Naomi & Bradley, Reality Shows... (Vodka & Vice, the Series Book 3) (11 page)

NAOMI

Tuesday, May 3rd

“You’re talking millions of dollars Naomi, are you sure this lover boy of yours is worth it?”  My half-brother Chase surprises me with his question.  I thought he’d be doing cartwheels in greedy splendor, not second-guessing my decision.

“Yes, dear, my son has a point.  Did you watch the last show?  They’re pressing Bradley to drop you, cut you out of his life, and become the next star of that bachelor show.  It’s got to be tempting for any man, the money, the fame, the women, and the travel to exotic places.  Chances are you’re throwing away your inheritance for nothing.”

I’m stumped.  I never expected them to argue with me, or frankly, to care anything about my future.  It’s flattering, and suspicious.

I feel my face flush red because I never considered the idea that Bradley might see Viktor on top of me, and publically break off our engagement.  Not without at least giving me a chance to defend myself.  For the first time I feel my faith in my fiancé slipping an inch.

“Bradley loves me.”  I state, hearing the insecurity in my own voice.

“More the reason to dump you then Sis.  Emotions lead to anger, then revenge, I know, it’s kind of my specialty,” Chase says, sitting down and pouring himself another glass of whiskey.

I don’t want to believe them.  I won’t believe them.  There must be something more to their reluctance that I’m missing.

“Are you afraid of Fedor Slotzky?  Is he Russian mob or something?”

They both laugh.  Guess not.

LaLa even removes her delicate little glasses and wipes her blue eyes.  “The mob?  What an imagination.  No dear, not that, but we do have a history of business ventures with the family.  This could all have repercussions.  And don’t forget Darren Broderick, he is an equal shareholder like you Naomi, what might he do?  It could go into a 50-50 split gaining us nothing.”

“What if I become a pest?  Show up at the work site every day, change their orders, boss the crew around, bring in drawings and ideas, and cause constant turmoil.  Maybe he’d give in and let Bradley come home just to get rid of me.”

“Or push you off a ledge.”

Chase says it quietly, but I hear the remark.  I glance at him.  He won’t look me in the eye.  What’s with these people?

Mob.  Not the mob.  Excited and greedy.  Concerned and troubled.

“I love Bradley.  I’ll do anything to just clear his name, get him free of that show, so we can start our life together.  I want to do this.”

I reach down and wave the paperwork around in front of them.  I’m giving them my ownership of all the Montauk, New York properties too.  It’s big and a small part of me hopes I’m not being naïve and foolish for love.

“You might reconsider.  If you’re broke, would Bradley even be interested in you anymore?”

“Yes dear, wasn’t he living off
you
?  Viktor told us you paid all the bills, you lived in
your
loft.  Now, you don’t even have a job and your name is soiled after that scene on the bed.  You might be left with nothing, have you considered that?”

I look back and forth, lost and confused after hearing their thoughts.

“No!  I love Bradley and he loves me!  Nothing on that stupid show is going to ruin that.  Take these papers, sign them.  Promise that after I give you everything your only chore will be to demand that Fedor Slotzky lets Bradley out of the shows, free of any arson charge, or you’ll change all his plans, delay the construction.  Please, just trust me.  Do this for me.  Support me on this.  If necessary we can threaten invasion of privacy.  I can file more legal proceedings against the network and involve Viktor in an assault charge.  Anything.”

“If that’s what you want, then sure, I’m with you.” Chase says pulling out a pen.

“I just want to see my niece happy, so I agree.”  LaLa takes the pen and I watch them both sign all the pages of legal paperwork.

That was a quick change, like a precision dance move, and it alarms me.  Still, I asked for their support, and they are giving it to me.

I sign.

I’ve just given away a fortune.

I don’t care.

I’ll do anything for Bradley. 

I trust him. 

I love him. 

I’m sure.

I feel giddy with happiness.  Now I have two powerful allies and soon Bradley will be free, unobstructed, and we can marry.

Everything is wonderful. 

At last, Bradley and I can be together again.

Friday, May 6th

Tonight is the night for the Model House show to be on and I’ve never been more excited.  I’ve spoken to LaLa and Chase and they assure me they’ve held several meetings with Fedor Slotzky.  After threatening him with delaying tactics over the high-rise renovations, he’s agreed to let Bradley leave the show early, forget about promoting him for the Bachelor, and drop any arson charges. 

It cost me a fortune but I’ve saved Bradley.  I hope tonight is the last night, for Bradley anyway.  I wonder how they’ll arrange it, say he’s ill, has another commitment, namely me, and our wedding.  I love him so much.  He’s going to be so grateful that I offered up my inheritance for him.  Money’s not important when a couple love each other as much as we do.

I dress in comfy jeans and a soft white blouse.  I look outside at the trees blossoming white blooms along the park across the street.  It’s so beautiful here.  Bradley is going to love our new home.  He’ll laugh that it’s a walkup and I’m elevator free now.  2nd Ave. Upper East Side.  800 square feet of space to love each other in.  We’ll decorate it with new and used things; make it our own place.

I waltz into my tiny kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine.  Tonight!  Maybe he’ll get released early and come home to me tonight!

Thank god everything worked out so well.  I was proud of myself.  After years of struggling, I’ve managed to give myself to a man.  I’ve learned how to trust him completely.  I feel glorious.  And safe.  And loved.

I plop down on my spongy sofa and flick on the TV.  The music plays, the credits roll, and the show starts.  OMG, Bradley!  It’s beginning with my fiancé.  I lean in closer and listen, wanting to hear every word he says.  He looks so good.  My handsome man.  My future husband.

