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bad for Natalia, she really had a crush on Bradley, but she knows we’re getting married and she says she’s seeing some stockbroker who lives on 7 th Street.
    “It’s starting KuKu,” Viktor shouts from the other room.
    Balancing a tray of hors d’oeuvres and my drink, I hop on the sofa next to him.  We’ve become good friends again, him offering design advice; we go out together for harmless walks in Central Park or for meals.  A few times he’s talked me into doing the paddleboats.  Viktor’s like a child, with a sexy punch.  Those blue eyes looking at me, his hair shining in the sunlight, I can admit that at times I’m tempted to brush back that thick hair, or lean into him closer than necessary.  I should not be around another man who resembles Bradley so closely.  It’s like being tantalized by a doppelganger sent by Satan to seduce me.
    “Looks like a party,” Natalia cries out in childhood glee.  Snapping me back to the present, I look closer at the screen.
    Bradley just walks into the large, ugly orange room and stops in front of a giant cake in the middle of the floor.  What the hell?  I can guess what’s in there and my blood turns cold.  Bradley sits in a chair in the middle of the room and the deejay plays “Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me” by the Pussycat Dolls.  Sure enough, my every dread surfaces as a scantily-clad hot girl pops out and goes for Bradley.
    Natalia is laughing, “Ha ha Naomi. Bradley has another woman after all.  I knew he was not the man to marry and only settle for one.”
    I turn toward Viktor, “I thought the show said No women ?”
    “KuKu, you joker, of course there’s going to be women.  That was part of the reason I signed up to be on the show.  The producer gave us all a copy of the layout.  Everyone on the show signed it.  First, just the men, and then the surprises start.  Women come in, mix it up, make it hot.”
    “So, Bradley knew there’d be women in that locked down house with him?”
    “Had too, we all knew.”
    “Look!” Natalia squeals, “Her tits are in his face now, he’s having fun!”
    I jump off the sofa and dive on the floor right next to the TV for a better view.  Sure enough, tits in Bradley’s face, her ass grinding into his no doubt budding erection.  Frickin’ fun!  He left me to handle this financial drama alone, deal with the herd of Slotzkys, so he could go party with other women?
    I turn around, the sight making me sick.
    “Viktor, does he expect me to watch two more months of this?”
    “Sure, you’re engaged.  He’s just having fun, casual sex, for the cameras.  Male’s behavior is different from females.  No worries.  Nothing serious.”
    I turn back to the screen; this cake-popping whore is pulling Bradley’s hair, touching his face.  She’s got her legs wrapped around my guy’s hips, moving up and down…I stand up and walk into the kitchen.  I hear the Slotzkys laughing and cringe.  Bradley’s probably pulling her thong down with his teeth.
    Suddenly, this separation is getting too real.  It isn’t just a physical separation, but he is on some mating-dating shit show.  Would they share beds?  Would I have to watch Bradley and other women moving under a raised sheet, hear their moaning, and watch them smile at each other the next day?  Was I supposed to blow that off and go with the flow in my old bohemian style, or chew nails like the real Naomi would do?
    I lean over the sink and close my eyes.  “The lyin’ sack of…”
     

Chapter Ten
Turtle dreams
     
     
    BRADLEY
    Friday, April 2nd
     
     
    I can’t hide in here all morning.  Presley left around six to get a jump on the gym, I guess.  The cameras do love his flexing, I’ve heard.  It’s pretty quiet, so I open the door a crack.  Just a few of the guys on the sofa, surfing the television.  It’s pretty limited, what we see.  No news, no Model House.  Just sports, movies, and ME TV, which runs