an actor,” she says, as if I need reminding. “So act. Roll tape.”

“I'm Tom Fiorelli, coming to you from the decks of the
Extravagance.
It's Day Six of the Solu cruise, and wow, we have seen some powerful transformations on board! Take a look.”

My mouth feels oily.

I signal for them to cut.

“What will they go to?” I ask, thinking of the editors. “We don't know what people are going to look like on Day Six.”

“They're going to do shots of skinny girls swimming in the pool, if they have to. We're just prerecording so they have backups. It's not a conspiracy, Tom. Lighten up.”

“Okay, Tamara. It's just not good television.”

“Sabbi Ribiero is fine with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“We're interviewing her this afternoon and she's agreed to say it's Day Six.”

I roll my eyes.

Sabbi Ribiero is probably getting paid a million dollars to be on board. She'll say whatever they want.

Me, I'm getting paid $250K for this whole gig.

And I guess I'll say whatever they want, too.

“Speaking of Sabbi, her people are wondering what the hell is going on. Sabbi was very upset you didn't join her for dinner last night.”

“I was with you at dinner! We ate with Almstead.”

“Her people are pissed. Are you doing this or not?”

I shrug.

“Well, I hope you make up your mind by five p.m. That's when we shoot her.”

*   *   *

We do a set of poolside interviews and people are really wild, pushing one another in the pool behind me, and photo-bombing. I guess they're all drunk.

The partiers are not just the teenagers on the ship; I see a bunch of older people, too. Thirty-, forty-, fifty-year-old guys ogling the younger girls. Cougars on the prowl.

Everyone is in a great mood.

I'm talking to three middle-aged Australian women in bikinis. They're raving about Solu. We have to shout to be heard over the crowd.

“It's amazing!” a bleached blonde says, grabbing my mike.

“You wouldna believe how much weight I've lost!” another yells, reaching across me to get the mike. As she reaches, her bikini top straps slide off her shoulders. Momentarily topless, she screams. They all scream in delight.

The woman hauls the top back up.

“That's what I'm talking about!” she yells. “This fit me two days ago!”

“Wow!” I say. I laugh. “As you can see, Solu is working almost too well here on the pool deck of the
Extravagance
!”

The three women are hugging me and kissing me and screaming about Solu.

I hear “cut” and I mouth to Tamara,
Get me out of here!

*   *   *

I get a break, which I need.

I go to the gym and work out hard.

Sometimes it's the only way to clear my head. Just lift until the endorphins cut in.

Like Derek says, you're going to be addicted to
something
. Might as well make it something that's good for you.

I should call him, but I need to relax.

No, that's not true.

I don't call him because he'd ask me about Sabbi.

And I still don't know what to do about her.

I keep thinking about Laurel, but hey, I just met the girl. And anyway, the Sabbi thing is just for the press.

After a shower, I dress for the interview.

Sabbi is one of the most beautiful girls in the world. I should be psyched.

I try to be.

*   *   *

They've set up a cabana on a balcony on a lower deck.

Sabbi's there already. She looks picture-perfect. She should, with her team of hair and makeup people.

I see one of the guys—I'm guessing he's gay—reach into her bathing suit to arrange her bust. Rich is talking to her and no one even bats an eye, while this wardrobe guy is getting her cleavage just so.

Gotta love this industry.

“Hey, Sabbi,” I say, sitting down next to her. “How's it going?”

Sabbi's hair and makeup people and Rich all back away.

“Fine,” Sabbi says. “Except I thought we were going to hang out.” She bites her lip.

“Totally,” I say. “Yes, I'm sorry. These guys keep me jumping all day. They've got me way too busy.”

“Well, we've got plenty of time on the cruise, yes?”

She leans over and straightens my collar.

I see Rich snapping shots on his iPhone.

“I've always thought you were so cute, Tom,” she says. “I'm really excited to get to know you.”

Her giant brown eyes are looking up into mine and I find that I'm starting to relax. She seems genuine.

Tamara comes up.

“So, it's Day Six and everything's gone amazingly well,” Tamara reminds me, and Sabbi, I guess. “We just want to hear about how great Solu is. You have to use your imagination a bit, but just go with the idea that Solu has delivered past everyone's wildest dreams.”

Whatever.

Sabbi nods. “I can do that!”

“And … we're rolling,” Tamara says. “Tom, whenever you're ready.”

“Hey, everybody, Tom Fiorelli here on Day Six of the Solu Cruise to Lose on the
Extravagance.
Man, the time has
flown
by! It feels like just yesterday I was saying it's Day Two!”

That's for Tamara.

“I'm here with Sabbi Ribiero, one of the stars of
Teens of New York.
Sabbi, can you believe the cruise is almost drawing to a close?”

Sabbi wets her lips and gushes, “Tom, this cruise has been life-changing for me and so many others. We girls, you know, we worry so much about what we can eat. We have to watch our figures for you men!”

“Actually,” I say. “I think you have that backward. We watch your figures for you!”

She swipes at me playfully.

“Well, what I'm trying to say is that all that worrying, all that obsessing about weight—we don't have to do it anymore thanks to Solu.”

“We have seen some significant weight loss,” I lie.

“Everybody is looking fantastic! I mean, I'm seeing fifty-year-old men and just a few days ago, they were looking pretty porky, and now I'm like, who is
that
?!”

Wow. She's amazingly good at this. She just sold all the men in America on Solu.

“Sabbi, what about the cruise itself? The service? The meals?”

“Oh, the food, the porters, everything. They've done an amazing job. I will never go on any cruise ship besides the Lux Line in my life ever.”

The cruise people are going to love that.

“So what's your favorite thing about Solu?”

There's a gleam in her eye as she answers.