Shit. Damn. Hell. Fuck. I slam the egg dish into the sink and run hot water. This is going to be so much harder than I thought. When I signed up with Jonas, I assumed he’d use the shower tape and as much as I hate that, I accepted the terms. For Diana.

But I didn’t know he was going to force me to play a goddamned servant complete with old-fashioned uniform. Although he’d made damned sure it’s so short that if I bend over, my ass is front and center in America’s living rooms.

Absolutely, Diana is worth the humiliation of not only being a maid but having to watch Zach salivate all over Liesa and her mother. Truthfully, the maid issue is my problem. Domestic work is a legit way to make a living and nothing to be ashamed of. I know this and believe it. I have no problem slinging drinks or working with tourists as a dive master for an honest wage. It’s not about being a servant.

It’s about being their servant.

I scrub the egg pan, fighting the lump rising in my throat. Mom would be so disappointed in me. She might have understood me falling for Zach, after all, she’d gotten pregnant from Jonas.

But she’d faced her situation on her own, with her head held high. She’d had me and raised me and never lowered herself to the subterranean level where I stand now.

“Hey, I know you.”

I hadn’t heard anyone enter the kitchen but when I spin around a perky young woman with dark hair, blue eyes, and a set of dimples that match Zach’s stands at the door to the outside. Heat climbs up my neck when I remember the only time I’d seen her. The morning Zach and I woke up on the beach together. Our first time.

What can I possibly say? “Hi, Alicia.” I turn back to the pan and scrub, though it’s already clean.

She bounces around to the counter beside me and plops up on it. “Kylie, right? What the fuck are you doing here in that stupid uniform?”

In Tom’s briefing he’d been clear I’m barred from mentioning the role I play for the show. “I work here.”

She eyes me. “Oh, I get it, you work for Liesa’s Life, not as domestic help, right?”

Sue me, Tom. I don’t really care if Alicia knows that reality doesn’t mean real. “Something like that.”

She laughs, her face so much like Zach’s. “Fuck me. That Jonas is a real wanker. You don’t belong here any more than Zach does.”

I can’t agree more but I scrub harder.

“What happened between you and Zach, anyway? I mean, I could tell he was really into you.”

I frown at her. “You only saw us together for thirty seconds in the dark. You don’t know how he felt about me.”

She raises her eyebrows. “That’s how I get all the good information. Everyone underestimates me. Quiet, unassuming Alicia. Does what Mom and Niles say, never causes a problem.” She taps her temple. “But knows all.”

I don’t know her at all, but I can tell this girl is about as quiet and unassuming as a hurricane.

“You didn’t know I was working here.”

She swings her legs over the side of the counter and considers that. “True. That surprised me. But it’s Jonas’s MO. Are you here to stop Zach from marrying Liesa?”

It’s as if she pinched me and it stings. I’d better get used to the idea. “I doubt that’s what Jonas has in mind.”

“Fuck. The last thing Zach needs is that bitch crawling any further up his ass than she is now.”

The swinging door from the dining room pushes open and Liesa saunters in, all smiles and yellow sundress.

Alicia hops down from the counter. “Hey, Lies.”

The cameraman and the tall, ugly sound guy they call Lurch squeeze in behind Liesa.

She plasters a fake smile on her face and hurries over to hug Alicia. “Oh my god! I didn’t know you were here. I’m sure there’s still fruit and pastries. Cook has already gone to the market and our new help probably doesn’t cook, so, sorry, no eggs or bacon.”

Alicia extricates herself from Liesa’s grip and backs toward the door. “It’s okay. I just stopped by to see Zach.” She pushes the door open and slips out. “Later.”

With Bob and Lurch following closely, Liesa folds her arms and surveys me. “So, you’re the new maid.”

I keep scrubbing the pan, hoping I don’t scrape a hole in the bottom. Jeri and Jonas told me the surest way to engage viewers is to create drama. It needs to revolve around the show’s stars, Liesa and Zach. The sooner I get the ratings up, the sooner I can be out of here. With one deep breath to gather my courage, I spin around to face Liesa. In a sour voice, I say, “Did you need me to do anything for you? Iron a dress, bring you a mimosa, make your bed?”

She runs a finger along the stainless-steel top of the island. “Zach and I are planning a picnic on the beach, so I’ll need you to pack that. You can take care of your other duties after we’re gone and won’t be needing my bedroom for a while.”

I manufacture a smirk and mumble. “Not like you need your bedroom for Zach.”

Her fierce eyes nail me. “What did you say?”

My smile is as fake as I can make it. “I said, would you like ham sandwiches or tuna?”

She points a perfectly manicured finger at me. “You better knock that impertinent shit off. I can fire you any time. What Zach and I have is special and someone like you doesn’t stand a chance at messing it up.”

“Impertinent? I guess you can afford to throw hundred-dollar words around...” I raise an eyebrow, no longer 100% sure that I’m acting. “But can you spell it?”

She lunges so that we stand toe to toe. Our eyes meet, and I realize we’re the same height. She slaps her hand over mine on the edge of the sink, her fingers squeezing around mine. “Stay away from Zach or you’ll be sorry.” With that, she spins around and flounces to the door, stopping to speak over her shoulder. “And sandwiches are for poor people. We’ll have pate and a chilled crab salad.” She gives me the kind of smile that tells me that by poor people, she means me. “And throw in a bottle of that Chablis Mother had shipped from France.”

Bob keeps the camera on her and they slip through the door. Jeri gives me a thumbs up and a smile before following them out.

I hunch over the sink and quietly open the crumpled scrap of paper Liesa forced under my palm when she squeezed my hand under hers.

Trust no one.