My Bachelor

by Tess Oliver

  I stopped at the exit gate and waited for the parade of silver cars to roll past. The windows were tinted dark, but I didn’t need to see inside the cars to know that they were filled with glamorous and giddy women. For many, it would be their first time in front of television cameras. They all knew that for the next six weeks, millions of people would be watching them and reading everything about them on social media. It seemed like a big hassle to go through just to meet the right man. And nineteen would walk away from here without even that. I sighed thinking about the lucky one who would be walking off set on the last day, hand in hand with Rafe, her finger wrapped in a diamond ring. And then there was the kiss, the event the show was named after. I didn’t have to actually experience it to know with great confidence that Rafe was an excellent kisser. He just had that highly skilled kisser aura surrounding him.

  I put the cart in gear and headed up the road. It had been a long eleven hour day. The first day of filming was always infinitely long. The meet and greet party was filmed at night, and the crew was expected to work overtime. I never minded because I needed the money.

  I reached the massive entrance gates to the estate and pushed the button on the remote. They swung open in their usual grand fashion. The cart chugged through and puttered up the steep driveway. Sadly, the golf cart had more power than my real car. In fact, I wondered if Henry could even make it to the top without dying.

  The front door of the house swung open before I’d turned off the motor. I got out and walked up the steps. The door was open but I knocked.

  “Come in, Eliot. I need help with the tie.” Rafe emerged from the hallway. I inadvertently gripped the edge of the front door to steady myself. It was just a suit and tie, but somehow, he gave a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘cleaned up nicely’.

  Rafe dropped his chin and fidgeted with the necktie. “I don’t usually wear one of these nooses around my neck. Shit, I’m making a mess of it.” He looked at me and held out his hands.

  “Helpless is not a good look for the newest bachelor. Besides, it really doesn’t work with the rest of you.” I stepped forward. “Lucky for you, I used to help my dad with his tie before work.” I could feel his warm gaze on my face as I concentrated on my task. Without warning, he reached up and pushed curly Jack off my forehead. I quickly told myself to ignore the sensations his light touch sent through my entire body.

  “I’ve spent my whole life dealing with that rogue curl. Sometimes I think it has a mind of its own. Once, I cut it off, but it just left me with a stub of hair right in the center of my forehead.” I steadied my hands and concentrated on the tie, also trying to ignore the fact that his soapy scent and aftershave were already becoming a bit too familiar and way too pleasant.

  “Why would you cut off something that makes you different? I like it. I already think of that curl when I think of you.”

  I peered up at him but had no idea how to respond. I couldn’t imagine why or how the man could possibly come to think of me at all but then I reminded myself that I was his assistant and the person on the other end of his pager. I had to stop reading so much into his words. He was obviously blessed with the skill of knowing just what to say. Most people kidded me about the stray curl, yet somehow, he’d made it an important part of me.

  I patted the finished tie. He lifted his chin as I straightened his shirt collar. For a fleeting moment, I imagined myself fixing the shirt of my incredibly amazing husband. The image dissolved quickly. I had no time in my life for dreams or amazing men.

  I stepped back to admire my handiwork but couldn’t help staring at the man behind the tie. Rafe had pulled his long hair back off his face, but he’d left a good deal of black beard stubble on his finely chiseled jaw. Something told me the director had asked him to keep the five o’clock shadow. I was sure Doug knew exactly what a gold mine he had this season. And it was wrapped in a six-foot plus package that was going to have sponsors clamoring for air time.

  Rafe dropped his black lashes to stare down at the tie. “Nice job. What does your dad do that he has to wear a tie for work?”

  It wasn’t a question I’d expected. “He used to sell construction equipment, tools and safety gear. He died of cancer when I was in my last year of high school.”

  “I’m sorry.” I’d had dozens of people give the same response when I told them about my dad, but he managed to make me believe that he truly was sorry to hear it. It was rare for me to ever continue on about my dad, but there was something about Rafe that made me want to just talk about things, things that I’d never told other people.

  I picked the coat up from the couch and handed it to him. “He’d been really sick for a good six months before he broke the news to us. At the time of his diagnosis, he’d been told he had less than a year and that there wasn’t much that could be done. He just suffered quietly, stoically, bravely.” I took a deep breath and was sure I’d already bored Rafe with my story. But as I peered up, I saw that his gaze was riveted on me. He was listening. The man was about to be in front of cameras and the entire country, and soon he’d be judged and scrutinized by millions of Sealed with a Kiss fans, but he was standing calmly in front of me, listening to every word.

  A quiet laugh fell from my mouth. “My mom, God love her, is a first class, textbook hypochondriac. She’s had every disease in the book. Or at least she thinks so. She was always complaining about aches and pains and dragging herself to the doctor’s office. And there was my dad, silently dying. I’ll never forgive myself for not realizing that he was losing too much weight or that he was sleeping all the time. I was in my last year of high school and couldn’t be bothered to notice.” I swallowed hard to keep myself together. And all the while, Rafe listened. “Anyhow—” I took a deep breath. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

  “You know high school, El, it’s that time in everyone’s life where the world is centered around them. And it sounds as if he was pretty good at hiding the pain. I guess that’s why you’re thinking about going into cancer research.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath to get past an emotional few minutes that I hadn’t planned or expected. “Someone needs to find a damn cure. Might as well be me.”

