“Will do. Thanks.” I quickly park my bike away from the circular driveway and make my way inside. Opulence greets me as I step through the door. This place is one of those homes that is best described as ‘palatial’, but that only scratches the surface. I’ve done a shoot or two in places like this, but as I’m walking down the hall, I feel my heart thump in my chest.
Walking toward me are a curvy pink-haired pinup and a flamboyant blond man. But that’s not what’s caught my eye. It’s the gorgeous woman with full hair and makeup walking between them, her hips swaying with an unconscious seductiveness that bypasses all the layers of makeup that have been put on her. She’s all dolled up, but for some reason, she only has on a simple tank top and shorts. I can hardly take my eyes off her beautiful face to notice. She’s so stunning that it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing.
As they pass, she glances up and gives me the most perfectly sexy shy smile I’ve ever seen and my jaw drops. Jesus, what the fuck’s wrong with me? The last time a girl tripped me up that easily, I was a hormonal high school boy who didn’t know my dick from my emotions.
Fuck, looking at her gorgeous smile, I can’t help it. I have to say something. Before I can speak, the man motions me sharply down the hallway.
“Uh-uh, honeybuns. You gotta wait your turn for Miss Thing here, I don’t care how hot you are. Now move along!”
Obviously dismissed, I watch as they continue down the hall away from me, the gay guy swishing his hips as if he’s in competition with the two women next to him. I’m forced to laugh a little at the ridiculousness of it all. Shaking my head, I smile. Hopefully, I’ll see Miss Thing again if I don’t get sent home immediately. Maybe this trip will be worth it, after all.
As soon as I step through the door to the den, the smell of cologne assaults my nostrils. Lots of it, to the point that I want to either gag or sneeze. The room must be filled with at least forty other dudes, all seated in chairs, waiting. They’re all primped, dressed in their best, and dandied up to the point that it’s nearly eye-rolling for some of them. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb, but maybe that’s a good thing.
With so many here, it’s not a sight that I welcome. It means more competition for me in some form or another, but I’m used to it. I figure this is going to be just like any other cattle call I’ve been on. I just need to make the most of it and do my best.
I find a chair and settle in to wait my turn as the men around me chatter, a lot of them boasting about their accomplishments. After listening for a bit, I engage in the small talk, wanting to find out who my competition is. I’m sure most of them are just here for the opportunity of being on TV. But the more I talk, I’m surprised that there’s a few other than me who don’t seem to be braggarts looking for a quick fifteen minutes of fame.
It’s not long before we’re getting called to the back, one by one. I sit patiently as each name is called out, watching the reactions of the men who come out. Some of them come out after a few minutes and sit down with smiles on their faces, while others come out with grim expressions and leave without saying a word.
After what seems like an eternity, my name is finally called.
“Hayden Bishop.”
I get up from my seat and walk into the adjourning office. Inside, there’s an impeccably dressed woman who reminds me of Meryl Streep standing before a table that seats a group of men and women. They must be the producers or other execs.
The woman’s face lights up when she sees me, and she gives me a warm smile. “Hello, Hayden,” she greets me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Meredith Ward, executive producer of the show.” She gestures to her side. “And these are my wonderful colleagues.”
I nod at everyone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”
Meredith grins. “That it is. Shall we get right to it?”
“Of course.”
Meredith starts by asking stuff she should already know based on my resume, but I answer each question with a confident smile. I make sure to flash the dimples Jay said would be my ticket in the door. I don’t usually use them intentionally, but whatever. If it works, it works.
“And how is your modeling coming along?” Meredith asks. “I understand you’re in high demand.”
I don’t bother to correct her about my popularity. It must be something Jay added to my profile. “I just finished a shoot before coming here, actually. It ended up being a little more full-throttle than what I was expecting, honestly.”
Meredith and the other executives laugh and I grin. After, she grows quiet and I feel a little twinge of anxiety returning as she looks to her colleagues. They don’t say anything but their faces are expressive.
