The One

by Danielle Allen

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “Because he’s your type. And this is a great way to get back out there. You haven’t dated anyone since Tate.”

  I groaned. “My dad said the same thing.”

  “I think your dad posted a picture of him and Tate online on Father’s Day last year.”

  Laughing, I choked on the sip I’d just taken. “You are ridiculous,” I sputtered, tears wetting the corners of my eyes.

  “It’s true though! Your dad loves Tate. I’m sure if you told him the way he left things with you, he wouldn’t be such a fan.”

  “I can’t break my dad’s heart like that. You should see his face when a New York Generals game comes on.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Did Tate even play? He’s third string.”

  “Exactly!” I shook my head. “Tate Lewis is definitely the past.”

  “And Julian Winters is the future!”

  “Come on, Koko. Seriously?” I objected with an undeniable giddiness that caught me off guard.

  I put my glass down and pushed it to the other side of the coffee table.

  I’ve had enough to drink.

  We clicked through a few more pictures and talked about the apparent physical transformation Julian went through from a cute, nerdy college kid writing songs in his dorm room to a sexy, geek-chic grown ass man writing songs for almost everyone.

  “Okay, enough of this,” I announced, closing the laptop and removing it from her lap, placing it on the coffee table. “I still need to unpack and nap before work tonight and I have to go to urgent care to see if a doctor can squeeze in a physical and STD testing because I have to have it on record that I am clean as of one week of the show. Oh and I have to mentally prepare myself for Thursday’s interview. So lots to do and you’re trying to get me drunk.”

  Koko’s small, angular eyes widened. “I didn’t know they did that! But it makes sense. The last week before he makes his decision, the bachelors take their top two women to Destination Desire.”

  “What the hell is that?” My eyebrows seemed to have relocated and established permanent residence in the middle of my forehead.

  “You know? Destination Desire? Pound Town? Penetration Station? Knocking boots?”

  I looked at her blankly. “What the hell happened? Who are you? I leave for a week and you sound like a middle school boy!”

  She laughed. “I’ve been trying to take a crash course in The One and things are blurring together. But the point is, during the last week, when he has two women left to choose from, he fucks them to see which one he likes best.”

  “What? At the same time? Over the same weekend?”

  “No…” Koko made a face. “I don’t think so. Okay, I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s two separate trips. He takes a couple of days to deliberate and then he makes his selection.” She must have read my facial expression because she added, “I’m sure it’s not as skeevy as it sounds.”

  “Having sex with two different women hours apart…classy.”

  “Don’t think about that! That’s weeks away! You just need to focus on getting on the show and meeting Julian Winters. Are you looking forward to that at least?”

  It sounded like a question, but I knew it wasn’t. She already decided how I felt. I pursed my lips and cocked my head to the side.

  “You’re into Julian, aren’t you?”

  Again I stayed silent. But my pursed lip twitched and I prayed she didn’t see it.

  “Ah ha! You have a crush!”

  The word forced my lips to curl upward. I fought the urge with all I had in me, but failed.

  “AH!” She let out a short, but loud yelp. “You do!”

  I shook my head profusely, my hands lifting, palms upward, in confusion.

  “I knew it! I knew it! This is so cute. When was the last time you had a crush?”

  I stood up and walked around the couch. “I don’t…I meant to say…ah, I…forget it,” I chuckled, stopping near where I’d dropped my bags on the floor. “He’s cute and I’m intrigued, but that’s just because his lyrics read like poetry. And you know how I am about poets.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, you’ve always had a lady boner for poets. It’s impressive that you have such a Maya Angelou vibe, but you picked a straight-laced career.” She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. “Which is why falling in love with a musician who you call a poet is exactly what you need to balance you out.”

  Putting my hands on my hips, I arched an eyebrow. “First of all, I don’t know who you’ve been hanging out with while I’ve been gone, but if you say ‘lady boner’ again, I will smother you with a pillow. Second, and most importantly, yes, he’s attractive and talented and a poet. But I’m not seriously interested in a man who is trying to sleep with twelve different women as they compete for his affection.”

  “Okay, I admit the situation is not ideal. But…” She stood up and waved her arms in the air. “Hear me out, you two have a lot in common! Did you read the article about how when he has down time, he goes out with his friends to do karaoke?”

  I read the article.

  “So we both like karaoke. So do you. So do millions of other people,” I argued, fidgeting under her excited gaze. “I feel like you’re trying to push this because you feel bad that you kind of forced me into telling my parents that I’m going on this sexist show.”

  She cackled, her gasping laugh amusing me. “You are not going to put that on me! That was all you.” She walked around the couch until she was directly in front of me. “Don’t be mad at me because you and Julian would be perfect together.”

  Perfect.

  I was more than a little uncomfortable because I didn’t believe in perfection in relationships. Perfection was the outfit I wore to meet Tate that night. Perfection was the flawless three karat diamond ring Tate purchased to propose to me after graduation. Perfection was tied to my broken ideas of monogamy, commitment and forever. Perfection was what movies and television shows propagated to make viewers believe in happily ever after. But I knew two things for sure: perfection didn’t exist in relationships and happily ever after was a choice.

