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Behind Rachelle, one of the TV crew members said, “Remember to ask that other thing, Diana.”
Diana sighed for a split second, as though she really didn’t want to do this. Then she looked Rachelle dead in the eye and said, “I can’t help but feel you have a distraction here at the restaurant.”
Rachelle’s jaw dropped. Immediately, she felt betrayed and out of her element. “I’m sorry?”
“Your flirtation with the server,” Diana stated. “I believe his name is Eddie?”
Rachelle’s heart pounded. “I hardly know Eddie.” In many ways, this was true.
“Just make sure it doesn’t obstruct your work here at The Clam Factory,” Diana warned. “I’ve seen many promising young women like yourself fall in love—and off the map. Eddie isn’t a black hole, per se. But you have better things to think about. You have a career.”
Rachelle’s mouth was terribly dry. She had a nightmare image of the future when she, her grandmother, Darcy, and her mother would watch this episode. She wanted to seem strong in the face of this. But she felt so small.
“Listen,” Diana said, lowering her chin. Rachelle couldn’t tell if she was acting now. “I’ve been there, you know. The handsome guy at the restaurant. The allure of a summertime romance. Don’t let it throw you off your mark. Don’t go the same way I did.”
Just then, there was a crash in the kitchen. Paul screamed at Benny, telling him to watch where he was going. Immediately, the camera crew headed out into the kitchen to catch the commotion on camera. One of them said, “Can you guys do that again? We didn’t record it.” Paul groaned as Benny cackled. “Anything for you!” Benny said sarcastically.
Rachelle remained in front of Diana’s desk. Diana wasn’t looking at her. Don’t go the same way I did. Her words continued to ring in the air between them. Rachelle could already imagine them becoming a central theme in the episode.
Very quietly, Rachelle asked, “What was that about?”
Diana still couldn’t look at her. She began to leaf through her notecards, where she’d scribbled ideas for recipes and ingredient lists. She looked lost.
“I mean, what about Ryan?” Rachelle demanded before she could stop herself.
Diana stopped rummaging and took a deep breath. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Rachelle stared at her, stunned.
“The TV show is working an angle,” Diana said, snapping to her feet. “Just roll with it.”
She walked out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Rachelle sat, defeated, as Paul screamed at Benny in the kitchen. Although she knew he was faking it this time around, it sounded way too real.
It felt like living in a nightmare. She couldn’t wake up.
Chapter Eight
The second episode of The Nantucket Factory was more of the same. The general vibe was The Clam Factory had a long way to go if it was going to be successful. And Rachelle and Diana’s rivalry and Rachelle and Eddie’s budding romance were getting in the way of progress.
Rachelle, Darcy, Estelle, and Sam watched from the coziness of The Jessabelle House as, on TV, Diana “yelled” at Rachelle for things she hadn’t done in real life. They watched as Rachelle worked tirelessly yet inefficiently, as Eddie and Rachelle supposedly made eyes at one another, frequently getting distracted from their work. It infuriated Rachelle, yet she still couldn’t stop watching.
In one horrible scene, the TV crew pretended that an entire table walked out of the restaurant when Eddie was too busy flirting with Rachelle in the kitchen to notice. This hadn’t happened at all. In reality, Eddie had entered the kitchen because he’d messed up a ticket, forgetting to say “no cheese” on a pasta dish that ordinarily took parmesan. The conversation had lasted no more than fifteen seconds. On-screen, it looked like a funny, romantic, many-minute-long flirtation session between Eddie and Rachelle.
“It’s killing me,” Rachelle said, rubbing her temples. “I might have to turn it off.”
“Oh, honey. It’s just a stupid reality television show,” Estelle said, pulling her close on the sofa.
“How many social media followers do you have now?” Darcy asked, reminding Rachelle of the ultimate prize. More followers and more fame meant more opportunities. It meant a brighter future as a chef. Hopefully.
“I gained ten thousand this week,” Rachelle confessed. “But Eddie has many more!”
“He flirts with the camera, too.” Sam pointed at the television with her Twizzlers as Eddie gave a tour of the Nantucket Harbor for the cameras, whipping his hair around.
“And there’s really nothing going on between you two?” Grandma Estelle asked.
“Grandma! No. I told you,” Rachelle said.
“It just feels so real,” Estelle said with a sigh. “I love watching you fall in love on-screen.”