  “I agree, and I’ll be rooting for you.”

  “Thanks. Now, it’s time for me to deliver the leading man to the television set.” I dusted invisible specks off the lapel of his coat. “How are you feeling?”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I spent the last few hours asking myself how the hell I managed to get talked into this.”

  “Huh, not the answer I was expecting. Nervous, jittery, excited maybe, but not that. If it’s any consolation, I’ve heard there are some stunning women waiting to meet you.”

  “That helps. I do like stunning women.” He held out his hands. “Do I look presentable?”

  I rolled my eyes at the question and motioned toward the door. “Your chariot awaits.” I looked back at him. “I just hope you don’t tip it over.”

  ***

  The hurried frenzy that always took over the set when filming was about to start greeted us as we walked in from the parking lot. Doug rushed over. “Christ, Eliot, what the hell took you so long?”

  “My fault,” Rafe said quickly. He pressed his hand against his stomach. “A case of nerves. Might not have come down that hill without my assistant’s encouragement.” He winked my direction just before being dragged away. Every head on the set turned to watch as Rafe was led through to the front steps where he would greet each woman as they arrived in a special horse-drawn carriage. If not for the dozens of crew members, cameras and bright lights, it could’ve almost been considered romantic.

  With my main task for the evening, getting the bachelor safe and sound to the set, completed, it was close to quitting time for me. I hopped into the golf cart and drove the half mile to the offices and break room. I’d
hardly stopped to eat all day, and my head was starting to throb from hunger.

  A few people lingered in the office building but most had either gone home or to the set to watch the first night of filming. It was hard to know how entertaining or dramatic it would turn out to be. It always depended on the contestants and the bachelor. From what I could tell, this season’s bachelor was calm, cool and smooth. It would be left to the women to stir things up. The producers never came right out to admit it, but I knew that after many interviews and even a psychologist’s screening, they made sure to pick women who were certain to be catalysts for drama, a synonym for good television. If things went along swimmingly, the ratings would tank and the show would be in danger of losing its coveted prime time slot.

  I walked through the corridor and noticed a light coming from my old office. Tricia would be expected to work late tonight to keep up with Facebook and Twitter and the various social media outlets that would be lit up with posts from the show’s fans. I’d seen Tricia several times throughout the work day. Her plumped-up lips had attempted to twist into an angry knot at the sight of me, so I decided to avoid her completely.

  I was relieved to find an empty break room. The trash can was overflowing from the long day, and the remnant odors of various lunches being heated in the microwave lingered in the room.

  I walked to my locker, my new mini office, where I’d placed a box of granola bars and a water bottle. As I reached inside for the bars, the envelope slipped out and fell to the floor. I plucked out a granola bar and picked up the envelope. Normally, I kept my phone with me in case my mom or Georgie needed me, but today it had just been too much of a hassle to carry around. I held my breath as I pulled it out, hoping I hadn’t missed something important. Aside from a few texts from Jackson and a message from Simone that the electric bill was overdue, there was nothing urgent. My mom had apparently calmed down about the prospect of dementia.I pulled out a chair and sat at a table. The noise on the set had fallen to a hush and the only sound was the clatter of horse hooves on asphalt. The first contestant was arriving. I should have been there watching like the rest of the crew. Especially if I was to be Rafe’s wingman and advisor if needed. That thought made my stomach tighten into a knot. First, I was safe, and now, I was a wingman. Depressing. I really had to applaud myself for, as Jackson liked to tell me, working so hard to be un-pretty. My questionable best friend had come up with the term just for me, not to be mean but to gently prod me into rethinking my social life, or lack thereof.

  I placed the envelope on the table, only to realize, too late, it was covered with a layer of sticky stuff. I picked it up and left half of the dark yellow envelope on the table. “Bunch of slobs,” I muttered as I pulled out the contents. Deciding the damage had already been done, I laid the envelope back over the sticky shreds stuck to the table. I placed the stack of papers on top of it and ripped open my granola bar package.

  My phone buzzed with a text. I let my eyes skim Rafe’s bio section as I reached for it. A year ago, Rafe had sold the medical database program he’d created in a nine figure deal to the healthcare industry.

  I glanced at my phone. It was a text from Jackson.

  “Can’t believe you’re missing this. And Tricia just texted me that the internet blew up almost the second the bachelor was introduced. He’s a mega hit already, and he hasn’t gone on one date.”

  “I’ll be there soon. Just eating a granola bar,” I typed back.

  I returned my attention to the papers in front of me. I didn’t know the details of his business or the program he’d sold, but it seemed my earlier assumptions about him had been wrong. He’d only recently come into a lot of money. He wasn’t one of those spoiled, silver-spoon, born into money types. He’d earned his fortune. And with his brains, no less.” My phone buzzed with another text.

  “El, this is no fun without you. Get over here.”

