"Vasquez... They... Don't they have Indian sites there?"
"They do. I was hoping you could show me a little of your world today."
He shifted in his seat a bit and sat taller. "We'll need some rock-climbing gloves. Or at least something with some grip," he told the girl from production who was tagging along with the camera crews.
She responded with a nod. "I'm sure we have some in the date prop box."
"I'm sorry," I interrupted. "The date prop box? Isn't it a little early in the game for a box of props?"
She actually turned three shades of red. "It's just a box of stuff that has accumulated over the seasons of things that we bought for a date and then never had another use for. Every once in a while, someone will ask for something and we bring out the box."
"You got a couple horses in there, too?" Ardent asked.
"No. And the park doesn't have any to rent out, either." She let out a sigh. "I could make a call and maybe have a couple horses here by lunch."
"Excellent," he said.
I shook my head. "When, exactly, did I lose control of this date?"
Ardent smiled. "When you said you wanted to see into my world. I mean, I could have her send someone into my travel trailer and get my tools. I'm sure if I showed my credentials, and we asked very nicely, and flashed them our camera crew, they'd let us dig a little. But I didn't have time to plan and call and work the channels."
"Poor baby."
"I'll live."
I could see why Chloe was so set on liking him. Today had reminded me why I'd kept him around. He was a sweet guy. And very patient. He did well with teaching me about reading the sandstone and how it tells a story of weather and wind over time. Our tour guide had been given a head's up on Ardent's profession and brought out some of the artifacts and showed him charts on where the items had been found. I was content to study those items as Ardent and the guide started going into far more detail about the digs and began to speak in, what I can only say was, a foreign language disguised as English.
Production made good on their near-promise of horses after our picnic lunch. The gloves proved very helpful while hiking on the rocks, and I made a mental note to pick up a pair for myself after all this was over. I could think of several locations, out hiking with Goldie, that they would have come in handy.
It had been a good day. And I had been thoroughly interested in both the geological history and artifacts they'd found. But... you know that feeling you get when you're with someone who isn't your friend, but you're trying to act like you're friends? It was kind of like that. We'd been perfectly pleasant with one another, nothing had gone wrong, but there was no connection. It was like going out with your sister's boyfriend to help him buy a birthday present for her. Perfectly acceptable to go out and do, but not something you'd plan on doing again.
I was sitting at the dining table that evening, staring out a window facing the back of the property, depressed for the first time since coming here.
"I don't know what to tell you, Chloe. I tried, I did, with both of them. But it's just not happening."
"Are you assigning either of them white?"
"I didn't say I was ready to give up on them."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying I enjoy having them around. I had a good time on both one-on-ones, I really did."
"But you might have had a better time if you'd taken one of the other guys, instead."
"Yeah, maybe, but I don't know that. The dates were planned around who I was taking. If someone who couldn't appreciate different kinds of art went on the Art Walk with me, I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much."
"You know what I'm saying."
"Yeah."
"So, you're back to having four ditchables?"
I laughed, "Oh, my God. Could you imagine if I sent all four home? Production would have a fit."
"You used the one-on-ones for the two that you liked, but didn't have anything romantically going on with, to see if the romance would come. Now, the question is, will you ditch one of them and use next week's one-on-ones for Mitch and what's-his-name?"
"Mitch and Tyler have had their chances. I've pulled them aside during the group dates enough to know that it's not going to happen, at least not with this setup. Drake and Ardent, though, ugh, I'm so disappointed. I wanted something to be there."
"Stop. You have something there with six other guys. Exactly how many potential husbands do you need?"
"I'm only supposed to eliminate one guy this week."
"So pick three of them to keep and give it a little more time to develop. You know, sometimes people are friends for years and then one day something happens. Something shifts and then, boom, you have yourself a fifty-year marriage."
"Yeah, wonderful, one problem though. I don't have years to do this."
"Maybe they were all trying to connect with you on a friend level, before diving deeper for something more. You know, see if you have a real brain in there first, before they get blinded by the beauty that is you."
"Do you really wanna make fun of me now?"
"I'm being serious."
My eyes searched the tree line outside while I thought about it. "Do guys even think like that?"
"I don't know. Maybe some of them do."
"You're not helping me."
"I'm not there to see what's happening. Hey, do you think you could get them to send me footage of the dates? That way, I could see how it's all going down and give you a solid opinion."
I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No, they're not going to do that. They won't even let me see footage of the guys when I ask for it."
"What footage do you want to see that you weren't there for? Their interviews? If you listen to how they're feeling about you, isn't that like cheating?"
"No... Though, that's a decent thought. It might make my choice easier if they'd let me."
"Then what do you want to see?"
"I heard through the male grapevine that one of the guys up at the house has temper issues."
"What kind of issues?"
"Like, one of them snaps and yells and curses. But then he separates himself and disappears into his bedroom for awhile to cool off."
"So... is he trying to hide it, or has he just learned to harness it that way?"
