"Nicki Minaj?" Mikki scoffed. "Bullshit."
"I swear on my kitten's life," Sasha said, applying glittery purple eyeshadow to Mikki's eyelids.
She usually avoided glitter like the plague, but Sasha was an artist, striking just the right balance between carefree and sophisticated.
"You did makeup for a world-famous female rapper and now you're working for a second-rate reality show?" Mikki watched Sasha in the vanity mirror. "What happened? Did you steal one of her wigs?"
Sasha laughed. "Nicki's my girl. Behind all the glamour, she's just a down-to-earth person. She would never fire someone over hair."
"Then why aren't you still working for her?"
"The tour ended. And when I heard the next Bachelorette was gonna be a sista, I signed right up. We're making history here."
"If you say so..." Mikki said. The pressures and demands of this "historical" position were not lost on her. When she'd first been introduced as the Bachelorette, her Twitter account exploded. Along with the congratulations and praise, came racist rants and threats of what was to come if she chose the "wrong" guy. She had considered closing down her account, having no means to block the cyber harassment, but just chose to stop reading the tweets altogether.
"I'm just grateful you're here," Mikki said sincerely. "l'd be bouncing off the walls if it weren't for you. I need a haven away from all the testosterone."
"Oh, I'm more than happy to step in if you ever need a break from all those fine men."
"Slow your roll, it's not that serious."
The two women shared a laugh, lifting Mikki's heavy mood. Her steamy interactions with Steve had her feeling all kinds of guilty, while the erotic dreams only added to her more physical frustrations.
"Who's got you daydreaming?" Sasha asked out of the blue.
"Huh?" Mikki asked, surprised her attention had wavered. Leave it to Steve to scatter her brain.
"Is it Terence? He's a definite frontrunner, in my opinion. Handsome, successful, kind - what more could you ask for?"
Mikki wished she could tell Sasha about Steve. The makeup artist had become a friend and confidante in the short time they'd known each other. But fraternizing with the crew or producers was a breach of contract and she couldn't risk the discovery of her naughty secret.
"Please don't say Ronnie," Sasha continued. "He's fine and all - those legs, that smile - but he's a bonafide player." She applied a light dusting of red blush to Mikki's cheeks.
"Just because he's got game doesn't mean he's a player," Mikki said, happy to think about someone other than Steve. "He's well-educated, confident and has a great sense of humor. And he's ready to settle down."
Sasha shook her head. "I knew it."
"What?" Mikki tried not to move her lips as Sasha painted them with a wine-colored lipstick.
"You've been bedazzled by the swag."
Mikki sniggered, not sure she'd heard her right. "Bedazzled?"
"Yes. Ronnie's got you sprung."
Mikki rolled her eyes. "How can I be sprung? I just met the guy."
"Hence, the power of the swag."
"You're giving way too much credit to him and way too little to me."
"Uh huh..." Sasha said.
And then Mikki thought about Steve. Realizing how many times she'd replayed the details of their last kiss - the softness of his lips, the hardness of his body - she suddenly felt like an idiot. Maybe Steve was the one with the swag.
"What about Steve?" Sasha asked, putting the finishing touches on Mikki's eyeliner.
"Steve?" Mikki squeaked, her eyes wide. The heat rushed to her cheeks.
Sasha crinkled her brow. "What does he think? He's supposed to be like your sounding board, right?"
"R-right," Mikki said, stuttering for the first time in her adult life. She'd had a pronounced stutter in grade school and had worked for years with a speech therapist to suppress it. It only took one mention of Steve to bring it to the surface.
Sasha stood with both hands on her hips. "Spill it."
"What?" Mikki asked, donning her best poker face. "There's nothing to spill."
Sasha smiled knowingly. "I thought lawyers were supposed to be good liars."
Mikki again debated whether she could trust Sasha. Before joining the Bachelorette, she had promised herself that she would let her heart - not her head - lead the way. She decided to follow her instincts.
"You can't tell anyone," Mikki stressed. "I mean it." She held out her pinky. "Pinky swear."
"Swear," Sasha said, locking pinkies with Mikki.
"We kissed," Mikki said finally.
"What?" Sasha bounced up and down. "When?"
"The night before I met the men." Mikki closed her eyes. "And right before the rose ceremony."
"Oh shit!"
"Steve could lose his job over this, so you seriously can't tell anyone."
"I know how to keep a secret, Mikki." Sasha smirked. "Do you know how many women around here have been trying to hit that since Steve got a divorce?"
Guilt reared its ugly head yet again. Along with a little pride.