  I sighed. “You and I both know that perfection—.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, you and Julian would be amazing together.”

  I tried not to smile at her antics. “Wait a minute.” I cocked my head to the side. “Twenty-four hours ago, you told me I needed to give Ethan a chance.”

  “Ethan who? We’ve moved on to a hot, famous guy.” Koko pulled her hair back into a messy bun. “Now come on, let’s figure out what you’re wearing to this interview. Once Julian meets you, you’re definitely getting picked to be on the show. After you’re at the mansion, fireworks will explode and your lady boner will be at full salute and then you’re going to fall in love for all of America to see.”

  She turned on her heel and skipped away with her middle fingers in the air.

  “I kind of hate you right now,” I called after her playfully, causing her to laugh.

  Grabbing my bags, I trudged in the direction of my bedroom.

  *****

  Chapter 3

  The leather pleated skirt skated against my thighs as I made my way through the crowd of gorgeous women and headed down the hallway toward the restroom. I didn’t think it was an accident that a woman bumped me, causing me to spill a little bit of champagne on my white chiffon shirt. I had to bite the inside of my lip and walk away to keep from saying something that was going to get me kicked out before the interviews even started.

  It was supposed to start at six o’clock; however, once we had all arrived, we were informed that the interviews would happen after the cocktail party. I didn’t recall rolling my eyes, but the urge was there.

  I just need to get on T.V for one scene and then I can be done with this shit.

  I pushed the bathroom door open and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized it was empty.

  Thank God.

  Making a beeline to the mirror,
I smiled at my reflection as I drew closer. From the coarse curls wild and loose around my shoulders to the black spiked heels, I stood out in the crowd. That could be a good thing or a bad thing, but my hope was that it was good.

  Women who all generally looked to be between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-four and varied in physical appearance wore dresses that ranged from short and flirty to long and elegant. Most of the women participated in a weird dynamic where they would size each other up and then giggle nervously together whenever a door would open. It was such an odd experience. We were gathered in the L-shaped lounge to wait for a chance to be interviewed for the possibility to compete for a man we may or may not like.

  I kept to myself at the bar.

  How did I end up here? Oh that’s right. I was too scared to tell my parents that I freaked out. I was too scared to tell my loving, supportive parents that after all of their hard work, I had disappointed them. I paused. The thought of their disappointment left a bad taste in my mouth. I do still want to be a lawyer. I just… I don’t know. I just need to focus on something else for a second.

  Squaring my shoulders, I let out the breath I was holding.

  The door banged against the wall as it swung open. Two blonde women loudly entered the restroom, talking shit about some of the other women. Although I could clearly be seen, they ignored me and continued their pettiness.

  That’s when it hit me.

  I can’t do this. I’m going to tell my parents the truth and get the hell out of here. If they are disappointed, at least I won’t see it in their faces. By the time I make it back to Virginia, they will be over it.

  Refreshing my lipstick, I gave myself another once over and smiled at my appearance again. With the knowledge that I was going to leave the cocktail party fresh on my brain, I was fresh out of fucks to give. Twisting to look at the way my ass made the skirt flare out in the back, I nodded in appreciation.

  I moved toward the door, but stopped short.

  “Real classy,” I called out to the blondes who were still calling other women derogatory names as they drunkenly fixed their makeup. “Calling women you don’t know ‘whores’ says more about you than it does about them.”

  The one in pink mumbled something I couldn’t hear, causing the one in blue to snort with laughter. They walked toward the exit, closing the distance between us. My fists clenched in anticipation.

  California law states that I can't be found guilty of a violent crime that I commit in self-defense if I need to protect myself from these catty bitches.

  I smirked, sizing them up as they drew closer. Although there were two of them, they were petite and I wouldn’t go down without a fight…even though, they didn’t look like the fighting type. They looked like the type to spread vicious rumors about their enemies and then sleep with their men out of spite.

  I stared at them hard as they narrowed their bleary eyes at me and then walked around me. The one in the pink muttered something as they opened the bathroom door.

  “What was that?” I asked, following behind them. I stopped, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said good luck. I’m sure you and your fat ass are exactly what Julian Winters is looking for.” The sarcasm dripped from the words that she threw over her shoulder. Both women fell into a fit of giggles as they bumped into a waiter heading away from the party. “Get out of the way!”

  I rolled my eyes at their rudeness. The kitchen was around the corner and down the hall from the restrooms. The poor guy was probably on his way to get another tray of crab cakes and they just ran into him like he didn’t exist.

  With a deep breath, I tried to shake off the entire encounter with those two. I stared daggers into the back of their heads. Rolling my shoulders back, I slowly let go of the desire to find them in the crowd and trip them as I moved in the direction of the party.

  “Hi,” the waiter greeted me.

  He was stopped, leaning up against the wall and staring straight at me. Having his undivided attention threw me off and caused me to freeze mid-step.

