The Ultimate Blind Date

by Jill Ferraro

  Book One: The Ultimate Blind Date

  Sight Unseen-A Marriage Reality Show Short Read

  By Jill Ferraro

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and settings are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  The Ultimate Blind Date: Sight Unseen Book One

  Copyright © 2020 Jill Ferraro

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval permission, without permission in writing from the author.

  Thank you for purchasing The Ultimate Blind Date! This is Book One in the Sight Unseen Series.

  Book Two: Out of Sight, Out of Heart, is available now by clicking here! Book Three, Setting Her Sights on Love, will be released June 22, 2020.

  To receive special offers, exclusive content (including the prequel to the Sight Unseen Series, Book Zero: Before the Fall), and news about Jill Ferraro’s latest books, please subscribe to her newsletter!

  Click here to subscribe!

  You can also visit her website: www.jillferrarobooks.com

  Chapter One

  Brielle

  Brielle: This is it! See you at my wedding!!!

  Gabby: OMG I can’t WAIT!

  ◆◆◆

  Once she crossed the threshold of the apartment building, there was no turning back. Brielle’s hands shook with nerves and excitement. In just eight days, she would be married. Not only would she be married, but she would meet her husband for the very first time. And the entire thing would eventually be watched in living rooms across the country. Brielle took a deep breath, opened the door to the building, and loaded her suitcase into the elevator.

  When she arrived at her floor, she noticed how quiet the hallway was and wondered if anyone else lived there. The sound of her shoes on the carpeted floor was amplified and Brielle was suddenly very self-conscious. She tried to push away the nerves and walked down the hall until she got to apartment 713, her home for the next eight days. Before she could change her mind, she knocked on the door.

  There was a shuffling of feet before the door swung wide open. A face she recognized from her casting call opened the door.

  “Brielle!” the woman squealed. “We’re so happy you’re here! Thank you for arriving on time. Come in.”

  A wave of nausea washed over her as she entered the apartment. There were at least ten people in the room holding various recording equipment. Logically, Brielle knew she would be filmed but hadn’t given much thought to it until she was in her new, temporary home.

  “Let me get you a mimosa?” Brielle mustered a nod and the woman hurried over to the kitchen to grab her a drink. Brielle leaned against a barstool and tried to take some deep breaths. The woman seemed nice but Brielle distinctively remembered getting an uneasy feeling about her in New York. The overwhelm of what she was about to do was beginning to take over and her brain could no longer process what was happening around her.

  The woman’s voice jolted her back to reality. “You wouldn’t be the first to pass out right before filming!” She handed Brielle a large mimosa, which Brielle drank quickly in hopes that it would calm her nerves. “I’m Abigail, it’s so nice to officially meet you in person.”

  Brielle forced a smile. “I’m Brielle, obviously. And I don’t think I’m going to pass out.”

  Abigail shrugged. “Whatever. We don’t start filming until after we’ve gone over the rules. The cameras will be pointed at you for the duration of this meeting, to get you accustomed to them.”

  Brielle nodded. She realized she was still clutching her suitcase. Her knuckles were beginning to turn white as they gripped the plastic handle. “Is there somewhere I can put this?”

  “Of course! Just walk down this hallway and it’s your first door on the left!”

  Brielle avoided eye contact with the film crew laughing and joking around the dining room table as she passed by. She hurried into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

  She closed her eyes and steadied herself. When she caught her breath, her surroundings finally registered. The bedroom she was standing in was beautiful. The walls were crisp white and there was a shelf lining the room holding a variety of plants, inspirational signs, and tasteful knick-knacks.

  The bed was king size and covered in a large white duvet and several plush pink and grey blankets. Brielle counted at least 10 pillows. There was a fluffy blush rug under the bed and a comically large closet for the amount of clothing she brought.

  Brielle flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She relaxed and realized this was a pretty cool experience, living this luxuriously for a week. It made sense, that the rooms would be gorgeous. They were like a set for a television show.

  Of course, they were. This was a television show. And she was the star. The set had to look perfect, who wanted to watch a show filmed in an average 20-something’s cheaply decorated apartment? Brielle sat up, slowly, and tried to appreciate her glorified hotel room. It didn’t last long because soon her heart dropped into her stomach.

  As her eyes wandered around the perimeter of the room, she finally noticed the cameras. One in each corner. She knew she would be watched carefully but the reality of how that was done was beginning to set in. They would be watching her at all angles at all times.

  Brielle tried to remind herself that this is what she signed up for and focus on her end goal. At the end of the week, she would be married. She would have a husband, handpicked to be perfect for her, who would love and adore her for the rest of her life. That was worth a brief period of no privacy, right?

  The more she thought about it, the more she wondered how true it was. Luckily, she couldn’t think for very long because soon there was a knock at the door. “Brielle?” It was Abigail. “We really need to get started.”

