"What do you believe is the advantage of that?"
"Because it connects you to those who came before, and gives you a sense of familial history. Here, we almost pride ourselves on doing weddings and holidays in our own individual ways. But I think it would be nice to have some traditions that connect us through the generations. To know it had been happening for decades before you, and know that it will continue to happen for decades after you."
Troy smiled and gave the would-be audience enough of a pause to ponder what I'd said. "Who impressed you the most, do you think?"
I rolled my lips together between my teeth, trying to think. "I don't think I can answer that. Too many stood out, and all for different reasons. I don't think I can pick just one."
"Okay, fair enough. Could you tell me who you think is the front runner, at this point?"
I smiled and rolled my eyes. "That's the same question, just using different words. But fewer men did pass through my mind this time."
"And what was the deal with the flowers?"
"There were too many to keep track of. Names, attributes, personalities, and jobs! I had to categorize the ones that left me with the more remarkable impressions, so I didn't accidentally get rid of someone I really liked but got them confused with another man."
"What's your biggest fear with this whole situation?"
I sighed. "My biggest fear is that I am going to make a mistake and send Mr. Right home before I've had a chance to find out how right he is for me. It's hard to make a determination with so little to go on. I can tell you that the ones who didn't choose to show up in suits made a bigger impression on me than those who did. It really factors in greatly to who's going home tonight. Is that fair of me? I don't know. But I sure hope I'm not sending the wrong guy home because he has a limited cultural history, like I do."
"And, lastly, were there any red flags that went up tonight?"
"Yes. There were a few. A couple red flags about jobs and their compatibility with the lifestyle I want. A couple I have to question if they're here to find love or to promote themselves. But only one major red flag was raised about what I perceive his expectations of a wife might be. I just was not caring for the vibe I was getting off him."
"A culture-clash, perhaps?"
"Not necessarily. I just feel he happens to be looking for meek and obedient. And I am rarely either one of those."
"All right. If you're ready, we can go and put these men out of their misery for tonight."
"I'm ready."
The cameras cut and we stood. I followed him back into the ballroom.
Set Design had quickly deconstructed the platform while I was doing the interview with Troy. Now there were risers at one end, upon which all the guys were now standing. I was to be standing at the other end of the room. Each week, the distance between us would grow smaller and smaller, subliminally signifying that our relationships were growing closer and closer.
I entered through a door behind the crew that was all lined up on what would be my left. I walked in on Troy's arm as he led me to my end. When I looked up at the guys, my eyes were drawn to a chart set up on an easel, also to the left. Someone had made me a cheat sheet with all their names written in the order they were standing in. I guessed that was in case I couldn't see all the nametags behind the heads of the guys standing in front of them.
Troy paused long enough for all the red camera lights to come on. "All right, gentlemen. Emmaline is going to choose which thirteen men she is interested in getting to know better. Usually we only allow twelve, but with the addition of an extra contender this time, we'll give her a chance to get to know everyone remaining before having her eliminate the extra spot.
Gentlemen, if your name is called, you have a choice. Accept her offer to stay and get to know her more, and line up along the side wall, opposite the cameras, or decline the offer and make your goodbyes. If you're name is not called, she is not inviting you to stay and you then make the Walk of Shame, past the chosen men and on out to the awaiting cars."
Troy turned back to me, "Are you all set?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"All right." He pulled away and stepped back.
It was up to me to address the gathering now. I stood there and gazed out at the group of men assembled before me. "I'm encouraged. I wasn't sure what kind of mayhem I was getting myself into by agreeing to do this. And I've wondered if this wouldn't be the biggest mistake of my life. But, I think, tonight has opened the doors to many possibilities. And I stand here hopeful.
"There's a little girl inside of my head who likes to live in a fantasy world where things are simple and easy. A part of me had hoped that, on some level, I would, well... that I would just somehow know who my husband would be, the moment I met him. But that didn't happen. And I have to admit, tonight I've been so overwhelmed by so many of you that I could be staring my future in the face and I wouldn't recognize it. My head is spinning with possibilities. And it's going to take me awhile to process everything I've learned about all of you tonight.
"I want each of you to know that in thinking about how hard it's been for me to have any kind of real relationship, with the kind of nomadic life we lead, I've realized you've all had a harder time. I know, that in my experience, there are fewer single women living like this than there are single men. So, I understand where you're all coming from and what would bring you here to do this, even with the odds stacked sixteen to one against you.
"I can't promise any of you that you'll make it to the end. But I can promise not to drag anyone along for the ride just because I'm supposed to have a certain number of people here. If there's nothing there between us, then I'll let you each go as soon as I figure that out. I'm not here to waste your time anymore than I would expect you to accept an invitation to stay when you're not feeling it and waste my time. We all have lives and careers to get back to, and time spent away should be worth it.
"So, without dragging this out any longer, I'm going to start with my red-flowered men. Phillip?"
