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“I have to talk to him,” I say.
“Hayes, no—”
“I’m going to tell him that having Brielle on the show is too big of a risk. For her career, for my integrity, for the show itself if the truth comes out.” I stand, determination hardeningmy resolve. “He’ll understand. It’s his job to protect the show’s reputation, too.”
Skye looks deeply skeptical. “Darren doesn’t care about reputations unless they affect ratings. And right now, your chemistry with Brielle is television gold.”
“I have to try.”
She sighs. “Fine. He’s probably in the onsite office now. But Hayes?” Her voice turns serious. “Be careful. Darren isn’t your friend.”
I nod, already heading for the door. “Thanks, Skye.”
The main production office is in the pool house, a short walk from the mansion. I shower and change quickly, not wanting to meet with Darren looking like I just finished a run. The whole time, I rehearse what I’ll say—how I’ll explain that sending Brielle home is the best solution for everyone involved.
Darren’s assistant eyes me with surprise when I walk in. “Mr. Burke. Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but I need to speak with Darren. It’s important.”
“He’s preparing for today’s shoot—”
“It can’t wait,” I say firmly.
She hesitates, then picks up her phone. After a brief exchange, she nods. “He can give you fifteen minutes. Go on in.”
Darren’s office is exactly what you’d expect from a reality TV producer—sleek, modern, with multiple screens showing different areas of the mansion. He looks up from his desk, not bothering to stand.
“Hayes. Making great TV so far. The execs are thrilled.”
“Thanks.” I close the door behind me. “I need to talk to you about one of the contestants. Brielle Wilson.”
“Ah, yes. The screenwriter. Great chemistry between you two last night. Those Ferris wheel shots were perfect.” He gestures to a chair. “What’s on your mind?”
I sit, gathering my thoughts. “I think it would be best if Brielle were sent home at the next ceremony.”
Darren’s eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me? She’s one of our front runners. The audience will already be invested in your connection.”
“That’s just it,” I lean forward. “You know our connection—it’s not entirely authentic to the show’s premise.”
“Oh, come on. You two had a moment. Big deal.”
I shift. “You know the other contestants will make it a big deal.”
“They won’t find out because they have no connection to the outside world.” Darren leans back, studying me. “Last night you couldn’t keep your hands off her. If you send her home, she’ll be done with you. You sure you want that?”
Yikes—no. He makes a good point. “No, I don’t. But this is getting ugly, fast. Brielle has a successful public-facing career. A scandal could ruin her.”
I don’t like the way his lips curve upward. “You’re concerned about her career.”
“Yes. And August—my son. I don’t want him exposed to tabloid speculation about his dad.”
“Noble,” Darren says, though his tone suggests he doesn’t believe my motives are entirely selfless. “But I’m afraid I can’t accommodate your request.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because, Hayes, you clearly care about her and might end up with her—the end goal of this show, by the way. Your chemistry with Brielle is off the charts, and the viewers will be obsessed with you two.”
“But if the other women find out—”