He gives me a long look as he leaves, but doesn’t say anything else.
I turn back to my computer, and glance at my hands. They’re shaking. My body knows I’m a lot more nervous about the coming weeks than my brain is letting on.
But all I can do is try my best.
NINETEEN
I walk back out to reception and let out a huge sigh. “Well, that was exhausting.”
“You didn’t expect it to be easy, did you?” Jules teases.
“Well, no. And actually, it could have gone worse. But I’m still emotionally drained.”
“Okay, but did you succeed in your objective?”
“I did,” I confirm.
“Well done! By the way, how was it meeting your idol for the first time?”
It takes me a second to realise who he means. “Oh, you mean Reid? Eh, he was all right. A lot of flash and not much substance, it seems.”
He laughs. “Look at you, already too cool for Reid Martinez. Hey, how about I come back to your place and we’ll have an unofficial celebration for your promotion? It’s been ages since I saw Finn. We’ll pick up some Bacardi on the way and I’ll make cocktails.”
“Actually, that’s a great idea. Let’s do it.”
“I’ll just finish up here and I’ll meet you out at my car.”
“See you in a minute.”
I head outside to the staff carpark and lean against the hood of Jules’s Mini Cooper, waiting for him to wrap things up inside.
I wonder if I’ll have an office now. Or if I’ll just float around wherever the action is. The first six weeks are filmed at the villa, which is over in Bondi, so I assume I’ll initially be spending most of my days there. The place has six bedrooms, a large grassy courtyard, and a big deck on the second floor. There are also multiple living areas and small alcoves available for intimate discussions. Well, I guess intimate in the sense that there are two people talking at the time, but several people watching and filming a few feet away, and then another few million watching later on TV.
I feel a little giddy at the idea of working in such an iconic location. It’s the equivalent of Elvis fans visiting Graceland. Not to mention the second half of filming with this new schedule I proposed. I’ll be getting paid to travel!
A couple of minutes later, Jules appears and we climb into his car, driving back to my place via the bottle shop and grocery store. I have a craving for enchiladas.
Finn arrives home at the same time as us. He parks in front of Jules and approaches us with a big smile. “Hey, buddy. It’s been forever. You coming in for a bit?”
“I sure am. And this lovely lady is cooking us dinner while I make daiquiris.”
“Sounds great. What’s the occasion?”
I haven’t seen Finn since yesterday morning, so he doesn’t know about my change in job description.
“Haven’t you told him yet?” Jules scolds. “Lauren here has been promoted. She’s now a consultant for MultiDate.”
Finn looks impressed. “Wow. That’s great. So we’re celebrating?”
“Yep.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Inside, Jules and I head for the kitchen. Finn excuses himself to shower and change, claiming he’d just finished working on a very large and sweaty man and needed to wash off the memory.
Jules quickly mixes up a shaker and pours me a glass. I immediately take a large gulp and resume cutting up the chicken and vegetables needed for the enchiladas. I love how easy these things are to prepare, and how they come out tasting like you put in way more effort.
Once they’re out of the oven, we sit down to eat in the living room. I’m already on my second daiquiri. I think Jules is too, because he’s almost as excitable as me. He probably shouldn’t have been so heavy-handed with the Bacardi.
“So this is your dream job, huh?” Finn asks.
“I think so. Oh, and before I forget, I hope you don’t mind, but I pitched your ‘visit every continent’ trip to the executive producer and we’re probably going to do it on the show.”
He gives me a look that is half pleased, half annoyed. “You stole my idea?”
“Sorry. Everything’s been happening so fast. I was only offered the job last night and I was up until 2am doing some research. And when I thought about what I would do if I was in charge of the dates for the second half of filming, I realised I really liked the idea of visiting every continent.”
He sighs as if he’s doing me a huge favour. “Well, I suppose I am kind of a genius when it comes to that sort of thing.”
“So you’re not mad?” I check.
“Of course not. I’m just jealous you might get to do it before me.”
Jules seems to be enjoying our exchange immensely.
“If it makes you feel any better, I will be working,” I continue. “And I’ll be dealing with difficult colleagues. The executive producer is really aggressive. And she was awful during auditions. She treated the women like animals and picked apart all these non-existent faults in their looks.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound great.”
“I know, right? And then they played this horrible game of Would You Rather that I really don’t understand the point of…”
“Ooh, I love that game!” Jules cuts in. “Obviously not the ick questions like whether you would rather be a virgin forever or have sex with your sibling one time, but the fun ones. Like would you rather be a famous movie star or a famous singer?”
Finn rolls his eyes. “Here we go.”
“No, it’s a great icebreaker. And by the sound of things, you and Lauren need to bond more!”
“Says who?” I ask. And then I look at Finn apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound like I didn’t want to bond with you. It’s just that sometimes I think it’s better to maintain some emotional distance when you live with someone.”
Finn opens his mouth and then closes it again. He nods. “I agree. Less potential for drama.”
“Oh, you guys are the worst!” Jules says. “I don’t care. I insist. We’re playing this game, or I’m leaving and taking my cocktails with me.”