He smiled and moved to my sideline.
The other three guys with the red carnations were standing there with smirks on their faces, already knowing they were safe.
"Ardent?"
He nodded and joined Phillip.
"Mike?"
He stepped down and walked over.
"Liam?"
He fell into line across from the crew.
"And now my pink-flowered gentleman, Stephan?"
He shared a smile with me before joining the others, probably thinking about how he'd not wanted to swap colors.
Yamid puffed up, most likely expecting to be called next. But he looked deflated when I called someone else instead.
"Patrick?" I still hadn't figured him out, not even a little. I was hoping, that with a week, he'd open up a bit more and lose some of tonight's shyness.
"I'm sorry," he said and stepped down to the floor. "I don't think this is for me."
I nodded back at him. "Okay. It was nice to meet you."
He came forward and embraced me. "It was nice meeting you." Then he whispered in my ear, "It's not you. I just got more than I bargained for, coming here."
"No problem," I whispered back, knowing the mics were going to pick it up anyway. Then a little louder, "Goodbye."
"Goodbye. Good luck," he wished me.
"Thank you."
And he left. Off to do an exit interview before being allowed into the car, I'm sure.
Yamid cleared his throat.
I smiled at him.
And he nodded, with authority.
I wasn't sure if it was because he was used to running a portion of things back home, and was used to people doing his bidding, or what. But I could tell you that right then and there, I was done with it. He had no power over me, and with his attitude, he never would.
"Is there a problem, Yamid?" I asked him.
"I'm wearing a flower," he said.
"I'm well aware. I placed it there."
"You didn't call my name."
I matched his indignant tone, "Because you have a white carnation."
"And exactly what does that mean?"
All eyes were on me. "It means that I have absolutely no interest in you."
His face turned red about two seconds before he stomped down to the floor, ripping the white carnation from his clothing, and hurled an insult at me for being racist as he stormed on by.
He hadn't done his Walk of Shame very graciously.
I stood there trying to hold in silent laughter. Some of the guys stood in shock. Others were just as amused as I was.
Troy stepped forward. "Obviously, we'll edit that out... If we'll all take a moment to look at the sundae that Emma is trying to build, we can all see that only three out of the five scoops she's chosen so far are vanilla-"
"Two," I corrected.
He looked back over at my grouping of men and then back at me, "There aren't three?"
"Well, technically, I suppose. But Liam's coated in butterscotch, and that's a whole different flavor."
Troy cracked a smile while the others chuckled. "And then you have your scoop of chocolate."
"Well, of course, because I'm a girl and chocolate makes everything better."
"And Phillip?" Troy asked, not sure if he should be egging me on to continue with this scenario or not, but going with it nonetheless.
"He's, um..."
"I'm mocha latte, baby," Phillip said with a smile.
"Damned right you are," I answered back.
You could tell Troy wanted to shake his head at the fact that he'd all but lost control of the whole scene. He looked over at the head of production with a look that asked 'what do you want to do?'
The head of production made a motion with his hand, "Let's just roll with it. Slow the pace and we'll iron it out in the editing room."
"All right... Emma? What other flavors would you like to add to the... dish?"
My smile spread. "Drake, a girl needs more than one scoop of chocolate, would you join them?"
"Of course," and he moved to join the line of men.
Troy waited a few seconds, ever conscious of giving editing a spot to splice, and nodded to me.
"I could sure use a scoop of caramel. Ardent?"
He smiled and moved to the side.
Troy paused and nodded.
"And I need my other military hero, Trevor."
A look of relief passed through his features before he stepped down and moved to the lineup.
I waited for Troy to nod before continuing. I was out of guys that had made remarkable impressions on me. The ones I would choose to round out the selection were being kept in the hopes that once everyone was wearing their normal clothes, they'd have more of a fair chance for making of a connection with me. One-by-one I called them, and one-by-one they joined the line. James, Mitch, Mack, and Tyler.
"Emma, with Patrick choosing to leave on his own, you have one more spot to fill," Troy said.
I looked from TJ to Darren, neither one had sparked any interest on my part tonight. I looked over at Troy and shook my head. "I'm good."
His smile turned just a shade wry, "You don't want your thirteenth scoop?"
I smiled and shook my head again. I had enough ice cream to go around. "No, thank you."
Troy clasped his hands together, "All right. TJ, Darren, I'm sorry, but the time has come for you both to leave."
They both did the traditional Walk of Shame, past the line of keepers, and hugged me goodbye and wished me luck before exiting.
Troy turned to me and gestured at the men. "Are you pleased with your sundae?"
I looked the men over and nodded. "Absolutely," then I paused in case network TV wouldn't like what was about to come flying out of my mouth, "It looks like a damned yummy one, too."
Troy bit back another laugh and paused. "All right, gentlemen, we're going to bring this evening to a close. I hope you've all enjoyed getting to know Emma, and each other. I suggest you all use the next week to continue getting to know her more in depth. Each week more of you will be eliminated and some of you will run out of time sooner than others, so make this week count. And Emma? Keep your eyes open, you never know when first impressions can be misleading."
