Page 12 of Forever is the Sweetest Con
“I’d love to be proven wrong,” I throw in, for good measure. “You’ll just have to find me the right guy.”
“We’re on it,” Gabby says, grinning. “We’ve got some amazing guys on board.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink. Tyler smiles and says, “Ha ha,” but he doesn’t really laugh.
“Tell me more,” I say, coyly. “In fact, tell me about the show in general.”
“You’re gonna love it,” Tyler says. He runs both hands through his hair. “We’ve done tons of market research, and the concept is testing super high with the focus groups.” Gabby nods along in agreement. “Imagine the summer camp of your childhood—campfires, games, singalongs—but with sexy singles looking for love.”
“Oh, okay, that sounds—”
Tyler jumps in. “But it’s not all fun and games, like those other dating shows. We’re talking tricky situations, real tests for the couples to see how strong their connections actually are.”
“Absolutely,” Gabby says, bobbing her head. “It’s easy to fall in love when things are perfect, but we want our couples to form deeper bonds based on trust formed through facing real challenges together.”
“We pitched it asLove IslandmeetsSurvivor.” Tyler looks pleased with himself.
My brain says “What the fuck?” but my mouth says “Wow, that sounds incredible.”
Gabby tugs on Tyler’s arm. He leans down, and she whispers something in his ear. He nods.
“We’re still finalizing details with the network,” Tyler says, turning his attention to me, “but our goal is to start shooting in ten days, with the first episode airing in twelve.”
“That’s possible? To get a show on air in two days?” I try to infuse my voice with a sense of wonder, which I hope will cover up any hint of suspicion. Because that sounds if not impossible then at least implausible.
“Absolutely,” he says, in a way that implies that he thinks I’m an idiot. “We want to be as close to real time for the audience as possible. Ourcrew is the best in the biz, and they’ll be working around the clock to get it done.”
“Great,” I say, smiling like the team player I need them to believe I am.
“So you could be ready to go in ten days?”
Ten days. A week and a half to blow up my life.
“Absolutely.”
Satisfied with that answer, they ask me to stand, walk, dance around a bit. I do it all without letting my smile slip. I’m killing it. I bite my lip and toss my hair and arch my back. I giggle, flirt, pout. I can and will jump through whatever literal and figurative hoops that they put in front of me if it means I get a chance at that cash prize.
“Beautiful, beautiful,” Tyler murmurs.
“Beautiful,” echoes Gabby. “You can have a seat now, we’ve seen what we need to see.”
They’re looking at one another intensely, as if they’re communicating without words. Tyler tilts his head, and Gabby gives him a small nod. She retrieves her phone, and turns it face down on the table.
“Look, Cleo,” he says, leaning forward. “I’m going to be straight with you. We’ll have to run this past a few people, but we’re basically at the top of the food chain here, so I think it’s safe to say you’re exactly what we’re looking for.”
“I am?”
“Absolutely, right Gabs?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Just a couple of logistical things—you’ve got a passport, right?”
“Yes.” A harmless lie. I could get a passport.
Tyler claps once, startling me. “We’ve got themostamazing international location. It’s so sick, you’re gonna love it.”
I’ve barely left the five-mile radius between my mom’s house and the bar for half a year, so the thought of going beyond that circle of sadness is exhilarating.
“You’ll have to sign an NDA.” Tyler’s voice ticks up, like he’s asking a question.
