Whose Bride Is She Anyway

by Dakota Cassidy

  Dramatic indeed.

  Ugh, the guilt… Shaking her shoulders, Tara thrust aside the gnawing stab in her belly and exhaled sharply, focusing only on evil.

  Crouching, Tara grabbed it and ripped it open with a shaky finger. What next? The show was infamous for catching folks off guard.

  Tara scanned the note. Ah, the ever popular getting to know you luau. Tara had watched tape after tape of the past three seasons of “Whose Bride Is She Anyway? ” This was where the fun began and the gloves came off. Jury members would assemble to meet one another and eat a roast pig or something. Glancing at her watch, Tara realized she had plenty of time to primp and fuss and war with her guilt. After all, this was national television, a girl needed to look her best.

  * * *

  Jesus Christ in a mini skirt, this was some place to land in. Jet lag and the pukes were long forgotten as Tara sauntered into the ‘getting to know you’ soiree. Island music played on the gentle breeze from the band assembled along the pool. A long table with a feast fit for a small country lay on festively decorated platters. Floral arrangements flanked the arched entryway and along the gazebo at the other end of the patio. Twinkling white lights hung from the palm trees, draping along the gleaming, mahogany bar. Straightening her flowered sarong, Tara tucked the tie between her breasts and made her way over to the dining area.

  Her stomach growled. The scent of roast pork and pineapple wafted under her nose.

  Yum.

  No pork. It was high in calories and had like a bazillion fat grams that her thighs just couldn’t accommodate if she wished to retain her size eight status.

  She’d have to be very careful she didn’t eat her way through this damn show. It all looked good and it all looked like it could cost her extra sit-ups, giving Kelsey something else to quite possibly taunt her with.

  Ick! Nothing like sit-ups to make her rethink that pork butt.

  Or having a porker’s butt…

  Grabbing a flower from one of the many arrangements, Tara tucked it behind her ear. Her long dark curls caressed her bare back, supple and sleek from working out. Tara felt good, yet her hands shook as she smoothed them over her hips.

  Pre-show jitters, no doubt.

  Andy waved her over from the far end of the long table. He was sipping from a coconut shell and bobbing his head up and down as the elderly woman from the jury chatted with him.

  “Tara! Pull up a chair.” Andy slid down the bench and offered a seat to her between the two of them.

  “Hey, Andy. ”

  “How do you feel? ” Andy’s smile was sympathetic. “Better, I hope. You look great.”

  Tara curtsied her ‘thank you’ to Andy. “And who’s this you’re over in the corner charming to pieces?”

  “Tara Douglas, this is Mrs. Mary DeWitt.”

  Tara offered her hand to the thin, grey haired woman.

  “Aren’t you pretty? Do you feel better?” Mrs. DeWitt commented, smiling at Tara as she yanked a canvas bag from under the table and pulled out a pair of knitting needles with a long fray of blue yarn attached. A baby blanket, obviously.

  “For my son and his wife. They’re having a baby. A boy, in case you couldn’t guess,” she snorted. “As if I wanted the surprise ruined for me. They had one of those ultra thingamajigs, you know. ”

  “Ultrasound,” Andy filled in the blank for her.

  “Right, ultrasound. Whatever the hell you want to call it, it ruined the surprise for me. In my day you took what you got and be damned if you didn’t like it. The picture they sent me didn’t even look like a baby, it looked like an alien, I tell you. ”

  Tara giggled. “Well, at least it allowed you to choose the color in advance for the blanket.”

  Andy snickered as he poured something from the pitcher into Tara’s coconut shell for her.

  “It’s not a blanket. It’s a pair of booties,” Mrs. DeWitt corrected as her knitting needles clacked together.

  Oops.

  “So, what brings a pretty girl like you to a place like this? Somebody as sharp as you should have a man waiting at home for them. ”

  Tara sighed. She’d gotten a lot of that sort of reaction since she’d lost all of the weight. Everyone assumed she should be married by now because she was thinner. Her own mother seemed to think Prince Charming was secretly supervising her weight loss by crystal ball and when the scale’s needle hit the magic mark, he’d come riding in on his white steed to whisk her away to the land fondly known as Skinny. Her dating experiences were limited and Tara kept it that way. No one wanted to date her when she was fat, so screw them now just because she wasn’t. “Nope, nobody waiting anywhere for me, I’m free as a bird.”