She'd initially considered whether Steve was a player who just enjoyed seducing the star of the show. Maybe he'd made out with all of the Bachelorettes before her. But even as the thought crossed her mind, her gut instinct revolted against the idea. Cross-examining witnesses on a regular basis had made her a good judge of character. Steve wasn't that type of guy.
"Just make sure Sarah doesn't find out," Sasha said.
"Of course not. A scandal between the host and star of the show would definitely put a wrench in her plans."
"And she's got it bad for Steve."
"You're kidding me."
Sasha shook her head.
Mikki let the gravity of Sasha's words sink in. Sarah controlled the show, which meant she controlled Mikki's image. The last thing she wanted was to get on the producer's bad side. And yet, Mikki was enraptured with Steve. Could she just let him go?
Somehow, the uncertainty and danger of the situation made her want Steve even more.
#
"Right," Steve answered absentmindedly, having completely missed the tail-end of Sarah's response.
Crew members buzzed around like worker bees, hastily setting up equipment and refreshments. They mirrored the chaos in Steve's mind.
"Make sure to get an interview with Noah before the game starts," Sarah said.
"Got it," Steve said. He already had plans to interview all the guys before the game started. He didn't understand why she was singling out Noah.
He and Sarah stood on the edge of a grassy field in a sports park. Mikki had played competitive sports in college and chose a sports challenge for the first group date. The challenge would help her evaluate the guys on their physical fitness and ability to work cooperatively with others.
"What's going on with you?" Sarah asked, her crystal blue eyes full of scrutiny. "You're acting really weird."
"I'm fine," Steve said with more bass than he'd intended. He softened his voice. "I just didn't get much sleep last night."
Fine
was a bit of a stretch, but the last bit was true. Sleep had been hard to come by with thoughts of Mikki and their steamy makeout session swirling through his head. Watching her interact with the other men last night - laughing at Noah's bad jokes, whispering in Kevin's ear, touching Ronnie lightly on the arm - had driven him to act.
Like some impulsive alpha male, he'd needed to kiss her, to taste her - to claim her. Steve had never been this drawn to a woman in his life. The magnetic attraction between them made him reckless enough to risk his career for a chance with her.
"Ok," Sarah said, squinting her eyes. "Just make sure to focus on Noah. I have a feeling he'll stir up trouble amongst the guys."
Steve frowned. "The guys are anxious enough as it is. There's no need to add fuel to the fire."
Sarah was notorious for playing mind games with the contestants, which had become a point of contention between the two of them. Last year, she'd set the stage for a fist fight between a boxer and a music producer, one of whom was sent to the hospital for stitches. He wondered whether the competition for Mikki's affection was making him more aggressive than usual.
Sarah pursed her lips. "It really isn't complicated, Steve. I've already gotten the ball rolling, I just need you to do your part to ensure that everything runs smoothly."
Steve found Sarah morally ambiguous at best. She had a knack for exploiting the emotions of the contestants to maximize the drama. Her skill inspired both awe and disgust in Steve. Unbeknownst to anyone but his son, Carl, Steve was a hopeless romantic. He'd even penned a post-apocalyptic romantic comedy under a pseudonym, though he'd lacked the courage to let anyone read the screenplay.
He believed in the premise of the show, that people could find true love in a short amount of time if they were open to it. Sarah wasn't the first producer he'd gone head-to-head with for trying to capitalize on a person's vulnerability for ratings. It was more than possible to capture drama without punching any of the guys below the belt. Taking on a producer role would be his first step in bringing this vision to fruition. But if he had any hopes of becoming a producer, he had to impress the Executive Producer first, which meant playing nice with Sarah for the time being.
A static-filled voice blared from the walkie talkie strapped to Sarah's hip. "The eagle has landed. I repeat, the eagle has landed."
Sarah unclipped the walkie talkie from her belt. "I heard you the first time, Dale."
Steve's heart did a flip at learning Mikki had arrived.
"Don't forget Noah," Sarah said to Steve before walking off.
Steve spotted Mikki across the field. She wore a black Adidas track jacket and black leggings with mesh panels exposing glimpses of brown thigh. Steve swallowed hard as she headed his way, grateful for the extra room in his loose track pants.
Mikki possessed a poise and timeless beauty that made lesser men aspire to greatness. He didn't know what feature of hers he liked the most: her dusky brown eyes, sharp cheekbones, heart-shaped face, or the smile that seemed to hold the secret of life itself.
Mikki stopped to speak with Sarah. Even from a yard away, Steve picked up on the tension between the two women. Sarah stood a little taller as she spoke and Mikki tilted her head to the side.
Steve walked over to meet Mikki as Sarah departed.
"Hey," Steve said, going in for a hug. He had no worries that others might read something into their contact. He'd always been a hugger.
"Hey," Mikki said, her voice lacking enthusiasm.