“I love you Bradley.” I whisper to the screen.

BRADLEY

Friday, May 6th

We’ve been ‘filming’ all day and I’m beat.  I keep asking when we are getting to it, but no one has an answer for me.  Neither Tim Smith nor Jenn Ergenmeyer has been around since our talk.  I sent the papers back with another of the producers, a plump, pasty-faced man with soft brown curls and a seemingly endless wardrobe of Seventies band t-shirts.  He was wearing an ‘America’ tee the day I gave it to him.  Beige, with a picture of three Native Americans on it. 

“Cool shirt, bro,” I told him.

He just nodded and wandered off.  I think he might hate it here even more than I do.

I haven’t heard from anyone since then.  During dinner, Joeson keep nudging each other and laughing every time I say anything.  Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“You wanna let me in on the joke?”

Nothing.  I wait.  Finally, Paolo says, “It’s no joke, unfortunately, my friend.  We’ve heard something.  Well, I’ve heard.”  He gives a flirtatious little wave to the buffer of the two camera guys, who in turn blushes furiously. 

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.  Spill.”

Paolo looks genuinely sad.  “Tonight, before we wrap, they have, how you say?  Bombshell about that girl of yours.”

“What?  Those half-assed pictures?”

“Dirt, with a capital ‘D’.”  Mason adds.

I wonder what it could possibly be.  I thought I knew everything about her and as far as I know, there aren’t any skeletons in her walk-in closet, just shoes and way too many.

Paolo leans in and whispers, “I’ve been having amore with Sandy over there.  He is very chatty in between the sheets, ha ha.  Anyway, he tells Paolo this is going to be the biggest rating week so far, so I better get lots of screen time.”

My stomach drops.  Whatever it is, it’s got to be horrible, or they wouldn’t be springing it on me.  I’ve been going back and forth about what to do, half-believing the stories about her and Viktor and not half-believing.  It’s so hard, if I could just talk to her, I would know the truth.  If I could just look into those gray eyes, I’d see it.

The wolves enter, eyes glistening and grinning from ear to ear.  They look every bit like predators out for blood…Naomi’s or mine.  I make a quick decision.  I’ve got to pre-empt their strike.  Whatever it is they’re about to show the world, I have to squash it, even if it means risking losing Naomi forever.

I stand up and walk over to them.

“Brad!  We were just coming to talk to you.”  Tim Smith pulls out a folder.

“I want a confessional,” I blurt out.

Their smiles grow wider.  “Oh?”

“I, uh, I want to break it off with Naomi.  I need to be rid of that, that…”  It’s so hard to do but I have to sound convincing.  “I want to throw that bitch ass cheating whore out of my life.”  I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the stomach and my heart races.

“What changed your mind?”  Jenn Ergenmeyer is practically hugging me.  I think I detect a little nod between Tim Smith and Paolo, but everything moves so fast.  They badger me with more questions.

“Was it the video?  The photos of Viktor in her bedroom?”

“Yes, all of it.  I can’t believe what a lying slut she is.  I’ve only been gone a few weeks and she can’t keep her legs closed around my cheating asshole of an old friend.  For all I know, she’s probably doing his brothers and father.”

The other men laugh at this and I feel even more disloyal.  Probably that last part was unnecessary, but I got a little carried away.  This has to work.  If I can give them enough footage now, maybe they’ll forget about what’s in that beige folder.

“Well, guess what?  You don’t need a confessional because we just got all that on tape.  It airs tonight and then you’ll be free to do the Bachelor, just like we planned.”  Tim Smith slips the folder back into his briefcase. 

Jenn Ergenmeyer fluffs her purple hair and tells me to look straight at camera two. 

“Now we just need you to say, ‘Goodbye, bitch.’  And Brad, make it count.”

I can’t.  I just can’t do that to her.

“I think I’ve said enough.”

“Just one more thing, Brad.  We need the money shot, the cliffhanger, if you will.”

Still sounding like an asshole, buddy
.

Tim Smith starts to pull the file back out of his bag.  He stares at me, waits.

I screw up all my will.  This is fixable.  She’ll know it’s not real.  She has to.  What was that sign she was telling me about?  If I could do that, she might figure it out.  She already knows what awful people I’m dealing with here.  If I could just remember.

“Uh, Brad?  Buddy?  We’re not getting any younger here.  A few more minutes and these guys go into overtime.  Let’s get this scene in the can.”

The others are grumbling.  They want to be finished, too.

So I turn to the camera and say the words Jenn Ergenmeyer has fed me.  “Goodbye, bitch.”

As soon as I’ve said it, I remember.  The sign she talked about was Carol Burnett pulling her ear.  I pull at mine so hard I think it grows an inch.  She’s gotta see it.  She’ll know and everything will be alright.

As everyone disperses, the camera guys pack up their gear and Tim Smith confers with Jenn Ergenmeyer.  I sidle up to them unnoticed.

“Great take.”

“Money.”

“Ah, but Jenn, cut off that weird part at the end where he’s pulling his ear.  He looks like he’s having some kind of episode.  We’re never going to get bachelorettes if they think there’s something wrong with him.”

Shit.

Vodka & Vice, the Series

Book One
:
Naomi & Bradley It All Comes Down…

Book Two
:
Bradley & Naomi …To Me & You!

Book Three:
Naomi & Bradley Reality Shows…

Book Four
:
Bradley & Naomi …What’s True

The first two books in the series:
Available on Amazon now

Book One

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01F6BXGV2
 

Book Two

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01F7GH5TA