Chapter Text
THE UGLY TRUTH
Chapter One: Cold-Hearted
Fidgeting with a stress ball, Penelope Featherington listened to the song that meant so much to her. The one song that rekindled her strained relationship with her late mother before she shortly passed away due to ovarian cancer. She always played this song because it centered her.
Today of all days, she needed to feel her mother’s powerful message if she were to survive this meeting and the work days ahead. She had to endure his presence for the bloody ratings.
She was a professional. She could handle this.
After all, it’s been ten years since she last saw his handsome face.
“He’s a cold-hearted snake, look into his eyes, uh-oh. He’s been tellin’ lies. He’s a lover boy at play. He don’t play by the rules, uh-oh… Girl, don’t pray the fool, no,” she sang along to the upbeat song by Paula Abdul.
Many years ago, when she went home with a broken heart because of Colin Bridgerton, her secretly sick mother took one look at her, wrapped her up in an embrace, and let her cry. As she told her mother about what happened, Portia Featherington cupped her cheek and sternly told her, “he is not worth your tears, darling.” And then of course, her mum being a former actress, she played the song “Cold Hearted” over and over again. Her mum wanted the song’s message to sink into her bloody thick skull.
The lesson her mother wanted her to learn was this: Colin Bridgerton is a good for nothing fuckboy and he's not worth her time.
She supposed she should be grateful to him breaking her childish fantasies because it led her closer to her mum. When her heart was breaking, her mum was there for her providing the support she needed to get over him. Those last six months with her mum were her dearest memories of her gorgeous and eccentric mother. She would treasure them in her heart forever. And if she played Cold Hearted every single day, so what?
Besides, today of all days, she needed to be reminded of one ugly truth.
Colin Bridgerton only ever saw Penelope Featherington as the fat funny girl who he wouldn’t mind sleeping with once as an act of charity while waiting around for stunning beauties like Marina Thompson.
The song had finished playing and she clicked the repeat button. It felt very calming.
She was vibing to the song when her mood was disturbed by someone who had the audacity to enter her office slash dressing room without knocking. She turned her attention to the rude interloper, already preparing herself to control her temper, when she saw the person who walked in.
It was Colin Bridgerton himself.
She inwardly cursed when she noticed just how good he looked. It was so unfair that time had been very kind to him. He looked even better in his thirties, all tall and muscular. The stubble on his face gave him this roguish charm that complimented his curly brown hair that was tussled haphazardly giving him a devil-may-care attitude.
He was still as gorgeous as ever. And she hated him for it.
“My, my! I never pegged you for a Slytherin, Pen,” the annoying git smirked. Even without an invitation, he just took the seat across from her and made himself very comfortable.
She only arched an eyebrow while glaring daggers at him. “Cold-hearted snake? Snake? House crest of Slytherin? Get it?” he prodded and she didn’t react.
He snorted, “tough crowd. Here I thought Harry Potter was your favorite everything ever.”
“Let’s cut to the chase. I don’t want you to be a part of The Ugly Truth,” she stared him down.
He smirked back, “Oh, I know that, Penny Pen. But you need me.”
She huffed, “we built this show and made it successful without the help of some fancy pretty boy.”
“Did you just call me pretty?” He fluttered his eyelashes playfully. Blast it! The git looked even more charming.
“Back off, Colin!”
“It’s been ten years, Penny Pen,” he rolled his eyes.
“Yes, well, I still don’t want you around,” she angrily plonked her palm on the desk.
“You still like me,” he winked.
“The audacity! I would never!” she was so ready to slap his smug face but she remembered her anger management sessions with her therapist. She took a deep calming breath and tried to smile, albeit a forced and awkward one.
“You can work with me, whip this show back up in the ratings. You won’t be affected if you no longer have feelings for me,” he cajoled.
“The only feelings I have for you are loathing and annoyance. None of those are pleasant, to say the least,” she taunted.
“You know we can make this show huge. Your penchant for gossip and my male perspective and oozing sex appeal - that’s a winning combo,” he grinned.
“If I work with you, you won’t talk to me,” she negotiated with a menacing look on her face.
Colin laughed, “isn’t this a talk show?”
“I hate you,” she all but growled.
“The angry kitten had long established that,” he snorted.
“Fine! Three months. You help us improve ratings. If not, you’re out,” it was her final offer.
“I’m amenable if I get something out of this,” he waved his hand and added, “I am taking time out of my busy schedule to help you after all.”
“Excuse me, it was El who wanted your ugly face here.”
“Your insults aren’t helping your cause, Penny Pen,” his thumb caressed her fingers and she hurriedly moved her hand away. The incorrigible flirt!
“Fine… What do you want, Mr. Bridgerton?” She truly needed his popularity to boost the ratings of their show. She could not give up on The Ugly Truth. It was hers and Eloise’s dream project. It was the epitome of their childhood fantasy to work together and build a show that would be watched all over the UK.
“For every point increase on the ratings that we get, that’s the equivalent of one date you’ll go with me,” he wiggled his eyes playfully.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?!” she could never understand why this man had so many followers. Was he nuts? Go on a date with him? As if!
“Tsk! Tsk! I guess I will tell El that her childhood dream is over,” he feigned sadness as he was about to stand up.
“You win! One date per every point increase in the fucking ratings!” she frantically agreed. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
He gave her a weird penetrating stare that made her feel queasy, “how will I know you won’t back out?”
“I never turn my back on my word,” the git had the gall to accuse her of not keeping her promises. How she loathed this man!
“Very well,” he held out his hand so they could seal their deal.
She reluctantly reached for his outstretched hand, ready to shake it, when Colin Bridgerton surprised her by kissing it like a regency gentleman. She couldn’t contain the gasp from her lips when her skin tingled at the sensation.
“Wear a dress to our first date,” his smoldering green eyes spoke of a promise she never wanted to discover. His gaze gave her the chills. It was so unnerving.
She pulled her hand away stammering her response, “I-I will be the one in a burlap sack.”
The git chuckled as he exited her office. Oh how she wanted to kick him in the nuts.
A few minutes later, her best friend Eloise who was the producer of the show, walked in carrying her clipboard.
“Eloise Bridgerton!” she glared at the brunette who was trying, but failing, to look innocent.
“Good morning, Pen!”
“Why did you have to bring him here?”
“We need him Pen. My brother may be a git but his YouTube videos get a minimum of 10 million views each. The man’s got something that we need,” Eloise tried to sound optimistic.
“Yes, well, you’re not the one going on dates with a fuckboy,” she huffed as she felt a migraine coming on.
“Damn, he’s good,” El hummed but she noticed that her best friend's eyes were tinged with mirth.
“This isn’t funny!” she hissed.
“It’s just a date, Pen. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Eloise was right. What’s wrong with a series of dates? After all, it’s hard enough to get a full-point of rating increase. Maybe the git would fail and she wouldn’t have to deal with him for very long.
“Maybe you’re right,” she acquiesced.
“I rather think I always am,” Eloise winked and they shared a laugh. Even at the toughest of times at work, being with her best friend was the bright spot of her day.
It’s only three months. Three blasted months with the playboy and then he’s out. You got this, Penelope. You can handle him.
I'm an award winning talk show host. I'm an award winning talk show host. I'm an award winning talk show host.