After another moment, Meredith walks over and picks up a piece of paper off the desk and hands it over to me, along with a pen. “All right, Hayden,” she announces with a smile. “I think you are what we’re looking for. Please sign the NDA and we’ll get down to the details.”
A sense of relief washes over me as I take the paper. Excited to find out what the big secret is, I hastily sign. Besides, this is just a standard one-page NDA. It’s not like I’m signing my life over.
Meredith smiles in approval as she takes it back and slides it over to one of her colleagues. Then she picks up another form, this one multiple pages. She fingers it with one manicured nail as she speaks. “So in case you’re wondering, you’re here for a show called Matchmaker.”
She explains about how it’s a new game show-meets-love connection-type reality show and that I would be one of many male suitors. Hearing it, I frown. I definitely wasn’t expecting something like this. I’ve always thought these shows about finding love on TV were pretty much bullshit.
If I do this, I can only picture the shit my parents will get back home. Dad will probably laugh his ass off at me, and Mom will talk about how tactless it is.
Meredith appears to notice the distaste on my face. “Think about it. You do well here and you’d have a name in the industry. You won’t be kissing up to pervy photogs or scrabbling at cattle calls for runway work.” She grins. “Just think of it as a platform to promote yourself. A form of free advertisement.”
I feel the weight of all eyes in the room on me and I scratch the back of my neck. Shit, I’m being put on the fucking spot. The only thing that sounds fun about this right now are the adventures. When else am I going to get to travel for free? When I don’t reply right away, Meredith speaks up. “Don’t you want to at least see her?”
Taken out of my reverie, I focus my eyes on Meredith’s face. “Huh? Her?” I ask in confusion.
Meredith smirks. “The lovely lady you’ll be competing over.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to respond, walking over and grabbing a glossy piece of paper from the end of the table and handing it to me.
My heart jumps as my eyes fall on the same face of the girl I saw in the hallway. The hair isn’t the same and she doesn’t have on the gallons of makeup, but it’s definitely her. I’m slack-jawed as I stare at the photo, transfixed by her beauty. She looks even more gorgeous without all the face paint.
“Hayden?” Meredith asks when the silence stretches on for far too long. She’s looking at me with a confident grin like she knows what my answer will be.
I can’t believe I’m doing this . . . but fuck it. I don’t have anything else going on anyway. I’m in.
I swallow the lump in my throat and stare at the papers in Meredith’s hands. “Where do I sign?”
Emily
“God, I’m so nervous!” I hiss.
I grip the fabric of the blue cocktail dress the producers chose for me, my heart beating a mile a minute as I try to calm myself. I’m totally freaking out right now, somewhere between overwhelmed and excited and maybe about to puke. After two days of weirdness as I’m made “familiar” with the mansion via highly regulated escort, today’s the day we officially start filming. The reality of my situation has suddenly become all too real. I’m excited, but butterflies are still
swarming in my belly.
“Chill, chica,” Brad whispers to me as he sees my right foot nervously tap-dancing to its own tune. We’re standing with McKayla in a prop room that’s going to later serve as the cocktail room for my suitors, waiting for filming to start. There’s a hubbub of activity going on, the production crew running to and fro, moving props and shouting orders. For the past half hour, I’ve watched the commotion and done nothing but fret over all the little things that could go wrong. Brad notices and pats me on the back. “Everything is going to be fine. You look absolutely stunning.”
The whole day, McKayla and Brad have tried their best to calm me down. As they did my hair and makeup, Brad was even joking about the bright red lips he gave me.
“Girl, I do believe I’ve given you the world’s best set of blowjob lips!” he quipped, snapping his fingers at my fierce look. “It’s going to drive all those dicks out there crazy!”