The cameras cut off and the crew wrapped.
The row of men started to relax back on their heels and the line began to look a bit ragged.
Troy regained everyone's attention. "Okay, okay. I know it's been a long day for everyone. Hang in there with me for a few more moments and we'll get everyone settled in to get some sleep.
"Men, crewmembers have brought back all your overnight bags, that each of you brought to the hotel this morning, when you met over there to get ready. Right now crewmembers are finishing with getting your bags placed in rooms. All bedrooms being used are on the second and third floors. On the doors to the rooms, you should find your name. When you find the door with your name on it, go inside. Whichever bed has your stuff on it is your bed for the week. It does not mean it's your bed permanently, just for this week. There are more bedrooms than we are using right now, but there aren't twelve and we didn't want to hear about how some have to share while others don't. So, for now, you'll all share.
"A reminder that tomorrow, or rather the rest of today, there are no formal gatherings planned. But there will be cameras around. They'll be observing you guys and your interactions, and they'll be looking to interview you for your reactions on tonight's events. But your first priority is sleep. Stock up on it now, get all pretty for the cameras when you get up, and venture downstairs when you're ready. You can also access whatever you want to bring up from your RVs at any point tomorrow. Breakfast is on your own, if you're conscious by then, supplies are in the fridge. A lunch buffet will be set up by the pool around one-ish. But someone is going to have man the grill..." Troy looked around at the crew, trying to see if there was anything he'd forgotten to tell them.
One of the crewmen barked, which earned him some odd looks.
"Oh, yes," Troy said. "A reminder that there is a dog inside the gated area. He belongs to us. Be nice. Don't kick her. And don't let her outside the gate as you go back and forth between your rig and the house. The dog is well behaved. She listens, tell her to sit and stay and she will."
"What's her name?" Mike called out.
"Goldie. And if she doesn't listen the first time, snap your fingers when you repeat the command." Troy turned to me and lifted his elbow for me to take. "I'll walk you back over to your cottage so you don't get lost in the bushes, Princess."
I stepped out of my shoes, bent down to pick them up, and held them in one hand before I took his arm.
"What is it with you and shrinking tonight?"
"It's an unlit, uneven path. I'm not twisting an ankle twelve hours into this."
Troy looked over at the guys, "I hope you're all looking for a practical and barefoot woman, because if not, you're out of luck here."
I smiled at the men. "Goodnight, sundae scoops."
"Goodnight," they echoed back, ready to disperse into the rest of the house.
Chapter Seven
The Day After
"Why is this path not lit?" I asked Troy on the way back over to the cottage.
"Because, if we made it too easy for them to figure out they can sneak over to see you, they'd all try to do it every night. Plus, if they have to think about it and work at it, it makes them feel like they're getting away with something. It makes them feel like they're gaining a bit of control in a situation where production and the girl are calling all the shots."
"You don't see stolen visits on TV, unless something big is going on," I said.
"No, you don't. You only see the formal dates and gatherings. You're going to have opportunities to see and get to know the guys during 'off' times, without the cameras always in your face. Some people act very differently when they think the cameras are gone, or when they try to take charge and sneak over to you. You need to be able to
see those sides of the guys as well. Otherwise, you'd have no way of knowing what you'd be getting yourself into by choosing a gut at the end of this."
"And you guys want a lasting marriage out of this."
He nodded. "It's what keeps our ratings going. Every time we get a couple married, our numbers go up."
"Do you pull them to the side and tell them that the path isn't booby trapped and they can visit?"
"Nope, and you'll learn a lot about who manages to sneak over and who doesn't, and how soon they start doing it."
"You've spent more time with them than I have at this point. Who do you peg for being first?" I asked.
"Trevor. He's been driving for us for a while. He's heard all the behind the scenes rumors. He's the one who'll know he can get away with it." We'd reached the door to the cottage by now. "Here you are, all safe and sound. Go get some rest, process everything that's happened. The cameras and I won't bug you until sometime towards evening. They'll spend the afternoon focused on the guys."
"All right. Goodnight."
He chuckled and pointed to the lightening edge of the sky, "Good morning."
I left him on the doorstep, went inside, and went straight into the upstairs bathroom.
It took many cotton balls to remove all the layers of makeup from my face, and I really wished they'd sent someone over to get all the pins out of my hair. I wiggled out of the dress, took off the jewelry, and stepped into the bedroom. With a sigh, I drew the curtains closed because the sun was now up. I threw back the covers, flopped into the bed, and started gathering the extra pillows around me to snuggle down for the night.
Right about now, I was missing my dog and how she'd always snuggle up beside me. And that made me smile because every time she snuggled up too close, I'd try to nudge her away.
Tuesday
Walk of Shame Page 7