  I returned the envelope to my locker and walked out to the golf cart. I should have been curious and excited to watch the meet and greet. After all, I was the bachelor’s assistant this season. But nothing about watching Rafe meet a parade of beautiful, eligible bachelorette’s sounded fun. In fact, the opposite was true.

  I never even took the cart out of first gear as I crawled toward the back of the set. The filming light was off, so there was a break between scenes. More than likely, a new contestant was being helped up into the carriage. As I pulled around to the back of the set, I could see several of the women in their glittering formal dresses and spectacular hairdos mingling around the patio with their drinks. I couldn’t blame them. I’d be guzzling the wine too. What a stressful position to be in.

  I parked and walked around to where I knew I’d find Jackson and some of the other spectators. It was a sort of viewing booth that allowed us to watch and listen on a monitor.

  Jackson looked over as I walked inside. “We’re waiting for bachelorette number five, Olivia, the lawyer. I’ve got my money on her. She’s gorgeous and smart. Where were you?”

  “Taking a break.”

  Jackson showed me his phone. “Texts from Tricia. Half the women in the country are in love, and the other half are the ones who haven’t seen the show yet. But by next week, everyone will be watching.”

  Paula, the makeup artist’s assistant, glanced back from the monitor. “You should have seen the looks on the women’s faces when he walked up to take their hand at the carriage. You’d have thought Mr. Fucking Darcy himself had just emerged from Pemberley to greet them. Classic. I’ve got my money on Janelle, the lingerie model. She is so stunning, she hardly needed any makeup.”

  Jackson waved off the prediction. “Please, did you read his bio? He’s got brains to go with that beauty. That model isn’t going to be able to keep up with the lawyer. Just wait. You’ll see what I mean.” Jackson focused back on the monitor. “The light’s back on,” he whispered.

  We watched the monitor as the shiny white, Cinderella style carriage rolled up to the set. The camera angle showed Rafe from behind. His shoulder width was twice that of Taylor’s, the host. Rafe’s dark hair was glossy brown under the camera lights, and as he turned, it occurred to me that he looked just as good on camera as in person. It was no wonder the internet was having a meltdown.

  He walked to the carriage, and a gorgeous brunette with silken skin and large almond-shaped eyes peered down at him from inside. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be in the viewing room. I wanted to be home, snuggled in my bed, my big orange cat resting on my feet and an old black and white movie on the television. I wanted to be anywhere but on set watching the meet and greet.

  I patted Jackson on the shoulder to get his attention, and I pointed toward the exit. I mouthed the word homework to him, and before he could protest with hand movements, I slipped out the door. I headed back to the golf cart. I’d have to circle all the way around the studio to not get in the way of filming, but it was worth it. I needed to go home. It seemed that it was going to be a very long show season.

  Chapter 6

  Rafe

  Maybe it was just because she was a familiar face and I’d been cut off from the rest of the world, but I was glad as hell to see Eliot walking up the steps to the house. I swung open the door before she could knock. Her blue eyes rounded in surprise.

  I reached out and grabbed her hand. “I need your help.” She stumbled a bit as I pulled her inside. I had flashcards with the bachelorette’s names, pictures and descriptions spread out over the coffee table.

  “I was going to see what you wanted for breakfast, but I see we’re about to start up a study session.” She turned to me. “Studying happens to be a special skill of mine.” Her thick cloud of wavy brown hair, including the curl, had been tamed back with a blue headband. The word enzyme had been scrubbed completely away. Her skin was golden and flawless, but something told me she had no idea just how beautiful it was. The brilliant
aqua color of her eyes hadn’t escaped my notice either. Today they were even brighter, as if she’d had a better night’s sleep.

  “I made coffee. Want some?” I headed to the kitchen for another cup.

  “No, I already had one. Two makes me jittery. Coffee lightweight. And I’m not much better with booze. One glass of wine and my lips and face are numb. And here I go again spilling all my deepest, darkest secrets.”

  I walked out with my cup of coffee as she sat down on the couch. “If those are your darkest secrets, El, then you are just one step from angelhood, if there is such a thing.”

  “If it comes with a pair of wings, I’ll take it. My car was cussing at me this morning, telling me, excuse the automobile French, to fuck off.”

  I sat down next to her. “Sounds like you need a new set of wheels.”

  “I do. Unfortunately, the only kind I can afford—i.e. skateboard or bicycle, are not allowed on the freeway.”

  “I’m guessing the studio doesn’t pay well.”

  Eliot leaned forward and began collecting up the contestant flashcards. “Actually, it’s a union job, so the pay is fine. But I’ve got—” She stopped. “Oh my gosh, I just keep babbling on about my life. So how did it go last night? I heard you had to negotiate with the director about which women to keep on the show.”

  I put down the coffee and combed my hair back with my fingers. “Two of the women seemed a little unstable. I wanted them both to go, but they made me keep one. I know it’s for ratings, so I went along with it. Doesn’t really matter. I was kind of disappointed that you didn’t stick around.”

  Eliot look surprised. “Why?”

  I shrugged, thinking about the night before. It had been a blur of silk, perfume and lipstick, but the one face I looked for was nowhere to be seen. “I wanted your opinion. As you might have noticed, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”