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Now Wil pressed her fingertips under her eyes.
Lucía Gomez, a PA who Wil had met earlier who had a long, high ponytail, perfect deep red acrylics, and an earpiece, came to the door. “They’re ready for you.” She took in Wil and came to an abrupt halt, frowning. “Shit. Do you need makeup?”
Beanie and Wil laughed, and Wil sniffed and stood up, shaking her head.
Wil followed Lucía’s swinging ponytail upstairs. There was a mark she was supposed to stand on. There were other marks taped to the floor to show where she had to walk, where she would pause for Busy to get up and hug her, and where she should stand for a minute for the first back-and-forth exchange of greetings and a joke before she sat down.
She’d been here all day. She hadn’t been alone with Katie for longer than a minute since they were interrupted yesterday on their hike. There had been at least half a dozen people moving in and out of Katie’s house at all times—Katie’s personal staff, April’s agency staff, Madelynn’s agency staff, folks Honor sent over—and conversations Wil could only halfway follow about messaging, contracts, and unions, although she kept up the best she could, fascinated to have this glimpse of Katie Price’s life in high gear.
Finally, Wil had wandered off to sleep in one of Katie’s guest rooms when it became clear sometime north of 2 a.m. that Madelynn and April wouldn’t be leaving, and Katie didn’t intend to go to bed.
Tomorrow was Christmas. Wil couldn’t imagine who watched late-night TV on Christmas Eve, but Madelynn said it had been one of the highest-rated nights the last two years on Busy’s show, and the point wasn’t the viewers anyway. It was getting Wil’s story out there so that people could read the highlights and watch clipsfrom the interview on the new phones and tablets and laptops they got for Christmas.
The biggest hurdle, according to Madelynn, was the sit-down between Katie and Busy that Wil hadn’t been a part of, where Katie tried to make Busy understand what was at stake and asked Busy if she truly wanted to put her own capital into those stakes. Katie had chosen Busy over everyone else because she believed she would get it, even if she couldn’t do it.
But Busyhadwanted to do it, and Wil hoped that gave Katie some confidence in owning a big part of her own life.
She toed the mark on the floor. They’d let her wear her own motorcycle boots, although someone had whisked them away to be oiled and conditioned and shined up. The lights were hot. There was a studio band backing an extremely young singer-songwriter who’d already performed her single and was now covering Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” with a lot of style.
Wil really hoped this wasn’t a mistake.
But as soon as she had the thought, she realized she would be okay even if it was.
It was a funny thing. She’d spent so many years nerving herself up to make any decision at all—big ones, small ones—but now that she had, she wasn’t worried about what would happen next.
She was just so glad she’d gotten herself here.
The song finished. The audience applauded, and then Busy was saying her name, talking about her and her TikTok channel, and Lucía gave Wil a little shoulder push. Wil followed the tape path onto the stage, smiling at Busy, careful not to look at the floor, careful not to trip, careful to keep her hips loose and look casual and keep it cool.
Busy opened her arms. Wil hugged her. She smelled amazing. Wil hoped that when she inevitably sweated through this shirt, it wouldn’t show.
Clapping and smiling, Busy bounced up and down. She wore anadorable short-sleeved green dress with a pink belt, and her blond waves were loose around her shoulders. “I’m so excited to meet you!”
“Thank you! I’m excited to be here,” Wil said.
“I’m such a big fan! I follow your TikTok. I’ve watched your kissing movies a million times, like a million, million times. I have sometimes watched them in the bathtub?” She leaned closer to Wil and stage-whispered, “Do you understand what I’m saying? Am I being perfectly clear, Wil?”
“I get you,” Wil said with a wink. “You’re not the only one doing that, from what I hear.”
Busy made her eyes big. “I am not. I did a poll of all of us on the set. Wil, I askedeverybody. Everybody’sdoing that.”
Wil laughed. She’d already heard this joke, but that didn’t keep the flush from crawling up into her cheeks. Her heart was pounding. Busy pushed on her shoulder, a light tap like they’d just shared a funny moment together, and Wil remembered she was supposed to sit down. She flopped onto the blue sofa next to Busy.
Sit up straight. Sit at the edge of the cushion. Face your body forward, but keep your torso angled toward Busy. Keep your chin up. Don’t fiddle with your clothes or your hair. Don’t interrupt. Wait for the audience’s reaction. Smile.
“Okay, so, Wil.” Busy gave her a coy look. “You’re from Wisconsin.”
“I am. Green Bay.”
“You’re from Green Bay, Wisconsin, and so are most of these people you’re kissing, so that’s my first question. Where are you finding all these hot people in Green Bay, Wisconsin? Should I be moving there? Should America be paying attention? What’s going on with that, Wil? It’s almost alarming.”
The audience laughed, and Wil held her smile and didn’t rub her sweaty palms on the thighs of her designer army uniform kneepad pants. “I wouldn’t have thought so when I started myproject, but coming up with two people to kiss every week makes you look around at other people in a very different way.”
“Yeah, I can feel that.” Busy flattened her hands over her chest, her blue notecards with her prompts and questions stuck between her fingers. “Tough job.”
“Interesting, too, because it turns out when you’re reallylooking,there are a lot of completely, incredibly kissable people where you least expect them. I asked my hairdresser to kiss me. This guy who cleans gutters. I even propositioned a dude at the DMV, although he turned me down.”
“He turned youdown?” Busy made her eyes wide again. “He turnedyoudown?”