Sure, it worked, and I laughed, but it only took away my worries for a moment. And I couldn’t help but hope that the guys I meet tonight aren’t thinking that about my lips because then that’ll mean I’m sending the wrong message. I’m not a slut. And sending the wrong message is the last thing I want to do on TV.
And what do I know about being on camera anyway? I’ll probably fudge up the whole thing.
McKayla and Brad have assured me there’s nothing to filming since I don’t have actual lines and that I should just be myself. After all, that’s why they chose me, apparently. So far, that hasn’t helped. I think what’s driving me crazy the most is meeting all of these men and being expected to have chemistry with several of them, something I know isn’t possible.
And how am I supposed to know who is genuine and who is not?
No one cares if the love on the show is real. All that matters is whether it appears that way, says a small voice in the back of my mind. It’s the fantasy of perfect love. Not the truth.
I don’t know why the thought bothers me. I love to watch these shows and I can’t get enough of them. But now I’m on the other side.
“That’s easy for you to say,” I reply to Brad, tearing my eyes away from a camera man carrying his equipment balanced on his shoulder as he rushes across the room. “You’re not the one who has to go out there and be tossed in front of a pack of wolves.”
Brad lets out a snort and gives me a little shimmy. “Girl, please, I wish I was in your shoes. I’d yell for them to bring it on. They could eat all of this good stuff,” he says as he gestures to encompass his whole body.
“Except they’d probably get sick from eating tainted meat,” McKayla butts in. “And then filming would be a wrap.”
“Ain’t nothing tainted here, sweetheart,” Brad gloats, doing a little twirl as he pops his ass twice. “All of this tootsie roll is sweet. Sweet enough to eat.”
McKayla laughs and shakes her head and then looks at me with sympathy. “I’m sorry if we’re not helping, chica, but like Brad said, you’ll be fine.”
I shake my head. “Hearing you two is actually helping. It’s keeping my mind occupied.”
McKayla smiles at me. “Darlin’, if I looked like you look right now, all I would be worried about is how many hearts I’m going to break tonight when all the men see me.”
Warmth flows through my chest at her compliment. Even I have to admit that I look good, thanks to McKayla and Brad. My hair is done up into a spectacular updo with wisps of hair that cascade around my face. Despite Brad’s comment about my lips, he’s gifted me with a fierce face mask that channels a bit of catwalk. The cocktail dress is hugging my curves in all the right places, topped off with a sparkling diamond necklace and three-inch black heels that I can barely walk in.
“Thank you,” I reply softly, blushing.
Meredith sweeps into the room like a tornado before McKayla can reply, shouting orders and making demands. As usual, she’s dressed sharp as a tack in a black jumpsuit and matching black pumps, a white belt wrapped around her waist and not a hair on her head out of place.
The flurry of activity increases at Meredith’s commands, and the production crew goes into overdrive bringing the set to life. At the moment, I’m struck by how fake the setup is, but my frazzled nerves keep me from dwelling on it.
“Hey!” Meredith yells at a poor young stagehand carrying a vase that looks too large for him, gesturing wildly, “Watch where you’re going with that thing! It cost the studio a fortune.” She looks like she’s about to scold him further when her eyes fall on me and she forgets about him as she walks over.
“Well, don’t you look beautiful,” Meredith says, stopping in front of me and pursing her lips as she looks me up and down. “I knew we made the right choice. All you have to do is deliver on bringing the drama.”
I go pale, feeling sick to my stomach at her words. It’s a cold reminder of how the entire show is riding on my shoulders. Drama? I’m boring. I’m anything but drama.
Before I can reply, Brad clears his throat.
Meredith snorts. “If you’re looking for a compliment for doing a job that the studio pays you good money for, then you’ll be waiting until you’re old and gray.”
Brad goes silent, but I’m almost certain I hear him mutter under his breath, “Good money, my flat ass.”
Meredith ignores him and for the first time, her face softens as she reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. “How are you feeling, doll?”
I part my lips to lie, but I think better of it. “Just a bit nervous is all. I don’t want to screw anything up.”
