Malinda waved away her daughter’s concern. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I may have thought it was just a silly competition before, but now that I see how much it means to you, I’ll be nothing but supportive.”
Bliss hugged her. “Thank you, Mom.” As soon as she let go, she had to add, “And no trying to fix me up with the cameraman or lighting crew. Got it?”
Malinda rolled her eyes. “Why would you think I’d do that?”
Bliss hesitated. Sometimes honesty wasn’t the best policy. “No reason.”
“Are they Italian?”
Bliss blew the bangs out of her eyes. “That’s why! For heaven’s sake, Mom. I don’t know and I don’t care if they’re Italian, Polish, or space aliens… You will not mention that I need a husband—or put across the idea in any other grouping of words. Capiche?”
“Fine, fine.” Her mother waved her hands and left the room, insisting, “I get it, Miss Independent,” on her way into the kitchen.
Bliss prayed her mother really did understand and would leave the unmarried men alone. One of the judges was male but as gay as they came. Her mother’s gaydar might go on the fritz because he was a handsome guy and might look like a good father for Malinda’s future grandchildren.
The doorbell rang and Bliss sucked in a deep breath. Then she forced herself to relax and answered the door, while her mother looked on.
A cameraman stood on their front stoop. “You’re Bliss Russo, right?”
“Yes. Come in.”
He waved to someone behind him and called out, “This is the place.”
In minutes, people, lighting, cameras, and cords invaded the small living room. Mrs. Russo peeked out from the kitchen and her jaw dropped. Bliss offered her mother a comforting smile, which she returned while seeming to relax a smidge.
Maybe this will go all right after all.
“We’re going to set up out there to catch your expression when the host arrives,” the cameraman said, pointing to the stoop, “and here to see hers when you greet her.” He set his marks and the lighting guys set their professional light panels.
“Then, I’d suggest you lead her into your kitchen and introduce her to your big Italian family.”
Oh shit. “You want the whole family here?”
“Well, yeah. That’s what the producers were expecting.”
“I thought it was usually just a roommate or friend…”
“Nope. They want the whole shebang. Let me see the kitchen.” He strode into the kitchen without Bliss showing him the way.
“Um… Would you like some coffee?” Mrs. Russo offered.
“No. Just checking out how many people you can get around the table. Maybe you can whip up a big Italian meal and invite the host to sit down with you. She’ll take a bite, tell you how good it is, then talk about Bliss’s childhood and…”
“My childhood! Oh, my freakin’ God. Don’t you mean the greeting card company my sister started and how I took it over, and… and…”
“Naw. The viewers know all that. They want to get to know the finalists the way their family and friends know them.”
“Oh, how exciting! I’ll call your brothers right now… oh, and we’ll need to use the dining room. I’ll set it with the nice tablecloth and our wedding china…”
Bliss dropped her head into her hands. “Calgon, take me away.”
The cameraman snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. Do you have a makeup person coming?”
“No. I usually do my own makeup.”
“Yeah, but you learned how to do it for the camera. Your family didn’t.”
“I didn’t expect this big Italian family dinner.”
“Do you want the producers to find someone to help? It’s kind of last minute. I thought you got all this info beforehand.”
Bliss sighed. “Maybe I did. Maybe it was in my apartment that burned down a month ago, or maybe it was in the pile of mail I didn’t get to open Friday night, because that building burned down too.”
The cameraman stared at her wide-eyed. “Jesus. Are you cursed or some kind of firebug?”
Bliss’s mother quickly crossed herself. “Bite your tongue. It has nothing to do with either of those things. It was just bad luck… or maybe good luck since the firefighter who saved her life is now her boyfriend.”
“Seriously?” The cameraman grinned. “Fantastic! That’s a great angle. Can you get him over here too?”
Oh, dear God. Please don’t make me put Drake through this.
Mrs. Russo clapped her hands. “Oh, yes! Bliss, invite Drake.”
Bliss wanted to hang herself. Instead, she saw an opportunity to escape some of the sibling teasing she knew would be in store for her. She rested a hand on her hip. “Tell you what. I’ll call him if I don’t have to invite my brothers, but there are no guarantees Drake will be free.”