  “Maybe you can have one of the leftover lover boys here.”

  Tara’s cheeks burned. No Kelsey leftovers, damn it. “I don’t need anyone’s leftovers. I actually like being single,” Tara said through clenched teeth and a falsely bright smile.

  “Of course, you do, dear. Who wouldn’t if they looked like you? Men must be lining up at your door. Andy here has no one to call his own. ” Mary hinted suggestively with a wink.

  Jeez, she could have used Mary in the airport back on the mainland. Maybe she could have rustled that August up for her, Tara mused.

  As sweet as Andy was, it wouldn’t happen, not in this stratosphere, anyway. Tara wasn’t on a manhunt. She was hunting Kelsey Little’s…

  Andy smiled at Tara over Mrs. DeWitt’s head and shrugged his shoulders with a helpless gesture.

  So Mrs. DeWitt was a born matchmaker and experienced in working a crowd. “And what brings you to the show, Mrs. DeWitt?”

  Mrs. DeWitt peered at her from beneath her owl-like glasses and nodded to her plate. “The food. I live on a senior citizen’s budget you know. Cat food just doesn’t fill this old broad up like it used to.”

  Tara choked on her drink, catching the twinkle in Mrs. DeWitt’s grey-blue eyes. “I know what you mean, ” she teased back. “I was becoming bored with cheesy liver bits myself. But a single girl has to make ends meet.”

  Mary DeWitt cackled. “You have a sense of humor. I like that in a girl. So, you’re our foreman. ”

  “That’s me, at your service.” And God willing, a master manipulator.

  Jeez, manipulator? She was already thinking like the full-on bitch she desperately wanted to be and she hadn’t even begun.

  “You stole my job,” Mary accused. “I wanted to be foreman of the jury, ” she sniffed mockingly. “But after this afternoon’s little display from our bride Kelsey, I think I’m glad you got to be the head honcho. Is she really like that? I mean you know her, right?”

  Tara fought a sneer. That was only the beginning. If Ms. Mary thought Kelsey was horrible briefly, just wait until she’d spent a month with her. And then Tara froze at Ms. Mary’s reference to Tara and Kelsey knowing one another. “She did sound angry. Maybe she was just tired or something,” Tara offered. Impartially, objectively…”and yes, I did know her briefly in high school. We only had a class or two together so there isn’t much I can offer in the way of information about her other than we dated some of the same boys.” As if…

  Ms. Mary clacked her knitting needles down on the table. “Hmph. All I know is we were all tired, but we didn’t behave like she did. She sounded like a spoiled rotten child.”

  Tara didn’t agree or disagree, but Andy chimed in with, “Maybe these guys better think twice before marrying her, huh? ”

  Ms. Mary gave him a wink. “I know I wouldn’t marry a shrew like that. I’m sorry, Tara. I spoke before I remembered you were friends in high school. I hope I didn’t offend you if you were close friends.”

  HAH! Offend-schmend. “No, Ms. Mary, I’m not offended at all. Everyone has a right to their opinion and like I said we only knew each other brie fly.”

  Andy nodded his agreement.

  “So what was our big-mouthed, ill-tempered bride like in high school? ” Ms. Mary asked, her eyes looming large behind her glasses.


  Tara leaned back in her chair and hoped the dim lighting worked in her favor, because her face was on fire again. God, she hated lying. “Kelsey was very popular. A cheerleader and homecoming queen. We moved in different circles for the most part.” Brief, to the point, not exactly a lie. All of these “not really a lie” lies were going to turn her stomach into a pit of acid.

  Ms. Mary seemed to lose interest and said absently, “Well, that’s nice, dear.”

  Oy. Tara sank back in her chair.

  “Sure wish they’d had a show like this when I was your age. I was a looker,” Ms. Mary said, resuming her knitting.

  “I’ve no doubt about that,” Tara said with a grin.

