Chapter Twenty-Nine

Marlon’s assistant Todd choked on his coffee when Ginger walked up to his desk. “You, too? Aren’t you all supposed to be in Paris?”

Ginger stared down her nose at him. “I had a family emergency. Is he in?”

“Well…yeah.”

A long silence followed. Ginger butted into it. “Can you let him know I’m here?”

Todd glanced back at Marlon’s shut door. “He’s in a meeting.”

“I’ll wait.” She marched to the couch on the other side of the starkly lit, mid-century modern reception area. Taking a seat, she willed herself not to lose the momentum that had brought her here. Anise had been right. Ginger had never backed down from a fight, and she’d never had so much at stake. Her career. Her heart. Her future was on the line. Keeping her job would be simple—she trusted Matt and Kat. They would never go to Marlon about her and Elliot. Leaving Paris had been unorthodox, but emergencies happen and her boss would forgive that. The bigger problem was getting Elliot off the show.

Ginger, Anise, and her sister’s attorney husband Paul had been up until three a.m. Saturday poring over Elliot’s contract. Line by line, they’d dissected it. Short of a crippling injury, death, or dismemberment, which rendered him unable to fulfill his end of the bargain, there was no way to stop its inevitable ending. All the other clauses, such as death of a family member, only provided an option for delay.

Ginger would be forced to go with the nuclear option. Marlon would listen. He would believe her. He trusted her. Elliot’s season was a disaster—nothing like they’d planned or hoped for. He’d see reason and call the whole thing off. He had to.

Ginger had spent a lot of time thinking in the days and weeks since she leapt across the divide in the limousine about what it was about Elliot that made her risk everything. Ironically, she kept coming back to the three Cs: communication, compatibility, compromise.

They were so good at it. They were perfect for each other. He was her person, and she was his. But she’d freaked out after the night at the Hilton, and she’d put herself first. Her job. Her pride. Until that fourth, pesky C had reared its ugly head and changed everything.

Chemistry was a bitch.

Her last few days at home had been an exercise in missing him. The way the hollow of his throat smelled like soap and cedar. The way his hands left a glowing warmth on her skin as they’d skimmed her body, the sound of his groan hitting her eardrum, sending vibrations down her spine. The passion he put into every word and action.

She was an idiot for not responding to his emails after the Hilton when she’d known she had more than a “soft spot” for him. She’d wanted him. But her feelings at the time had been “maybes” while the show had already gone all in.

However, he wasn’t married yet.

As Ginger waited for her chance to battle it out with the producer of 'Matched' for Elliot’s fate and her job, her phone rang. Her eyes narrowed when, once more, Kat’s photo filled the screen.

She sent the call to voicemail, along with all the other calls Kat had made. While Ginger might trust Kat not to tank her career, she wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t hate her. Ginger was in the process of weathering the usual disappointment that came after a phone call that wasn’t from Elliot when Kat followed up with a text.

Stop ignoring my calls. Jenna left the show. Everything’s bats hit crazy. I get why you left—I mean—we could use your help, but I get it. Anyway, I wanted to give you a heads-up. In case she goes to Marlon.

Jenna left? Ginger’s gaze flashed to Marlon’s closed door and, for the first time, she registered Todd’s surprise. There was no way Jenna was the one in the meeting with Marlon. Was there?

Only one way to find out. She marched straight for the door, ignored Todd’s feeble protest, and turned the knob.

Marlon sat behind his executive desk, elbow propped on the arm of his chair, his glazed expression turning to one of intrigue when he spotted her. Across from him, with her back to her, sat Jenna, weeping, shoulders shaking, a wad of tissue in her hand. She turned quickly at the sound of the door opening, eyes wild at the sight of Ginger.

“See? Ask her!”

Shit.

On the car ride to the office, Ginger had built this meeting up in her mind as her last stand. She’d planned to use her insider knowledge of Elliot’s plan to outwit the show with Cassie to convince Marlon he’d muddy their track record with another failed relationship, which would look terrible if it followed immediately on the heels of Jenna dumping Eric. Their audience would lose faith. They’d be over. A joke. In Ginger’s delusional dream world, she’d convinced herself Marlon would call off the season. She’d save her job, she’d free up Elliot, and she’d have a chance to really have it all.

But Jenna had beaten her to him. How had she known?

“If you’ll excuse us, Jenna. Ginger and I have a lot to discuss.”

“Yeah.” Jenna’s tone was vicious as she stood without even a wobble in her four-inch heels. “You do.”

“I’d like to remind you that if you disclose anything that happened during production, we sue. We’ve done it before.”

Jenna didn’t flinch at the warning. “Your show won’t need my help to be a complete disaster this season. If you’re looking for the reason, here she is. Maybe you can sue her, too.”

Ginger erased her face of all emotion and stared stoically at the half-unhinged former star.

“Did you have fun? Screwing him behind all our backs? Did you want to sample the merchandise before it went off the market?”

It took some willpower, but Ginger managed to hold Jenna’s gaze and not glance over at Marlon.

“What happened? He decided you weren’t good enough to throw his entire life away on?”

At that, Ginger blinked, her certainty about Elliot’s feelings for her taking a direct hit.

“Jenna, don’t make me have to call security,” Marlon said. “I’ll deal with this.”

“You better—or I won’t give a fuck what the contract says.”