  “Coming!” Brielle took a deep breath, got up, and went back to the living room with Abigail. She immediately noticed at least six security cameras tucked away in various nooks and crannies of the main room. She self-consciously smoothed her hair. The crew was set up now, the chatter had ceased. A man wearing all black, Brielle assumed it was Mark, the other producer she’d been speaking to, was sitting on the loveseat holding a clipboard.

  Abigail refilled Brielle’s mimosa glass and guided Brielle to an oversized armchair. She instinctively pulled the soft blanket draped across the arm around her shoulders and took another sip of her mimosa. It was minimally comforting.

  “Nice finally meet you, Brielle, I’m Mark.”

  “Pleasure.”

  “Shall we get started?” Abigail’s voice was an octave higher than before. Brielle couldn’t tell if she was nervous or putting on a show. She definitely wasn’t this nice in New York when Brielle last interacted with her.

  “Sure.” Brielle looked around the room and noticed the camera crews adjusting to ensure she was centered in their shot.

  “Just as a reminder, these cameras are not on right now. But as soon as we are done going over the rules and you sign your contract, they come on. Ok?” Abigail looked expectantly at her and Brielle nodded in response.

  Mark took over. “As you know, this is a marriage reality show. It’s called, Sight Unseen, because you will, ideally, be marrying a man you’ve only messaged through a device we’ve provided and have never actually seen. Your device has been cloned, meaning everything you send and do will be repeated on a device we have access to and can be used during filming. We may edit how much is seen by viewers but we will not alter the actual content written in the messages.”

  Brie
lle nodded and Mark continued. “Eight men have been chosen as suitable spouses for you. They were chosen after running both your application and their applications through our algorithm. We also interviewed all potential spouses to make sure they were a good fit. Do you have any questions about this?”

  Brielle shook her head and took another gulp of her mimosa. Abigail leaned forward and began talking, her voice more serious now that they were delving into the rules of the show. “At the end of our meeting, you will receive thorough profiles of each man but no photos will be shared. At the end of each day, starting today, you will eliminate one man. On Day Seven, you will decide which of the two remaining men you want to marry.”

  “After they are eliminated you have the option to watch their pre-recorded video or go on a date with the eliminated man. You may choose to date that man again the following night in lieu of whoever was eliminated that day. You are able to save one man from elimination after your date if you’d like. You do not have to exercise this if you do not want to, you probably eliminated him for a reason but on the off chance you think you made a mistake, we wouldn’t want you to send home your husband or marry the wrong guy.”

  Mark handed her a phone. “This is your device. We are not calling it a phone because you can’t make calls. You cannot browse the internet. You can take photos which we will use for promotional materials and you can send messages, though no photos, to your potential spouses. You aren’t able to start group chats.” Mark paused and pulled a lockbox out of the duffle bag resting at his feet. “Please put your phone and any other electronic devices you brought with you into this box.”

  Brielle powered down her phone and reluctantly put it into the box. “When will I get this back?”

  Abigail smiled. “As soon as your wedding is over.”

  Mark closed the box and put it back in the duffle bag. He pulled out a thick pile of papers. “There is a landline for emergency use only. You are able to dial for emergency services or can dial our studio.” He handed Brielle the pile of papers.

  “What’s this?” she asked as she flipped through the stack.

  “This is your contract. It’s essentially the same as the one we sent over via e-mail, some verbiage was changed. We need you to sign before we begin.” He handed her a pen.

  Brielle could feel all eyes on her. She had read through the contract sent via email multiple times, it all checked out. She was always taught not to sign a contract without reading it through. But everyone was waiting for her, this would take hours to comb through. And it was probably the same contract as they sent over, right?

  “Okay…” she said hesitantly. Mark and Abigail shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Brielle picked up her pen and paused briefly before signing. Abigail audibly sighed of relief from the couch.

  “You may power on your device,” Abigail said, taking the stack of papers from Brielle. “And we start filming in 5...4…” She continued counting down as she and Mark quickly got up from the couch and headed to the door.

  Brielle took a deep breath and hit the power button. After a few moments, the screen lit up. The screen was blank except for the messages button. Before she could open the app, the device buzzed.

  She received her first message.

  Chapter Two

  Asher

  Asher: I’ll text you as soon as I can. If you don’t hear from me soon, I’ll see you at my wedding. Love you!

  Mom: I still think this is nuts but I love you too, sweetheart.

  ◆◆◆

  The men gathered in the lobby of the apartment building. There were eight of them, including Asher, and mostly kept to themselves along the sidewall. Carl, Jason, and Damien, who had already introduced themselves to the group, were congregated on a sofa in the middle, loudly discussing how hot they thought their potential future wife was going to be and wondering when they could crack open a beer.

  Asher tried his best not to get involved in their conversation. It was barely 6 AM and they were already trying to drink. He looked around and began to wonder if participating in a reality show was a good idea. He had just turned 30, he wasn’t too old to settle down the old fashioned way. But still, he’d had his heart broken and was ready to find his forever person. A little matchmaking and TV magic couldn’t hurt, right?