“No, no, please stay,” Finn says in a half mocking protest.
“Be careful or I’ll insist on Truth or Dare instead, and you really won’t like my questions then.”
Finn sighs. “Okay. Go on. Hit us with something.”
Jules opens his phone. “Now I can’t think of any. Just give me a minute.”
Finn pulls his hands down his face and I giggle. The daiquiris have definitely gone to my head.
“Okay, okay, here’s an easy one to start. Would you rather a lifetime supply of Pringles or Lindt chocolate?”
“What flavour Pringles and what flavour chocolate?” Finn asks.
“I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“Of course it does. If it’s sour cream and onion Pringles, then I’ll go for the chocolate and I don’t even care what flavour it is. But if it’s those weird lemon and white chocolate Lindt truffles, then I will gladly take any flavour of Pringles. But still not sour cream and onion.”
Jules huffs in exasperation. “Fine. Original flavour Pringles and original Lindt.”
“Hmm, that is a tough one.” Finn looks at me. “What would you pick?”
“I think the chocolate. But it only wins by the tiniest of margins.”
“Yep, same. Chocolate it is.”
Jules nods, apparently satisfied. “All right, next question. Would you rather dance everywhere or tiptoe everywhere?”
“That’s so dumb,” Finn complains.
“Just answer the question,” Jules demands.
“Okay. Dance. At least that would give me a little variety. Tiptoes would get tiring.”
“I think the same,” I confirm.
“Jeez. I’ll have to get some tougher ones,” Jules says. He scrolls down the screen on his phone. “Oh, here’s a good one. Would you rather eat dog food or a rotten banana?”
“That’s di
sgusting!” I squeal. Yes, the alcohol has well and truly reached my bloodstream. “That’s almost as bad as the one they asked in the auditions about having a bath full of slugs or spit.”
Jules wrinkles his nose. “Just the visual of that makes me want to vomit.”
“Can we do something else?” Finn asks. “These questions are stupid.”
“Wait, I have one,” Jules pipes up. “Would you rather make out with me or each other?”
My mouth drops open, appalled. “Jules! What kind of question is that?”
He laughs. “We’re all friends here, honey. It’s not like I’m asking you to follow through.”
I glance at Finn. He looks uncomfortable. “That question isn’t fair to Emma,” he mumbles. He then gives me the briefest of glances before turning away, and I can’t tell if it’s due to regret or disgust. I’m not sure I want to know the truth.
“I knew it! You’ve always secretly wanted to see what my lips could do, haven’t you?” Jules says, waggling his eyebrows at Finn.
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” Finn says.
“Fine.” Jules turns to me. “What’s your answer?”
“I couldn’t choose either of you. When I kiss someone, it’s because there’s an emotional connection. And I know that you wouldn’t be feeling it because you’re gay, and Finn wouldn’t because he has a girlfriend.”
Finn stands up and picks up his empty dish. “Can we move on now?”
Jules doesn’t seem to want to concede. “Okay. Just one more.” He fixes Finn with a stare. “Would you rather eat Lauren’s or Emma’s cooking?”
Finn’s mouth tightens into a thin line. “I know what you’re doing, and you need to cut it out.”
“What am I doing?” he asks innocently.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. We’re done here. I have some admin to catch up on anyway. I’ll see you later?”
Jules finally relents. “Okay. Sorry, buddy. I was just playing. You know that, right?”
“Don’t do it again,” he says firmly and disappears down the hall. He doesn’t even acknowledge me.
I don’t know what to say.
“In case you’re wondering, Emma is a terrible cook,” Jules mock whispers.
“So what were you trying to achieve there?”
“I don’t know. Make Finn realise he’s with the wrong woman?”
“What? And you think I’m the right one? Had you even thought to ask me how I felt?”
“But the two of you are such awesome people. You would be great together!”
“Weren’t you joking about me and Patrick the other day?”
“Oh, that wasn’t serious. I mean, I know it’s possible you guys could have a fling, but Patrick isn’t a good long term prospect.”
I laugh incredulously. “You think the guy who promoted me to a consultancy position on my favourite TV show, and who can also afford to fly me around in a private jet isn’t good enough for me?”
“Nope. Finn is a much better catch.”
“But he’s taken! Don’t you understand that?”
He sighs. “I suppose. Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any awkwardness.”
I look down the hall. Finn’s bedroom door is closed. “I think you should give him a few days to cool off and then call up and apologise.”
“I will.”
“And never try to meddle in our personal lives again.”
“Not even if I could hook you up on a date with Ryan Gosling?”
“He’s taken too!”
“Pfft. You have too many morals. Ooh—here’s a good Would You Rather. If they were both single, would you rather date Ryan Gosling or Ryan Reynolds? I’m thinking I’d choose Ryan Reynolds. The boy has a great sense of humour AND he’s dreamy looking.”
“Quit it with the questions!”
He holds up his hands. “All right. Well, if I hear of any hot single guys, I’ll let you know.”
“Please don’t.”
