Page 8 of Home Grown Talent
And if that didn’t get them into the gossip mags, Mason didn’t know what would.
They toned things down once they reached the bar, both intent on doing the rounds.
Jay made a face as he sipped the inferior champagne being offered around on trays by a fleet of uniformed servers. “I think,” he said in a stagey, horrified whisper, “this may be Prosecco.”
He was joking. Maybe.
Mason smiled along and stuck with him as they mingled. Everyone wanted to talk to Jay, and it was a fantastic way for Mason to get introductions to the industry people who mattered. Dutifully, he listened and laughed at their jokes, concentrating on looking his best and, as always, conscious of the eyes upon him.
People were always watching him, drawn in by his looks. Usually, it was the only thing about him they noticed.
At least there was no sign of Lewis Hunter and his entourage at the reception, although Mason kept his eyes peeled for Misty Watson-King. Eventually, about five minutes before they were due to take their seats, he spotted her strolling into the bar. Mason murmured his apologies to the couple he and Jay were talking to, and threaded his way through the crowd to where Misty stood talking to a younger woman. Mason was surprised to recognise her as Misty’s latest intern—and personal dogsbody—Naomi.
“Mason!” Misty said, looking over as he approached. She was obviously pleased to see him, which was encouraging. Although perhaps she was just pleased to see a familiar face. “Look at you! Beautiful, as always.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You’re looking beautiful yourself this evening.”
Misty was a tall, slender woman, and tonight, she wore a floor-length, gold chiffon dress that Mason recognised as a last season Ralph Lauren, her ash-blonde hair cascading over one shoulder.
They bumped cheeks, air-kissing, and then Mason turned to Naomi. “You look lovely, too.”
“Oh.” Flustered, Naomi smoothed down her demure little black dress. “Thank you.”
He noticed that she clutched a tablet in one hand and carried a large bag over her shoulder. She wasn’t here to work, was she? That would be odd.
“I was looking forward to meeting your husband,” Mason said to Misty. “Couldn’t he make it?”
Misty made a face. “Stuck in Singapore in some arbitration thingy. Still, his loss is Naomi’s gain, isn’t it, Naomi?” She looked expectantly at her intern.
“Oh, yes,” Naomi said brightly. “It was lovely of you to bring me.”
Misty smiled complacently, then turned to Mason. “Your slot was very good this week.”
Mason turned back to her, his stomach fizzing in sudden excitement. “You think so?” He managed to hide his eagerness behind a nonchalant smile. “I’m really enjoying it. More than I thought I would. Marc is great, of course.”
“Marc’s solid,” Misty said airily. “But your little bit of off-piste flirting was enormous fun. I’d love to develop that in a more permanent way. Get a real buzz going around the show, you know? Although not with Marc, obviously. We’d need someone more, uh, in your league.”
That sounded hopeful. Carefully, Mason said, “So there’s a chance of something permanent on the show? That would be amazing.”
“We’re seeing some very positive feedback on our socials, Mason. Very positive. Obviously, you already have a substantial platform, which helps. You need a bit more experience in front of the camera. If we could just find something else for you to do with a wider appeal than male cosmetics…” She tilted her head to one side, considering him. “Let me think about it. I like you, Mason, and it’s important to me to work with people I like. I mean, at the end of the day, that’s what this show’s all about.”
Mason tried to play it cool, despite the flutter in his stomach. “Yeah?”
Misty continued, her expression earnest. “Wellness isn’t a gimmick to me, Mason. It’s a real passion. And part of personal wellbeing is recognising what matters to you and making mindful choices that give effect to that, right?”
She seemed to expect a response to that, so Mason nodded, saying slowly, “That makes sense.”
“Right. And for me, that means I need to work with people who I like and respect and who like and respect me in return. Naomi will tell you that I don’t tolerate negative energy in my people. Right, Naomi?”
Naomi, who had been frantically typing something on her phone looked up, startled. “Er, yes, right. Definitely not.”
“I totally get that,” Mason agreed, taking another sip of champagne.
Misty beamed. “I knew you would. I’m a very good judge of character.” She gave him a self-satisfied smile. “Yes, I think we’re going to get along famously, you and I…”
CHAPTER THREE
Owen