  “Oh, the damage I could have done back then. But then I met Josiah and the rest is history. ”

  “How does Josiah feel about you being here?” Tara wondered aloud

  “He’s dead,” Mary answered flatly.

  Shit. Way to score points with the jury members, Tara.

  “It’s all right, Tara. From one pretty girl to another, it’s only natural for you to assume that I’m married too. Josiah was a good man, God rest his soul. I’m sure he’d never approve of me doing this.” She clucked her tongue.

  “Mrs. DeWitt is from Indiana.” Andy changed the subject, rolling his eyes at Tara over Mary’s head.

  “Gary, to be precise,” Mary said.

  “Yep and Diana is from Massachusetts, Walter is from North Dakota and Gianni is from California.” Andy pointed each juror out to her as his gaze briefly lingered on Diana.

  “She’s pretty, ” Tara commented to him with a whisper.

  Andy blushed. “Yeah, she is. But I think she’s engaged or something.”

  “Don’t let that stop you, Andy, ” Mary cut in. “You’re a fine looking fellow. ” Leaning across Tara, she straightened the lapel on Andy’s suit jacket. “Girl like that would be lucky to have a nice young man like you. ”

  Andy groaned his embarrassment.

  Tara patted his thigh to console him. “So when do we get to see the foo…er, men we have to work with? ”

  “I don’t know, but I hope it’s soon. I’ve been waiting a long time to get a gander at all of this prime male flesh. ” Mary set down her knitting and rubbed her hands together.

  Tara took her napkin and mocked a swab on the corner of Mary’s mouth.

  Mary waved her away with a chuckle. “I’m drooling, right? It’s been a long time for this old girl.”

  Tara winced as if her own mother had just told her she and her father actually had sex and then laughed at Mary’s eager attitude. “I think the festivities begin tomorrow. So we’ll just have to wait until then to see what we have to work with. ”

  The band struck up a conga line and Mary’s shoulders began to bounce to the rhythm. “I just love to dance. C’mon, Andy it’s time to liiimbo!” Andy shuffled off behind her, leaving Tara to watch the spectacle that was Mary shimmy over to the band.

  This was going to be a very interesting month. Mary wasn’t going to be easy to sway.

  Tara made a point of threading through the crowd, getting to know each juror.

  Time was of the essence.

  Glancing at her watch, Tara noted the late hour and smothered a yawn. All of this time change and deceit were killing her, not to mention running into hot guys with names like August. She shivered. Tara hadn’t had this much excitement in one jam-packed day in her entire lifetime.

  Maybe she’d walk along the beach before bed. Plot Kelsey’s demise or something…and frig the damn guilt.

  Chapter Six

  Everybody’s goin’ surfin’…

  August was pissed off. After the plane ride from hell with a bunch of jocks who couldn’t read the airbag instructions if they had pictures on them, a ride with some native guy whose name he couldn’t pronounce and he just knew was having a good laugh at his expense, then yet another plane ride, he’d had enough.

  He should have never listened to Greg. This was about the dumbest idea he’d ever had. What was he thinking when he decided to do this? He wasn’t thinking, that much was clear.

  But think of Kelsey. All tight assed and perky breasted. She could be mine. She could be all mine, along with a bundle of cash. His scorned high school counterpart revved its lusty engine.

  But what if she didn’t look like she did in high school? He sure as hell didn’t.

  Running a hand through his shaggy hair, August focused on the opposition as they sat at a long table, eating the “getting to know the competition” dinner. Platters of food, heaping with island specialties sat before them, but he wasn’t very hungry. The competition was undoubtedly stiff. There wasn’t an ounce of extra flesh to be found as he assessed each contestant. Plenty of easy monthly installment plans for the gym would be found in these parts.

  All told, there were twenty contestants. The first elimination round would ditch ten of them. Damn, he sure hoped they’d get rid of the guy whose teeth were so white against his bronzed skin it hurt August’s eyes to look at him.

  Shit. These guys were nothing short of perfection. Chiseled and lean, they epitomized the word “beefcake.” He couldn’t be this perfect if he spent his entire life in a plastic surgeons office.

  “Hey, dude.” Mr. Bulging Biceps leaned over him and whispered. “What’s that look for?”