"I don't know. But if he's one of the four, I'd eliminate him and put them out of his misery."
"You'd think the guys would want to rat him out."
"You'd think. But I think they like him when he's not acting up. Why else wouldn't they tell me who it is?"
"But you need to know which one it is. You need to see him when he's having one of his little episodes, so you can figure out if it's something you'd be willing to live with, in close confines."
"I know."
"Well, if you don't end up eliminating him, they'll crack and tell you, once feelings start running deep. There's enough of a competitive undertone that they'll alert you to who has the mood swings. We've seen it a hundred times on the show. Eventually, they will start pointing out the weird and two-faced ones. It happens every season."
I sighed. "I know you're right. It would just be easier if I knew it was one that I didn't think I might end up with."
"Tomorrow is my last final. I can get on a plane and fly over, if you want. You could sneak me onto the property during one of your early-morning workout sessions and I could spy for you."
I smiled. "I love you for offering that. But I'm pretty sure someone would spot you, and I don't feel like bailing you out of jail for trespassing."
"They wouldn't arrest me. They'd film it and I'd be in promos for the following week's episode."
I lost it, Chloe always found a way to make me laugh.
"Maybe," I said. "I don't know about putting you in camouflage or anything like that. But maybe you could come out at some point and help me when the decisions start getting tough."
"My fee would be the right to pick through your leftovers."
I la
ughed hard at her.
"Hey, normally I don't like your hand-me-downs, but it sounds like you have some really good ones out there."
"I do," I admitted. "Did I tell you...?"
"What?"
"Hold on, there's someone at the door." I got up and headed for the front entrance. "Probably Troy with some last minute plans to fill up tomorrow." I opened the door to find Trevor standing there, holding motorcycle helmets. "Uh, sis, I gotta go."
"Just tell me who's cheating the system this time," she begged, with so much enthusiasm that you'd think I was plotting revenge against her worst enemy.
"Trevor."
"He's stealing more time? The man's becoming predictable."
"No, he's holding a set of keys. I think he's stealing a date."
She squealed. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"
My eyes hadn't left Trevor's since I'd opened the door. "I've really gotta go."
"Yeah, okay. But, hey, about figuring out who to ditch?"
"Yeah?"
"First-world problem."
I smiled and let some of the earlier tension fade. "Yeah, I get it. Maybe I'll flip a coin again. Bye."
"Bye."
I hit the end button and pocketed my phone. "How did you arrange it so that you could get me off the property?"
"By agreeing to let one camera crew follow behind us in a car," Trevor answered with a grin.
"I'll take it. Where are we going to go?"
"Well, Ardent and Drake both said you tried to connect with them by seeing into their world a little bit. I know a restaurant on the coast with a rooftop terrace. It's about an hour's drive from here. I have a lengthy reservation for us. We'll do dinner and I'll bring my laptop along and, if you want, we can work together to make the cover for your next book, or maybe some banners for your website, and I can show you want I do."
"We can't mix business with the show."
"It's an unofficial date. They can either choose not to use any of the footage, or edit out anything that could be connected to your writing."
"How are you going to explain your absence to the guys? You don't have an RV to claim to be working out of for the evening."
"Well, wouldn't you know it? My mother called and said she fell off a ladder and thinks she broke her ankle." He paused to wink at me. "It's going to turn out that she's exaggerating and it's just a sprain."
"Wow. So you're supposed to be on your way to the hospital to sit with her."
"Yep."
"Well, sitting in an ER will certainly account for a few hours," I said with a chuckle. "Where'd you hide the bike?"
He shrugged. "I drove it around to the back gate that the crew uses."
"You are a sneaky little buggar, aren't you?"
"I certainly can be. I maybe did some covert ops during my stint," he added with a wink.
Dinner was wonderful, the view had been spectacular, and after an hour and a half in the hands of Trevor, my website had been given a sprucing. And I'd had a really good time. Trevor was funny when he was relaxed. And the flirting that had started on the yacht continued with ease. He was making it easier and easier to slide him out of the friend-zone and into the boyfriend-zone.
I'd tried to get him to talk a little about his time in the Marines, since he'd touched upon it back at the house. He'd steer the conversation back around to his family or job instead.
I did find out how he'd managed to score an extended reservation for us though. The head chef had come out and made his rounds. When he came to our table, Trevor stood and gave him a hug. It turned out that the head chef was his uncle. I was half-tempted to ask his uncle if he was the one that cooked holiday dinners in his family. Because if Trevor made it to the end, I might need little things like that to tip the scales.
It was nearly one in the morning when Trevor dropped me off at my doorstep with a goodnight kiss ...or maybe two, before I went upstairs to crawl into bed.
Saturday
Mike was already out on the track by the time I got down to start running the next morning.
"Late night?" he asked.
"What makes you ask that?"
"You're already wearing sunglasses."
"I'm just sooo not a morning person. I'll rise, but most mornings I refuse to shine."