“Oh, honey, you can’t worry yourself about that,” Meredith tells me. “You’ll do fine. We picked you out of thousands of applicants, and we’re usually a good judge of character. If all fails, just picture them naked and giggle all the time. You’ll come off as cute and endearing to the audience, if not a little ditzy.” She gestures at the room’s exit. “But if you’ll just follow me, we need to get you in position for the men’s arrival.”
I feel like a knock-kneed duck as I follow Meredith across the room and out to the manicured grounds, nearly stumbling as my heels sink into the grass. Brad and McKayla follow under the guise of making sure my hair and makeup stay on point, but I think they’re mostly lending me some much-needed moral support.
The sun is just setting as we make it out, basking the mansion in its orange glow. In spite of the setup, I’m in total awe of the gorgeous scene in front of me, taking a moment to memorize the sight before we begin. From what I’ve been able to gather, the ceremony starts at dusk, any minute now.
“Here,” Meredith says, stopping at an erected three-step dais before the roundabout driveway. She gives me her hand to help me up the steps and I turn around to face her.
“There,” she says, beaming. “You look perfect. Oh, and we can’t forget this.” She takes a tiny wireless mic from Nate, who hovers nearby, silently anticipating Meredith’s need. Attaching the mic to the front of my dress and the sound pack on my back, she surveys me one more time. Turning to McKayla and Brad, she says, “I do have to hand it to you guys. For all of your crazy cattiness, she looks great.”
McKayla and Brad look shocked at the compliment, but she doesn’t give them a chance to reply. “Okay, I have to go make sure the set is coming along inside. Emily, hold your mark for the ceremony. Joe, the cameraman, will be out here when it’s time to start filming.” She points at McKayla and Brad. “You two can stay out here for support, but only interrupt if Emily needs her hair or makeup fixed.”
“Ja wohl, Fraulein!” Brad says with a mock salute.
Meredith ignores him and gives me a wink as she walks off.
I’m standing on the dais, shaking like a leaf as studio crews rush outside to set up lighting and put large vases filled with roses around me. Despite the pep talk from Meredith, my anxiety seems to have only gotten worse, my heart pounding in my chest like a war drum as the flurry of activity around me begins to make me dizzy.
McKayla is the first to notice that I loo
k like I’m about to have a panic attack. She climbs up on the dais and begins fluffing my hair. “Breathe, chickadee, breathe,” she whispers in my ear so the nearby crew doesn’t hear. “Brad and I have your back. And you look fucking hot! You have nothing to worry about. You’re going to knock them off their feet. Just chill, smile, and have fun.”
She pats me on my back, and for the first time tonight, I feel some of my anxiety ebbing and my confidence returning.
I can do this, I chant to myself. Just be myself, but more confident and more chill.
And how many reality shows have I watched anyway? I’m practically a fucking expert. There’s no reason for me to be scared. Lord knows, I’ve seen enough episodes to know how this will roll, even if this is my first time participating in one.
The greeting ceremony should be a piece of cake. Each guy is supposed to walk up and introduce himself. Then after everyone has their moment, we’ll all mingle and chat it up to get to know each other.
Apparently, cameras and mics are hidden all over the place to catch all conversation, even whispered ones.
“All right, everyone, ready?” Meredith yells, reappearing on the edge of the set with a walkie talkie in her hand. She motions for Brad and McKayla to scram. “They’ll arrive any moment.”
“Good luck, chica,” McKayla whispers, jumping off the dais.
“You’ve got this,” Brad echoes as the two head off to the side and the cameraman gets in place.
“Cue the limos!” yells Meredith.
A black SUV limo pulls up the driveway. I have to remember to take a breath as it rolls to a stop a few feet from me and put a smile on my face. There’s a long pause as the suited driver walks around to stand by the door, and I swear they can hear my heart pounding on the mic.
The door opens and my breath catches in my throat.
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