The (Wrong) Confession

Kristina should have been ready to destroy everything in a five block radius.

It was a truth that should have set her off. No number of pedicures, no length of massage by Swedish masseuses, no amount of five-star breakfast should have quenched her rage. It was the sort of thing that bards would have written songs about and sleazy agents would’ve optioned into a schlocky movie series.

And yet, Kristina was happy.

It was a sight that shook everyone who saw it to their core. Production staff, Bruce, Diane, even Elena raised an eyebrow at the sight. They had all grown used to the sense of put-upon-ness, the well-mixed combination of exhaustion and anger that she exuded off camera.

The pep in her step. The actual smile that looked unnatural on her face but a winning thing for the cameras.

It was the smile of a woman who was in love.

----

Kristina’s smile only faded when the production staff tried convincing her to wear high-end clothing again. It wasn’t even a sponsor push this time, it was just going to make her look overdressed and out of touch.

She couldn’t hold things hostage with killing a crossover this time. But thankfully she could pay for a cheap “I Love NY” shirt out of her own pocket and wear some shorts. Her black hair was still done as well as the hairdressers had left it. No use destroying their hard work.

Everyone eventually made their way to the address – an apartment building nestled out of the way. It wasn’t a terrible neighborhood but the buildings towering over Kristina reminder her she was a far way from home. She slipped into an elevator and started her ascent.

Kristina had to let the cameramen go ahead of her so they could get in position to get good entrance shots. On cue, she was told to exit out onto the roof.

On the roof was a phone hooked up to speakers blaring out showtunes. A small table had been placed with a covering, lined with every condiment and topping one could ever want for a burger. She could see a dozen men chatting around holding red cups. But the thing that hit her the most was the smell. Towards the far end of the roof was a man flipping burgers over a grill, his body mostly obscured by the smoke.

A very large, hairy man wearing a band t-shirt approached her. “You must be the lady of the hour. Welcome!” He called over to the grill. “Hey! Your lady’s here.”

All the other men howled with laughter as the master of the grill came out of the smoke. Kristina came face to face with Jules in a way she’d never seen before.

Jules was wearing an apron that read ‘King of the Meats’. He smelled of smoke and barbeque; his brown hair slightly matted to his forehead from sweat. But he smiled. “Welcome to the party.” He held up two plates filled with grilled patties. “Do you take your burgers with cheese or without?”

Kristina drooled at the sight. She didn’t know how badly she needed a man offering her grilled meats until that moment. But this was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen in her life.

In an instant Kristina assembled a double-decker cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, mustard, all sandwiched between two buns that had been toasted on the grill by request. It was enough to make Kristina cry tears of joy. After so much time having to beg the production staff to let her eat enough to maintain her muscles, this felt like the greatest burger she’d ever stuffed into her mouth.

If she wasn’t on a dating show, she’d take this man home and make him her grillmaster.

As she finished her first burger, a black-haired man wearing a shirt for a bookstore sidled up to her. “I’m so sorry to butt in,” he apologized. “But can I just say, oh my god. I love these kinds of shows.”

Someone had to. This man’s name was Sean; he’d apparently been there the night she’d first run into Jules. And he had a much different first impression of the man.

“Great wingman,” Sean said. “I cannot tell you how much he’s helped me out over the years. He helped me learn how to dance, which helped set me up with that cutie over there.”

He finger-gunned at a calm looking gentleman with a crop cut and wearing a tie ironically, sipping at his red cup and waving.

“He’s a bit shy,” whispered Sean. “But he’s so excited you’re here.” He waved Derek over, who eventually made his way over.

“You’re not his family,” Kristina asked.

Derek shrugged. “Not by blood.” He sipped from his cup again before gesturing towards Jules, who was still flipping burgers on the grill. “But that guy’s practically family to all of us here. If you need him, he’ll come.”

It was a similar story with each of the men Kristina talked to between bites of burger. Adjectives were used to describe Jules Maddow that she’d never have expected. Reliable. Courteous. Problem-solver. A glue guy. Not a single one of them had a negative thing to say about him. At worst, they’d talk mess about his job running him ragged.

Kristina kept watching Jules like a hawk as she fielded questions about the show to Jules’s friends. Against all odds, she found something worth her time and –

No. Noooooo. No.

Everyone was surprised when she slapped that train of thought out of her head. As she told them everything was fine, it kind of wasn’t. Because she wasn’t comfortable using that l-word.

----

As the sun start to set and the men started to clean up after themselves, Kristina and Jules were spirited away to film some B-roll for the show. It was random stuff – walking around the city, posing in Times Square, grabbing a slice of pizza. It was in those quiet moments that Kristina had to keep fighting that word.

That four-letter word starting with ‘l’. She had baser needs that she wanted satisfied after having so much of Jules’s meat. It stayed in the back of her mind all the way until they returned to the five-star hotel they had been staying at.

Diane was by the receptionist, making arrangements and occasionally glancing over as she stayed off camera. Kristina tried not to look; that attention hog Petey Pete was here in all his annoying glory and flashing a rainbow-colored suit.

“Kristina. Jules. Welcome back. I hope you both had a lovely night.” He smiled his stupid little smile. “Now, we reach a simple question. Kristina, would you like to invite Jules to your room tonight?”

There was no hesitation. No thinking about it. “Yes.”

That speed struck Jules by surprise – and out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Diane was too.

Petey Pete’s smile grew just a teensy bit wider. “Alright. You both have a pleasant evening.”

The camera crew stopped filming and went into the elevators. Diane came over and started taking off their microphones, lingering near enough to Jules for them to have a short conversation out of earshot.

Whatever they were talking about, the rest of it could wait until morning. The second she was sure the two of them weren’t micced up anymore, she grabbed Jules’s hand and sprinted for the stairs.

Jules was flung around inside the stairwell, being slammed into every wall as Kristina raced up each flight. Not that Kristina noticed or cared as long as her hand gripped his tight. With a wild grin, she kept climbing at a ludicrous speed. She would put cartoons a run for her money with the speed she was putting in.

In an instant, she was racing across the top floor and scrambling to get her keycard to unlock the door. When the light on the door turned green, she raced through the door and smashed Jules’s back against it.

“Alright,” Kristina wheezed. Her cheeks were beet red, eyes locked onto Jules’s. “Let’s see how you escalate past this.” She started moving in for a kiss….

Jules’s face was unmoving. “I was here for the money.”