  “Hi,” I replied, eyeing him skeptically. There was an air of familiarity with him that I couldn’t place. Los Angeles sometimes felt like a huge version of a small town.

  Do I know him? Did he apply to work at Breakers? I wondered, analyzing his face. His ominous, dark eyes, scruffy, dark hair, and orange tinted skin gave him a bit of a disheveled look, but he had a remarkable smile that set me at ease. No, that can’t be it.

  “I heard what she said to you. She was rude.”

  “Jokes on her. I love my fat ass,” I replied, winking at him.

  “I like you.” His broad shoulders shook as he laughed to himself. “I’m Evan. Having a good time?” he asked casually, pushing the sleeve of his black dress shirt back up toward his elbow. His tattoos caught my eye.

  I’d stayed to myself all night, nursing the same glass of champagne for almost an hour. Our phones and other electronic devices had to be left in the car. Most of the women I’d come in contact with were either nervously talking about nothing or meanly bashing the other women in the room. I didn’t want to be a part of any of it so I sat at the bar alone. Evan was the first person to try to engage me in a real conversation. And for the first time all evening, I felt comfortable.

  I backed up and leaned against the wall directly across from him. Tilting my head to the side, I smiled. “Zoe. And no, not at all.”

  His smile widened. “Why not?”

  “This whole thing is crazy. I can’t believe I’m here. I really think I’m having a quarter-life crisis because this just goes against everything I believe in.”

  He tucked his head down a bit and chuckled. “What do you mean?”

  “Reality TV, dating shows, pitting women against each other to compete for a man, superficial conversations with even more superficial people. Everything that The One stands for is pretty much near the top of my bullshit list.”

  His teeth were straight and white, resulting in a captivating smile. It was almost buried in his unruly beard, but the moment I noticed it, I couldn’t look anywhere else. He ran his hand down the side of his face. “So why are you here?”

  “That’s a good question.” I smiled, not quite understanding why I was confiding in the stranger. “Quarter-life crisis strikes again I guess. This isn’t me at all. I don’t do things like this and I don’t make rash decisions. I’m not at all a risk-taker. And I just made two huge life-altering decisions in a two-week time span. The first one, I won’t get another opportunity to change it until later. But this, I could still stop this train wreck. I could just leave right now…” I shrugged.

  “But here you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  We were both quiet for a second before he lifted his broad shoulders innocently. The sound of Koko’s favorite musical group filtered down the hallway toward us.

  “In the spirit of not being completely negative, the music isn’t bad,” I offered.

  His smile grew. “You like the music?”

  “Yeah, that’s been the only thing getting me through this.” I gestured to the party. “Well that and…“

  I hesitated to tell a stranger that I was moved and compelled to meet Julian Winters because of his words. So I tried to change the subject. “My best friend loves Super Casanova. Have you heard of them? They’re pretty good.”

  “I know what you’re doing and you’re not getting away with it that easily. The music and what? I won’t judge. A couple of people in the kitchen were saying that the contestants get a thousand dollars for each round they complete or something like that. Everybody has to make a living somehow. No shame in that.”

  “It’s not the money. It’s…” My sentence trailed off and I looked at the ceiling before returning eye contact with him. “My best friend signed me up without my consent and then I told my parents that I was going to do the show. So I’m here so I won’t be a liar.”

  “You get more and more interesting by the
second, Zoe.” His hands seemed to bury deeper into his pockets, elongating his torso as he stared at me intensely. “I think there’s more to it though. You don’t seem like the type of woman to do something that you don’t want to do.”

  I smirked at his perceptiveness. “You don’t seem like the type of man to beat around the bush.”

  He laughed. “Okay, you’re right.” He pushed his sleeves up on his elbows again. “You’re not like anyone else I’ve met tonight.”

  “Well, I stand out for a number of reasons,” I countered playfully, casting my gaze toward the group of women that could be seen mingling.

  “That’s the truth.”

  I turned my head in time to see Evan’s eyes traveling up my body.

  Okay, maybe I should head back.

  When our eyes met, I couldn’t read his expression but I could feel his interest. A flush came over me.

  I should definitely head back.

  A waitress with a tray full of shrimp sauntered between us, giving him a long glance on her way from the kitchen to the party. I waited until she passed before telling him goodbye.

  “Well,” I started. “I—”

  “So I’m not going to bother trying to ask you for your number since you’re here for a chance to be with that music guy…” He paused as if waiting for me to dispute his claim.

  I lifted my left eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

  He smiled. “I figured. But I guess I just have one question. There’s a room full of women, women like you, all here for him. What is it about this guy?”

  “He intrigues me,” I answered without hesitation. “Some of these women are already saying that they love him. They don’t know him to love him.” I shook my head. “That’s what I hate about these shows. Just complete bullshit. But I am intrigued by Julian Winters. I know I didn’t sign up for this, but after getting acquainted with his work, I had to try to meet him. Anyone who writes poetry for a living is someone I need to know.”

  “Poetry? I thought he was a musician. A songwriter or something.”