Page 15 of Home Grown Talent

“Do you enjoy it?” Owen asked.

“Enjoy what?”

Owen smiled at Mason’s confusion. “Your work—modelling and… the other stuff. Is it fun?”

“Fun? Well, no, not really.” This time Mason really did roll his eyes. “Modelling is actually hard work, you know? We don’t just laze around all day admiring ourselves in the mirror. I mean, there are worse jobs, but it’s not exactly fun. Whose job is fun, though?”

Owen wasn’t sure how to answer. He loved his work, although maybe ‘fun’ wasn’t the right word. Rewarding described it better. Even when it was physically demanding and the weather was crap, he loved being outdoors in people’s gardens, nurturing things, watching them grow and thrive. It gave him real satisfaction, real pleasure. “I could definitely do without the paperwork,” he admitted, which was true.

Mason looked surprised. “Don’t tell me there’s something in Saint Owen’s life that isn’t perfect.”

Saint Owen?

“Trust me,” Owen said. “There’s plenty in my life that isn’t perfect.”

In that moment, their gazes met and held, and it felt weirdly intimate, as if they were connecting in a new way. Misty and Naomi had their heads together, while Tag was deep in conversation with Aaron. It almost felt like he and Mason had come here together, as partners.

And then Misty whipped back towards them, bursting into their little bubble with an excited exclamation.

“Oh my God, Mason! I’ve just had the most brilliant idea!”

Mason turned away and the moment was over. “It must be good to get you this excited,” he said to Misty, half-laughing. “What is it?”

She wagged her finger between Mason and Owen. “You two, together. Gardening.”

Owen stared at her, at a loss. “I’m sorry, I don’t… What?”

“On the show!” She pressed her hands over her chest. “It’s perfect. Gardening is so big at the moment—and it’s really great for mental wellbeing—I mean, look at you, Owen. Gardening saved your life!”

Saved his life? Owen frowned and opened his mouth to contradict her, but she was already moving on.

“I’ve been desperate to get it into the show in a way that’s relatable to our audience, you know? No more old, posh, straight, white men going on about their bloody herbaceous borders—instead we have young, hot guys bonding over growing produce together. This could be so perfect. Owen, you’re a real gardener. I love the authenticity of that. And Mason is just like our audience—completely clueless.”

“Sorry,” Owen said, holding up his hand. “What are we talking about here?”

“A regular gardening slot on Weekend Wellness—you sharing basic gardening techniques with Mason that can help everyone get outside and get in touch with nature, and Mason doing what he does so well—looking insanely pretty.”

Bemused, Owen shook his head. “No way, I’m… I couldn’t be on telly.”

“Why not?” Misty whined. “You’re perfect. I’m not looking for glamour, Owen—Mason can bring that—I’m looking for something you can’t fake. Something real. Real knowledge. That’s what our viewers want. They want to see ordinary people, diverse people. Gardening’s often seen as a middle class, middle-aged thing, right? But you’re neither of those, and of course you two are—well, it’s perfect.”

“I’m sorry,” Owen said. “But you’ve got the wrong brother. Lewis is the TV guy. And anyway, I really wouldn’t have time. My business is—”

“We’re only talking about a ten-minute slot a week,” Misty interrupted. “It’s no more than a couple of hours’ commitment, max. And obviously, we’d pay you. Obviously. I don’t ask talent to work for exposure. Not on my shows.”

“Yeah, but I’m really not—”

Misty ignored him. “Lewis,” she called across the table, interrupting Lewis’s conversation with Toni and Geoff. “Tell your brother he needs to agree to be on my show.”

Lewis looked up. “To do what?”

“A weekly gardening-for-wellbeing spot with Mason,” Misty said with relish. “Don’t you think that’s an awesome idea?”

“With Mason?” Lewis grinned at Owen. “That is an awesome idea. You’d fucking love that.”

Owen glared at him.

“The gardening, I mean,” Lewis said, his grin widening. “Fuck, yes. Do it. You could be the next Monty Don. Only gayer.”