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“Right,” I said, stretching my lips again in that fake smile. It felt like the meeting was coming to a conclusion without any of my questions being answered. Nothing had been clarified. There was no real information at all—just smoke and mirrors—and it was completely antithetical to the way I was used to working. Every fiber in me wanted to pin Baz down and get a proper answer from him. But I could feel Nico beside me practically begging me not to fuck this up for him—and I guessed this was probably just how TV worked. Fake it till you make it, wasn’t that what they said about Hollywood? Or was that Silicon Valley? Either way, it was a long way from the world I knew—faking anything at all was the polar opposite of good science.
“Well”—Baz looked across at the colleague sitting next to him and raised one eyebrow, and when she nodded, he turned back to the camera—“I think we can safely say you’ll be joining us on the island in a couple of weeks.”
His words gave me a jolt like an electric shock. First of all, I hadn’t agreed to this yet. This was only supposed to be a chat. Second, a couple of weeks? I shot a panicked look at Ari, and then at Nico, but he was looking excitedly at Baz, who was still speaking.
“My assistant Camille”—he indicated a blond girl sitting far back, almost out of frame, who leaned forward and gave a shy little wave—“will be in touch about booking flights and so on, so keep an eye out for her email. We’ll be flying into Jakarta and then travelling by boat to the actual island, and I assume Ari’s shown you the pictures? It’s my mate’s place—brand-new, you’ll be the first-ever guests to stay there, and words really don’t do it justice.”
“It looks incredible,” Nico said, very sincerely.
“Ari, Camille will send over the contracts and confidentiality agreements today,” Baz said. “Are you happy for her to contact Leela and Nico direct about the flights? We really need to get booking those, and she’ll need their passport numbers and all that bullshit.”
“Sure, sure,” Ari said expansively. “Camille, just drop me a line and I’ll hook you guys up.”
“Great. And in the meantime, Leela, Nico, get picking out your favorite bathers. We’ll see you in paradise!”
“See you in paradise!” Nico shot back, his grin almost wider than his face, and I heard my own voice, like a pale echo repeating the phrase, with a good deal less conviction.
“See you in paradise.”
And then the screen went dark.
There was a moment’s silence. Then Nico turned to look at me, his face alight with enthusiasm.
“Well? What did you think?”
“I think that all went incredibly fast,” I said a little edgily. “It was only supposed to be a chat, but everyone, including Ari, seemed to think it was a done deal.”
“Well, hey.” Nico looked a little flustered. “I mean… nothing’s signed. But are you seriously going to turn this down? I mean, God, this is the real thing! We’re going to be famous—properly famous! Think about what this would mean for my career!”
“I am thinking about that,” I said. “That’s the only reason I was on the call. But didn’t you get a bit of a weird vibe from Baz?”
“From Baz?” Nico was taken aback. “What do you mean? I thought he was great.”
“Really? I thought he came across as a bit of a…” I stopped, struggling to find the word. “I don’t know. A bit of a chancer?”
The truth was, though I wouldn’t have said it to Nico, on the call he’d reminded me of Ari, Nico’s agent, who talked a very impressive talk but who somehow always had an excuse for why the money hadn’t come through, or he hadn’t done some very simple thing that Nico had asked. Nico had signed with him straight out of acting college on the promise of TV, riches, and stardom. Seven years later, Ari had yet to deliver anything more impressive than a few walk-on roles and a minor speaking part in Holby City, all of which I was fairly sure Nico could have got on his own. His much vaunted but never specified “contacts” had never seemed to come through—until now at least.
Because this was the thing: on paper, One Perfect Couple seemed to be the real deal. It was major, it was telly, and it had come about through one of Ari’s contacts. Okay, there was probably no money involved—unless Nico won, which seemed statistically unlikely. But if the format caught on, there was every chance of this raising Nico’s profile considerably and I had to give Ari props for that. There was just something about the whole thing that didn’t seem right.
“A chancer?” Nico looked at me like I was mad. “In what way?”
“Well…” I scrabbled to try to remember one of the warning bells that had gone off during the call. Effing Productions. Calling me Leela. I didn’t think Nico would care about any of those and I certainly couldn’t say that he reminded me of Ari. “Okay… for example, what do you think Baz meant about selling it to Real TV?”
“What do you mean?”
“When he was talking about us being an authentic couple, he said, that’s what’s going to sell it to Real TV. But I thought they’d already sold it? Ari made it sound like it was a done deal. Their flagship show and all that.”
Nico waved a hand.
“You’re reading too much into it. It’s just a figure of speech. He probably meant that’s what Real will like about you and me.”
“I guess. I just… I don’t know. I was surprised no one from Real was on the call.”
“They’re busy people, Lyla. I mean, let’s be clear, they’re setting up a whole new TV network! It’s not surprising they don’t have time for meetings about flight times.”
“Ugh.” I stood up and walked to the window, staring out over the grimy rooftops. There was a dead pigeon lying in the gutter opposite and I turned away. “I just… I want to be supportive, Nico, I really do, but I just wish they’d answered a few more of my questions.”
“Look.” Nico came over to me and put his arms around me. He pressed my cheek against his chest, and I could feel how much he’d been working out, presumably with the prospect of One Perfect Couple in mind. “Look, Lyla, this isn’t your comfort zone, I get that. TV’s weird. It’s not science-y types dotting every i and crossing every t—there’s a lot of shifting parameters and building the plane on the fly. But it’s not as seat-of-your-pants as it seems from the outside; there is a process to protect everyone involved. There’s contracts and legalese and all the stuff that’s Ari’s job to worry about. That’s what I pay him for—he’s got years of experience and lawyers coming out the wazoo. He’s not going to let us get caught up in anything that’s not kosher.”