"So skip the workout."
"Are you kidding me? Between all the filming, bikinis, and skin-tight clothes, I can't just skip a workout unless the date for the day involves massive amounts of exercise. America is supposed to easily believe that sixteen guys would trip over themselves to try and woo me."
"How much weight have you taken off for this?"
"None, whatever fat I've worked off has been replaced with muscle. I just look more toned."
"Do you normally run?"
"Mostly it just depends on what's around at my given location. I prefer to bike around towns and hike trails. But if I want the cameras to back off me here first thing in the morning, I have to stay on-property, be up early, and be busy tending to mundane things like exercise."
"Ah. I do it this early just to get a mental break from the guys."
We continued to talk as we ran laps and racked up mileage. I found myself telling him about the promotional photo shoot they had lined up for me that morning. And about how I was then going to be dolled up to do an interview where I would be asked questions that network shows would be asking on my experience so far. So when the show actually airs, they would then have sound bytes and footage to answer the standard questions. The shows could then use my recorded answers for quotes.
And what struck me with the situation was that I didn't tend to share my day with any of the other guys. I didn't tell them about any of my behind-the-scenes stuff anymore than they told me about theirs.
When I'd finished rambling, he told me that the guys were supposed to each go through on-camera interviews where they'd be shown clips of things they had each said or done, to remind them of the specifics, and then give their own reactions and reflections of what they had seen. That way, America could know what the guys really thought of each other, instead of just seeing the cheery reactions you give to someone at the time, out of politeness.
But, once they finished, the guys were planning a poker night. They'd found a poker top for the pool table and were going to gather barstools around and play. They were all tired of both swimming and billiards, and since they didn't think they could pull off everyone sneaking off-site, they were going to organize their own alternative entertainment.
I waited until the sun went down before I walked up the path to the main house. I was bored. So, it was either work on my outline for my next novel some more, or crash the poker game. Since I had to send someone home tomorrow, and I wasn't sure which one should go, I figured spending more time with them could only help.
I heard a cheer coming from the game room through the closed door. I went up to it, followed by the camera crew assigned to follow me, when I told Troy that I was considering popping in on the guys that evening.
I could hear Drake's voice speaking, but I couldn't make out any of what he was saying. Then his audience made various hooting and hollering noises. I didn't know what the hell was going on in that room full of testosterone, but it sure didn't sound like poker to me.
I considered backing away and not going in. If Troy or someone else from production was giving them instructions, or some sort of presentation, I didn't want to interrupt. But then my phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to find a text from Troy, 'There's still a camera crew inside that room and production is monitoring what is going on, from the trailer. They have sent up a request for you to open that door.'
And yet, I still hesitated.
My phone buzzed again. 'Production says, pretty please, open that door.'
The cycle of Drake's undertones, followed by hoots and cheers had continued during my hesitation and receiving of the texts. I decided to turn the handle on the door slowly and nudge it open.
I couldn't see
Drake, but I could hear him talking, "'She shifted her body over him to better access the other side, causing the edges of her robe to graze over his nether regions and he groaned louder, squeezing his eyes shut. She smiled, removed the robe, and began to graze the tip of his manhood with her nipple. Rusty's eyes opened to see what was going on. The sight was even better than the sensation. "Jesus, woman," he ground out.'"
Then the guys cheered, and all I could think about was how I'd left Drake and Ardent in my rig the other day. I'd been so concerned with putting the press kits together, I'd forgotten all about the opened box of proof copies for my next, about-to-be-released, romance novel.
I could look at this one of two ways. One, they took something from my home and are now using it for personal amusement. Or two, I'd gotten three of them to show me into their world this week, now they were taking a look into mine. Either way, I could go in and be upset that they'd taken it, or I could go in with a sense of humor about it. It's not like they'd stolen a diary. They took a copy of a novel that was going to be distributed for public entertainment, anyway. If anything, I should charge them for the copy.
As I pushed the door open, I also remembered the trio of guys' reactions yesterday when I told them I'd been working on a novel draft. "Good evening, gentlemen."
They cheered me. All except Drake, the man's cheeks blushed red through his dark skin.
"Emmaline Jacobs. I never realized before how perfect a name that is for a romance author," Mitch said between his chuckles.
Eight of the guys were in the room. Some sat around the poker table, a couple at the wet bar at the end of the room, and others in a seating area by the fireplace. A few had cigars they were puffing on, and pretty much everyone had drinks.
"Em, I'd consider it a personal favor if we'd go back to the beginning of that scene and you read it to us," Jared said with the biggest smile on his face that I'd ever seen.
I walked over to Drake and took the book from his hand while staring him down.
"It started out that we were proofing it for you," he stammered.
"We found a typo," Liam announced. "We marked it and drew an arrow in the margin."
"Yeah," Trevor added, "we marked a couple other places where you might want to add stuff in. If you still have time, that is. We only wrote in the one copy."
Walk of Shame Page 17