Magic Mansion by Jordan Price (best fiction books to read .txt) 📕

“You know all the giddy thirteen-year-olds on the network’s message boards think Ricardo and Sue are an item.”

“Future fag hags.”

“Go home, Iain. Just go home.”

___

“The dining hall is empty now, save for the echoes of the laughter and voices of eight formidably talented magicians. And of those magicians…two will be eliminated.

“On the Gold Team, it’s spiritualist Muriel Broom versus The Math Wizard, Bev Austin. On the Red, it’s lovely Amazing Faye versus exotic Jia Lee.

“I’m your host, Monty Shaw. Be sure to cast your votes, and tune in next time, when the female population will be drastically reduced…in Magic Mansion.”

Chapter 26

PRODUCER’S WARNING

Though the previous night’s farewell dinner had been congenial enough, it followed on the heels of a shoot so long it had drained everyone giddy. That morning’s breakfast felt depressingly sober to John in comparison. Faye, who Jia had immediately embraced as a potential ally, was now the team member who needed to be voted out of the mansion to ensure Jia would stay. Faye had betrayed her winning team, and was now poised for elimination. And Kevin had simply drained a protein shake in two swallows and stormed away in the direction of the gym.

Strains of laughter emanated from the small parlor where the Gold Team congregated over coffee and bagels. John considered joining them. After all, it wasn’t like his presence was any comfort to Faye and Jia. And yet…did he really want to announce his lack of support by blowing off his teammates like Kevin had? No. Better to stay with the Red Team. Dismal as it might be.

High heels on parquet cut the thick silence as the producer Marlene crossed the ballroom. Red Team observed her approach in silence. “Where’s your fearless leader?”

“The gym,” Jia said. It sounded like a snarl.

“How are the three of you holding up?” Marlene asked. “Do you need anything? Aspirin? Self-tanner? A fresh pair of socks?”

“I don’t know,” Faye said. “Do we? I thought one of us was going home.”

“Spare me the melodrama, princess. It’s not as if all twelve of you were going to win the competition. If you don’t need a supply-run….” Faye, Jia and John shook their heads. Marlene planted her hands on her hips and considered them for a moment, and said, “Okay, then. We’re taping the announcement at eleven and going right into the first challenge. There’ll be running involved, so it’s low heels and activewear outfits.”

John expected her to leave and touch base with the Gold Team, but instead she plucked his sleeve and said, “Come take a walk, Professor.”

John kept Marlene in his peripheral vision down the hall and out into the yard, but he didn’t have a clue what it was she needed to tell him that couldn’t be said in front of his teammates. Unless she wanted a specific reaction out of him once the eliminated player was announced. He supposed he could manage that.

A dry wind played over the loose strands of Marlene’s messy up-do as she turned to face John. She hooked stray hairs out of the corner of her mouth, looked him in the eye, and said, “So this thing between you and Ricardo.”

Inside, John groaned as everything came crashing down. But he didn’t allow it to reach his face. He stared at Marlene unblinkingly until she saw he wasn’t going to react, and she went on.

“I get it,” she said. “Do you believe me?”

John narrowed his eyes.

“Reality shows are brutal,” she said. “With regular TV, game shows or sitcoms or dramas, there’s a point at which the camera shuts off. Not here. And, as a culture, I think we value our privacy—probably more than we know, since aside from extreme circumstances like hospitals or prison, most of us never need to experience life in a fishbowl. Because of that…” she wrapped her too-thin arms around herself and gave herself a squeeze… “you bond.”

John sighed.

“I know it’s hard,” Marlene said. “I know. But pretty soon we’ll be in the Final Four…and then one last big spectacle of a challenge…and it’s done. You take your trip to Vegas, you schmooze with Copperfield’s guys, you ride the fame wagon as far as it’ll take you, and you and Ricardo can see if you find each other anywhere near as fascinating out there in the real world. Don’t blow it now by getting caught with your pants down. Because if you do—”

“Where did you tape us together?”

“Sonofa—there’s more than one possibility? The prop room, John. There were night-vision cameras in the prop room. I deleted the footage before it went to editing, but let’s face it, there are twenty-four hours in my day just like everyone else’s, and in that time we shoot about two hundred hours’ worth of footage. I can’t screen it all. And frankly, I shouldn’t need to.”

“I understand.”

“If you don’t want to get lynched, stop pulling the rope out of your sleeve and handing it to the mob.”

“No, it’s…it was only last night.”

Marlene looked at him hard. “You’re sure?”

Was he? John’s time in the Mansion and the lengthy shoots were beginning to take their toll. “I think so.”

“Oh, hell.” Marlene shook her head. “You think some of the shit they put you through now is humiliating? Try adding a score. You could be out taking one of your lost-in-thought strolls around the estate—yeah, they’ve taped you doing that—add some dopey music to it, and you come across like you’re on the brink of senility. Or how about some clever editing cuts? Juxtapose a shot of you staring at Ricardo all goo-goo-eyed with one of him curling his lip at the sight of Kevin Kazan. Only it’ll look like you’re the one who turns him off, a dirty old letch pestering him with unwelcome advances. Ricardo is the audience’s darling. If you care about him as much as you say you do…don’t blow it for him.”

While John was delighted to hear that Ricardo was faring well with viewers…. “And going public about a