Naomi & Bradley, Reality Shows... (Vodka & Vice, the Series Book 3) by Angela Conrad, Kathleen Hesser Skrzypczak Page A

is all moved in, his closet full of new clothes as well.  I don’t know why; he walks around in his underwear most of the time.
    “Aren’t you cold?”
    “I am Italiano.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “My blood, it runs hotter.”
    “Oh brother.”  I roll my eyes.  This is going to be a long five weeks. 
    “Hey, bro, don’t be jealous.  You have nothing to feel inferior about.  Russian men can be very, how you say?  Passionate?”  He’s eyeing me up and down, pursing his lips, batting his eyelashes. 
    “Uh, I don’t play for your team.  My bat swings towards the female population.  One in particular.”
    Paolo stands, wipes the corner of his mouth with one finger, makes his fingers into the ‘okay’ sign.  “No problem, bro.  This market is very well-stocked.”  He prances out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts of Naomi and Viktor together in that loft.  It’s almost more than I can take, but I have to be strong and have faith in Naomi.  If we’re getting married, I have to trust her.  I mean, Viktor, really?  There’s no way she’d ever go back to him.

Friday, April 29th
     
     
    We’ve been ‘filming’ all week and finally have a day off.  It seems like all the activities they have dreamed up recently are designed to make us look like we’re having way more fun than we really are.  One day there was a shoot with all these hot female models in bikinis.  Another day, they shuffled us onto a bus that took us to a Burlesque Cruise on the East River.  Paolo picked up one of the drag performers and brought him back to our room, so I slept on the couch.  The camera guys tried to get me to be angry about it, but I really wasn’t.  He’s still kind of touchy-feely with me and I was happy to have his attention elsewhere.
    We’re supposed to have movie night tonight.  Some exclusive premiere or something.  The booze has been flowing since around noon, and they brought in platters of heroes and salads and wings a little while ago. 
    I sit next to Joeson, who are still going strong.  “What’s the movie?  You guys know?”
    “Who cares?”  Joel shrugs his shoulders.
    “Yeah, as long as they keep the drinks coming,” Mason agrees.
    I wander off to ask the other guys, but no one seems to know. 
    A couple of hours later, we are all gathered in the living room, in front of the forty-six-inch flat screen TV.  There’s a popcorn machine and more drinks and diet soda.  I think I see Tim Smith briefly, but he disappears wordlessly and the lights dim.  The screen goes black and white words appear.
     
    What you are about to see is real.  Last week The Producers of Model House were informed that one of you is being cheated on while you are here.  It is always with great hope that, when we leave our loved ones, they will be faithful in our absence.  Unfortunately, this is not always the case.  However, in the long run, it is always better to know the true nature of those we surround ourselves with.  It is in the interest of this full disclosure that we present this video.
     
    The video starts up and immediately, I recognize our living room.  I go ice cold.  Loud music plays as the camera focuses on Viktor.  He grins and then grabs a bottle of vodka.  The next thing I see is Naomi on the bed, half-smiling at the camera.  Then Viktor is over her, streaming vodka onto her stomach, pulling her arms over her head.  She squeals and he pulls her shirt up and licks her stomach.  She says something, but the music is so loud, I can’t understand it.  The next thing I see is Viktor pushing his way between her legs.  Her face is blocked out, but I imagine her angry, there’s no way she’s liking this.  And who’s filming it anyway?  The music keeps growing louder and louder. 
    “That’s ENOUGH,” I shout, start to get up.  I’m turning this shit off.  A pair of hands pushes me back down.
    “Easy, Dobrov.  You need to know the