  Dude. Did anyone still use that word? Dude… “Er, I was just thinking that the competition’s rather stiff and I’m still sorta reeling from being thrown on a plane to Hawaii in two seconds flat.”

  “Yeah, that it is and it was kinda freaky, but it wouldn’t be reality TV if they didn’t do something to rock your world, would it? I’m Aaron Caldwell, nice to meet ya.” Aaron licked his finger free of pineapple juice and stuck out a slender hand for him to shake.

  August squinted to get a better look at him. Lean, very tan and bleached blond. He was not the kind of guy who spent his time in an office.

  “August—August Guthrie, nice to meet you too. Whe re do you call home?” No, wait lemme guess, pretty boy… Blond, tan, the lame usage of the word dude… California!

  Aaron smiled brightly, revealing dimples which deeply grooved either side of his perfect mouth. “California.”

  Go figure.

  Play nice. He’d only just arrived and already he was making crude assumptions.

  Well, he was from California… August … his mental etiquette police warned.

  Oh, all right. He’d play nice. Jamming a finger in his ear, he shook it to shut up the advisory counsel in his head. “I’m from Colorado.”

  “Very cool, mountains and shit right?”

  August nodded affirmatively. Yeah, mountains and shit.

  “So what made you decide to try out for the show?” Aaron asked.

  Kelsey Little’s ass and a bet from my stupid friend…”I went to school with Kelsey. ” August assumed that information was okay to pass on. Henry Abernathy actually encouraged it in the acceptance letter he’d gotten in the parking lot.

  Aaron slapped him on the back with enthusiasm. “Oh, dude, the whole unrequited love thing?”

  Big word there, pretty boy. Unrequited… Um, love. No. Lust, oh yeah. “Nah, not love, but I liked her.”

  “Well, you’re one up on the rest of us, knowing her and all. So what was she like?” Aaron’s eyes were big and wide with interest now.

  August shrugged his shoulders. Wha t was she like? Did he actually know anything about Kelsey’s personality? Her likes and dislikes? Her eye color? He’d never looked at her eyes, just her ass.

  God, that was shallow.

  August hung his head. Yep, it was shallow all right, truthful, but shallow. He was hoping if he had the chance to get to know her, she’d be the woman he’d created in his mind. Warm, sensitive, loving … able to do the wild thing at a moment’s notice…

  When he took the compatibility test they’d given him just before the oral auditio n with Henry, he’d been a good match—at least that’s what th
e test guy said. Taking the test was another hurdle he’d passed with flying colors in order to get on this show. So he and Kelsey must have something in common.

  “She was … nice, very nice.”

  Aaron cocked his head inquisitively. “Nice? That’s it? I mean we all know she’s hot cuz we saw her picture. There was no way I was signing up for something like this unless I knew what the chick looked like, but nice? Don’t you know anything else about her?”

  Shame on me… Now, how would he answer that? Tugging his earlobe, August tried to squelch his yakking conscience. Always right on time, reminding him this hadn’t been the best laid plan. Or the best plan to get laid. No, he didn’t know much more about Kelsey than the shape of her booty. It was lust, pure and simple. Lust and a dare… Oh, you’re going to burn in Hell for this, August Guthrie.

  Damn his second thoughts. Shaddup, would ya? “We didn’t exactly move in the same social circles,” August offered carefully.

  Aaron’s grin widened. “Oh, I get it. You were hot for her, but she didn’t know you existed. You were a dweeb or something, right?” Aaron chuckled and slapped him on the back.

  August could feel sweat trickle between his shoulder blades as he used his thumb to push his imaginary glasses further up his nose, forgetting he had his contacts in. Jesus H, it was hot here, even at night. A cameraman swooped in on August and Aaron’s conversation, poking the lens closer to their faces. August fought an on-camera grimace. Henry said they should pretend they didn’t see the camera, which would be fine, but it didn’t have to be up his ass did it? “A dweeb? Well, something like that. Let’s just say, I was one of many who Kelsey didn’t know existed.”

  August Guthrie was no damn geek and he wouldn’t have footage of him saying so. Not anymore and this time she’d have to recognize that whether she liked it or not.