“Great, Farrah. I read on Twitter the other day that Daddy bought her a bigger set of tits,” Wes comments with a sarcastic laugh.
“Really? Well I guess we’ll see them today. Maybe this is a coming-out party . . . for the double FFs or whatever cups she’s sporting now.”
Wesley takes the exit, driving towards Orange County as we both laugh at Farrah’s ridiculous behavior.
“We shouldn’t laugh. In all seriousness, Daddy is a game player. He’ll probably buy this network and boot us off the show because we’ve made fun of her.”
“Yeah, or he can offer to buy you a pair like last time.”
I cringe, remembering the episode that was filmed at her parents’ mansion where Daddy Dearest offered to buy me a pair of tits. The episode caused outrage on social media but the ratings were high and no one cared since high ratings equaled a bigger money pot. Most people took my side; blasting Farrah for supporting her dad’s behavior. Others claimed I needed it, my tits being the center of attention for weeks until something else took over.
We continue to talk about Farrah, knowing Cliff encouraged our bitchy rants to cause controversy. Aside from Farrah, the rest of us got along great. Kyle and Kelly entered the show as a couple. High-school sweethearts from a small town in Minnesota. When auditioning, the networks thought the TV show would break them which equaled drama. During our second season, they broke up for one week. No one slept with anyone else but then Cliff wasn’t happy with the boring outcome so he edited the scenes to make it look like they separated for the entire season and slept with all of Hollywood. Neither of them minded knowing it was scripted and part of the whole acting gig.
Harley was the bad boy of the group. His real name was Troy Madden—born into a military family and moved from state to state growing up. He was nicknamed Harley because he had only one love in his life, his Harley—Rosita.
Despite Harley being painted the bad boy, constantly in trouble with the law, he was a big softy. He had your back and you knew you were safe around him. Though the boys looked up to him as a protector, it was Poppy that formed a unique friendship with him. The crazy British girl that came to the States to study fashion.
“We’re here,” Wesley announces, parking his car and handing the keys to the valet.
Stella’s overlooked the Pacific Ocean and Laguna Beach. Owned by Stella Grace—heir of the Grace Hotel Chains—it was a known hot spot for the elite and celebrities.
The restaurant is decorated in all white, with small splashes of azure blue on paintings that hung on the walls. Each table had been carefully arranged; large vases of freshly cut lilies sat in the middle of each table with shining cutlery and fancy glasses surrounding it.
We’re ushered to the table outside where Kyle, Kelly, Harley, and Poppy sat. Saying hello and hugging each of them, we take a seat admiring the stunning view and perfect day while we wait for Farrah.
The waiter serves us some expensive wine, and we drink while having a light conversation until we’re brutally interrupted by Farrah. Each of us had our own camera crew—Farrah’s crew probably the worst of the bunch. I couldn’t stand them. Two sleazy men, Rick and Marty, both who I could only assume have fucked her which is why they do everything she says.
“OMG you guys it’s been like forever!” She air-kisses us all, taking a seat at the end of table in her tight white dress that barely contained her confirmed double FFs. Her hair extensions touch the table, and she’s quick to push them back, keeping the blond tresses away as she drinks the wine demanding another glass. Another thing about Farrah—she enjoyed her wine. Rarely seen without a glass in hand.
Our food is served and we begin talking about our plans for the summer. Majority of the conversation is non-scripted with the cameras recording the whole lunch. Poppy is the first person to bring up our engagement.
“How’re the wedding plans going?” she asks in her pommy accent. “I’m so chuffed it’s going to be a winter wedding!”
Both Wes and I knew this would come up because Josie told us we had to talk about it. I also had a very heated conversation with my publicist, Nina, over when I could start talking about our relationship breakdown.
“Coming along nice,” I say with a smile. “We’re scouting venues and I would love for you to come dress shopping with me.”
Farrah laughs behind her fork, adding a sly comment. “You’d probably come out wearing some washed-up rag.”
“Funny, Farrah.” I place my fork down giving Cliff what he wanted whenever he placed the two of us in a room. “That’s what most men think when they’ve been with you.”
Everyone at the table snickers, all but Farrah. She’s trying to control her anger, drinking her third glass of wine and still demanding a refill. The waiter might as well leave the bottle in front of her.
“It’s interesting that you mention the wedding. I heard you guys were on the rocks?” She poses the question with much pleasure.
Wes places his arm around me, bringing my hand towards his lips and kissing my engagement ring. With the cameras all pointed at us, I nestle my head against his sho
ulder and allow him to defend our relationship.
“You believe anything you read, Farrah. Em and I are walking down that aisle. She’s my woman.”
I want to roll my eyes at such a barbaric reference but didn’t want Farrah to read anything into it. This conversation could easily escalate into one of our well-known fights that results in us being physically held back by security.
Things hadn’t always been difficult between us. In season one, we got along and became friends. Despite her wealth, we had a lot in common and bonded over that. It was season two that everything fell apart. She had made some bitchy comments about me to Kelly and Poppy during a girls’ night out and once I saw that footage, I knew I had to protect my back. She had a knife and was ready to stab me.
The crew yell cut so everyone could take a break and regroup. The makeup artists went straight for our faces, touching up the foundation and lipstick from the warm sea air. Wesley announces his need to take a piss, disappearing to the restroom.
Poppy gives me a reassuring smile from across the table, stopping the waiter to ask what the meaty-looking thing on her plate was. When she hears the word ‘heart,’ her face pales as she quickly pushes the plate aside.