  He knew that there would be other men there and logically, knew there would have to be some duds. It was reality TV, after all. Pitting eight, kind and mature men against each other to respectfully vie for one woman’s hand in marriage didn’t exactly make for good television. Viewers wanted drama. Asher hoped he wasn’t chosen for drama because he really hoped this woman, whoever she may be, was the woman he was supposed to marry.

  At 6:30 a man wearing a headset, jeans, and a black t-shirt emerged from the elevator. The group of men got quiet as he walked into the center of the room.

  “Thanks for getting here on time, guys. I’m Mark, I’m a co-producer on the show. We are going to head upstairs but we need to film you getting in the elevators. If anyone wishes to not be filmed at this point, you can leave.” He looked around quickly and no one objected. “Great. You already signed your contracts digitally. We have put a paper copy on each of your beds in the apartment upstairs. Any questions before we get started?”

  Asher looked around. Despite a few dazed faces, again no one raised their hands. Mark gestured for them to follow him to the elevators.

  “I need four of you to file into each elevator. The rest of you stand behind the camera crew which should be here...now.” The elevator dinged and two people holding the film equipment emerged. “You four, go sit down and look nervous. When I say go, count to five and then get up and head to the elevator. You’re going to Floor 4.”

  Carl, Damien, Jason, and another man grabbed their bags and sat down in the lobby. They followed Mark’s directions and were whisked away to Floor 4 quickly. Asher repeated the ritual with the remaining three men and soon found himself in a generic hallway. He figured out pretty quickly what apartment they were headed to from the loud cheers inside.

  The door opened before he could knock. A woman who looked vaguely familiar opened the door. “Hey guys, I’m Abigail, the other producer on the show. Come on in and find your rooms.”

  The apartment was exactly what he suspected. Grey walls, large navy sofas, and hardwood floors ran throughout. There were four bedrooms and two full beds in each room. They looked like they were plucked from a catalog. Asher was sharing with Damien, who seemed to be the least obnoxious of the three musketeers running up and down the hallway shouting.

  The bedroom was sparsely decorated but the bed looked comfortable enough. Resting on the grey duvet was a stack of papers that Asher realized was the contract he signed. As he picked it up, the camera in the corner of the room caught his eye. He turned around and realized there was one in every corner.

  Abigail’s voice suddenly filled the room. There was a speaker near the bedroom door. “Guys, come back to the living room, please, for a presentation.”

  Asher set his suitcase on the bed and tucked his contract safely inside. Then, he ventured back down the hallway to the living room. A projector was set up and the men piled onto the couch. Asher sat on the floor and leaned into the side of the couch.

  Abigail stood up and waited for the chatter to die down before she spoke. “Welcome! This morning, we will watch each of your introduction videos-” Her speech was interrupted by a collective groan. “Relax, guys. So we’ll watch your videos, I will go over the rules, and then you will be given your devices.”

  She nodded to Mark, who started the videos. They were short, no longer than twenty seconds each. Asher tried to remember the names of the other men. He, unfortunately, wouldn’t forget Jason, Carl, or Damien. Besides the three musketeers, there was also Brandon, Matthew, Shea, and Peter.

  The videos were all generic and light. No deep dark secrets were revealed. Just a quick introduction to each man, his job, and a few of his favorite things.

  Abi
gail stood up. “Now, we’ll go over the rules and expectations. You have been chosen as a potential spouse for Brielle Parker.” Abigail gestured at the projector and Brielle’s face appeared.

  It was a strange moment for Asher. He thought Brielle was gorgeous, he was immediately attracted to her green eyes and long brown hair. But as he sat there, studying her, he realized the other seven men in the living room were doing the same thing. He instinctively felt protective over her and far more jealous than he thought he would. She was quite possibly going to be his wife by the end of the week. He tried to push his insecurities out of his mind and tune into what Abigail was saying.

  “You will be given a complete profile of Brielle, her likes and dislikes, and her history. You will also be given an array of photos from her social media profiles and show application.” Abigail lowered her voice a bit. “She does not know you have her photos. She does not have access to your photos and has no idea what you look like. Sharing that information with her intentionally will disqualify you from the show.”

  Asher shifted uncomfortably, and not because his legs were starting to numb from sitting on the floor. He didn’t feel comfortable starting his marriage off on a lie. Still, Brielle had to be expecting some twists and turns. He hoped she would forgive him for not telling her...if he even made it to the wedding.

  “You will communicate only through messages on this device.” She held up a smartphone. “It is not a phone because it does not make calls. You do not have the ability to communicate with anyone outside this room. Doing so, somehow, is grounds for removal. There is a landline by the kitchen sink that dials to the producers and emergency services only.”

  Mark began handing out devices as Abigail continued. “One of you will be eliminated each day for the next eight days. After you are eliminated, you will film a short video to Brielle. She is allowed to go on a date with you before sending you home if she chooses. If she goes on a date with you and she realizes she’s made a mistake, she can save one potential spouse from going home. So you better make it the best date of your life.”