“You’re such a party pooper.”
I clear the rest of the dishes. “In the words of Finn, I’m not going to dignify that comment with a response.”
Jules chuckles. “See, you two are meant to be. Just you wait.”
I smack him on the arm. “Cut it out and help me wash up. That can be your punishment.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I fill the sink with hot sudsy water. I’m kind of mad that Jules ruined what could have been a fun night. It started out so promising.
I think maybe it’s best if we all pretend the night never happened. There was way too much weirdness going on there, and I don’t want to think about what any of it might mean.
Denial is always a safe bet.
TWENTY
It’s my first official day as a MultiDate consultant. I get to the studio early so I can mentally prepare for the day ahead.
Unfortunately, Ariel is already there.
“Oh good, you decided to show up,” she says sarcastically.
“It’s not even eight,” I protest.
“Your first lesson will be that there is no nine to five here. Or whatever hours you were told you worked. You show up when and where you’re needed any time of the day, no questions.”
“Okay.” Jeez. What’s up her butt this morning? It’s as if any progress I made on Friday never happened. Maybe Patrick didn’t approve her pay rise.
“And despite all these ridiculous new plans you have, I’m still in charge. Patrick says you report to him, but you have to communicate with me too. Otherwise this isn’t going to work.”
“I understand that.”
“Good.” She strides over and dumps a heavy folder into my arms. “You’re in charge this morning. You can make the first pairings.”
I blink. “You want me to set up who goes on the first round of dates?”
“Yep.”
“Are you sure?”
“You wanted to be a consultant. So, consult.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to work on this collaboratively?”
“Nope. I’m busy. You better hurry. The cast are showing up in half an hour. We’ll be starting commentary at nine, so you’ll need to be ready to inform everyone who they’ll be with so we can catch their reaction.”
“All right.” I take a deep breath and fix my face into an amiable smile. I know she’s testing me. “I’ll do my best.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will.” She walks off, laughing to herself. I know she thinks I won’t be able to handle the job, and by giving me this task, she’s hoping I’ll find it all too hard and quit, but I’m going to do my best to prove her wrong.
I sit down at a table in the back of the cauldron and open the folder. It’s quite lengthy, containing at least twenty pages of background for every contestant. As I flick through, I realise it would be much easier if someone had prepared a cheat sheet on each person. Do they normally do that and decided not to for me? Surely it would save time if I could see everyone’s details at a glance? If I had known I was going to be in charge of pairings, I would have asked to see the profiles earlier and made notes myself.
I swear Ariel has deliberately made this more difficult than it needs to be. I’m proven right, when I notice some pages that should continue on from others are either missing or shoved haphazardly into other sections. If you ask me, it’s a bit childish. She couldn’t possibly feel threatened by a twenty-three year old, could she? It’s not like I’m trying to take over her job or anything.
I spend the next half hour writing down all the contestants’ names and whatever information I can glean at short notice, but all I can really figure out is a little about their appearance and their jobs. I don’t have enough time to sift through all the mixed up pages featuring their interests or personality quirks. When I’m done, I find I have more than six guys and six women. What’s that all about?
Ariel swans back in. “Are you ready?” she asks me.
“Um, almost. I was just wondering why there are
more than twelve contestants in this folder?”
“Oh, we have a few back-ups in there.”
“And who might they be?”
“From memory, Tamika, Gretchen, Sam and Adam.”
My heart sinks. I’d already paired them all up.
“So, what? We just pretend they don’t exist? Are they even coming in?”
“Nope,” she says cheerfully. “But everyone else is arriving right now.”
Great. I know she’s loving every second of this. Well, I’m not going to let her see me freak out. I’m good at handling things on the fly. You don’t spend four years in a real estate office without being able to think on your feet.
When all twelve people have entered the room, Ariel claps her hands together. “All right, people! Welcome to your life for the next twelve weeks. We’ll be driving you over to the villa soon, but first we’re going to announce initial pairings and do some interviews. If you’ve watched the show before, you’ll know how it all works. If not, you’ll quickly learn.”
The six women and six guys look at each other interestedly.
“Lauren here is a consultant,” Ariel tells them. The way she says consultant makes it sound like she’s saying pointless addition to the team. “She’ll be announcing the pairings.” She makes a grand sweeping gesture as if handing the floor over to me.
I clear my throat and walk over to stand directly in front of them.
“Hi everyone. I’ll try and make this as painless as possible. I’ve tried to first match you with someone you’ll have something in common with.” I glance down at my notes. “Um, Brittany and Blake?”
Two blondes who could almost pass for brother and sister step forward. They look at each other and tentatively smile. So far, so good.
I turn to Ariel. “Should I announce the next pair, or do we need to do something with Brittany and Blake first?”
She waves a hand impatiently. “Whatever. You two, off to interview room one.”
They look a little bemused, but oblige. I focus on the remaining contestants.
“Next, I have Chelsea and Dean?”
A small waif-like brunette comes forward, with a six foot three Tarzan-esque god. Hmm. I hope they don’t mind the height difference.
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