She stormed out, flinging the door behind her so hard it slammed the wall.

Ginger took a steadying breath and a cautious glance at Marlon.

Lips pressed flat, his expression was grim. “Why don’t you close the door and have a seat.”

She did as she was told, taking her time while her brain worked overtime to reconfigure her goals for this meeting. Marlon may have been fond of her, but business was business. And Hollywood could be hell.

She sat. Hands shaking, she clasped them on her knee as she crossed her legs. “I can explain.”

“She’s not making it up?”

“I don’t know what all she told you—”

“She told me you and the best star we’ve ever had were seen ‘canoodling’ on a number of occasions.”

“A number of occasions?” Ginger doubted that. She also took some issue with the “best star they’ve ever had” nonsense. Working with Elliot had been like having dental surgery. Except, of course, when it hadn’t been.

“Let’s stick with the canoodling, and we can move on to how often it happened once we’ve established it happened.”

“Look. I don’t know what she told you, or what she thinks she saw—”

“Hold up—hold up. Did you not storm into my office without an appointment while I was meeting with someone else when you’re supposed to be in Paris?”

“I apologize for not calling first.”

Marlon batted the apology away like it was a buzzing gnat. “Is there, or is there not something going on between you and Elliot?”

“Not,” she said with concrete certainty. “Anymore.”

Just when he’d been about to look relieved, he transitioned straight to pissed.

“At any rate, I thought it was best for me to leave production so I would be less of a distraction.” Since the cat was out of the bag, Ginger forged forward with the truth. Surely there was some way she could use it to her advantage. Elliot’s failure to perform was the issue at hand, after all. “Here’s the thing, Marlon. Elliot and I—we did hook up once after last season—before we’d signed him to come back—”

Marlon gaped at her, incredulous. “You knew we wanted him back.”

“Nothing was set in stone.”

“You know how this works, Ginger.” His eyes narrowed in on her like a lie-seeking missile. “Just once?”

If Ginger had known what Jenna had told him, it would have been easier to make something up on the fly. The only time she’d ever been out in the open with Elliot was in the Redwoods, and Jenna had only been a theory at that point.

“Because of our history, there was some…lingering chemistry.”

Marlon folded his arms across his chest, tension and fury building in the bunching of his shoulders. “The truth, Ginger. Spit it out.”

She couldn’t. The truth hurt, and she’d hit a wall. She couldn’t make the words come out. A lie or otherwise.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll assume the worst.”

She nodded. He might as well…

Marlon finally spilled. “Jenna met with The Panel at the Hacienda the night before we filmed her return. She went to the guesthouse to surprise Elliot—”

Ginger couldn’t help it. “Excuse me? She what?” That sneaky bitch.

“She saw him with someone. Was it you?”

Getting nailed against the wall? Why, yes. It was me, Marlon. Could she not tell?

She should have listened to Lavonne about those blackout curtains.

“You’re fired.”

Sucking in a breath, Ginger accepted her fate.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” she admitted. Truth was refreshing.

“I was planning to promote you.”

“I know.”

“So—why?”

“I’m in love with him.”

Marlon took a page from Kat’s book. “Dammit, Ginger. You’re not in love with him. He’s a player. You let him play you.”

She didn’t need to justify herself to this man. She knew what she wanted, how she felt, who she was. Now more than ever. She stood, readying herself to leave.

“His contract has so many clauses Jesus Christ himself couldn’t get out of it, and he knows it. The contract is the reason the show works. Because people have to deal with their shit—they can’t walk away when they hit a bump in the road. But you know what happens along the way. People get nervous. You saw it with Jenna—and remember Brandon? His jitters were legendary—he slept with half the PAs. But he’s married to Sabrina now and they couldn’t be happier. They’re expecting, you know?”

Ginger tried to get a grip on her grinding jaw. “You didn’t fire the PAs,” she reminded him. “You even gave Amber a promotion.”

“Amber wasn’t Brandon’s producer. Amber didn’t let herself get caught by one of the women on the season.”

True. Amber had been a one and done, and the only people who’d known about it were the field producers. Even Ginger, a control room assistant at the time, had only found out after production wrapped.

“You did the right thing by leaving,” Marlon conceded with a heavy sigh. “I hate that it has to come down to this.”

“It doesn’t,” Ginger said. “You can release him from his contract.”

Marlon considered her briefly. Too briefly. He dismissed the absurd notion with a flick of his wrist. “I can’t do that. We’ve invested too much. But I’ll take back the firing if you’ll resign.”

It was a pretty generous offer, but it still came with the heavy, sinking sensation of failure. “He’ll ruin the show, Marlon. He has a whole plan.”

Marlon held up a hand to shut her up. “It’s too late, Ginger. You know that.”

Of course she did. Her Hail Mary attempt was just that—a desperate shot in the dark. It had been too late the second Elliot had put pen to paper.

“It was worth a try,” she said quietly. “I’ll go clear out my office.”

“Do it next week when the crew’s back in town. It’ll give you a chance to say goodbye.”

The full impact of the loss hit home—the life she’d built for herself crumbled in the space of a second. She gave Marlon a stiff nod and turned to leave.

“Ginger?”

She stopped, hand already on the doorknob.

“You can do better than Elliot Hale.”

She opened the door and glanced back at her former boss. “With all due respect, Marlon—you wouldn’t know a real love story if it was staring you right in the face.”