Matched

by Angela Graham

  The next guy is unremarkable in every way. He’s not particularly cute, but not unattractive either. His hair needs a trim but his clothes are higher end, and he’s got a smug look on his face. The guy next to him—the last one—is shorter, but all muscle. I’m guessing he’s an athlete, but I wait to make any changes until after Miles asks, “Do you personally know more than one cast member?”

  Interesting question, and I know exactly where he’s going with it when I see the grin on Jensen’s face.

  “Yes,” number nine answers, and I take a closer look since I’m now convinced he’s Jasmine’s ex. Between him and Jensen, I can honestly say Jensen wins in the looks department. At least he wins at something.

  That leaves the last male guest as Callie’s, and I’m feeling sure about it when I look down the line for Cruz’s question. What I find, I would’ve never expected; my belly tightens, my heart rate doubling at the sight. Cruz’s glare is so fixed on Jake, his brow line tight and nostrils flared, he doesn’t even realize it’s his turn.

  Then again, I’m known to misread things.

  “Cruz?” Tom’s third attempt grabs his attention. He straightens, catching my eye in the process before his gaze swings to number ten and he tosses out disinterestedly, “You take a lotta shit in your career?”

  The guy laughs. “Yeah, sure do.”

  Oh, I get it. I’m guessing he’s a gymnast like Callie. Other guys always gave the ones on our squad guff too, even though their upper-body strength and agility were phenomenal and they spent a lot of time with a team of girls—with their hands literally up their skirts.

  I write it down at the same moment Tom speaks, and our clipboards are collected immediately. “That’s all of them—ten exes! Let’s see how well you did on this test of your instincts. While your scores are tallied, let’s start the introductions.” Tom smiles, holding his hand out to girl number one.

  “Hi, my name’s Cameron and I work with Miles,” she says, and I’m blown away. “We dated a few years ago and ended things on good terms, so we’ve remained close. He’s an amazing friend.”

  He sure is. I smile his way.

  “Missed that one,” Callie whispers, and I nod in agreement.

  Up next is the cheerleader. I do my best to remain indifferent when she speaks. “Hi, thanks for having me. My name’s Sophie, and I started dating Court in junior high.”

  Wrong again. Guess the vibe was purely cheer envy.

  I chance a glimpse at Emma. Her jaw is locked and teeth grinding, clearly communicating her lethal thoughts.

  “We broke up after graduation, but I miss him.” She looks to Court, whose head is lowered, his slight smile unhidden. “I’m still in love with him, and he knows it.”

  Court looks up, but doesn’t say anything while Tom and the rest of us wait.

  “Okay, next,” Tom says, moving on after an awkward bout of silence.

  “My name’s Blaire, and I’m a cheerleader for the North Bay Ravens. I dated Oakley for a few months last year. Lot of fun.” Her eyes are dancing over him, and the jerk actually gives her a head nod and grin.

  “I’m Brandi,” girl four, AKA Boobs McGee, starts. “I’ve been with Jensen off and on for a few years, and have filmed a couple times with Jasmine. Both amazing lovers.”

  Jasmine’s face is in flames as the final girl jumps in.

  “Hey, I’m Veronica—Cruz’s chick.”

  And there’s the elusive jab of pain. Blood pounds in my ears as I run through the mental checklist every female has. Why her? How long? How’d he feel about her? And perhaps most importantly, why is she speaking in present tense?

  “Bullshit,” Cruz grunts, stepping forward. “She’s just a groupie who can’t take a hint.” He pivots toward Adam, who’s announcing his enjoyment with every nuance of his face, and flips him off.

  Adam obviously hand-picked this particular visitor. I’m just relieved he’s not with her…but thinking back to his casualness with Callie on the sofa that night, I’m sure something happened with Veronica at some point.

  The guys’ intros begin. This ought to be fun.

  “I’m Jake. I’m a long-haul driver—met Harlow where she works. Most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.” A perpetual charmer, he throws me a flirty smile. “We dated a while, but her schedule got too busy.” He looks right at Oakley. “She has my number, if that ever changes.”

  “Stay the fuck away from her!” Oakley shouts, shifting his weight, ready to make a move.

  Seriously, over Jake? He means nothing to me. My schedule wasn’t that busy—it was simply the perfect excuse to end things. And hello? We broke up again, he kissed Nadia, the cheerleader he fucked while he was away is here…so he cares why?

  That’s just it, though—he doesn’t care for the right reasons. This isn’t about me. This is a male-pride pissing match.

  “Calm down,” Tom instructs casually. “There’s security everywhere. So let’s focus on the game, shall we?”

  “Hi everyone.” Hawaiian-shirt guy sounds friendly and excited to be here, and I instantly regret thinking of him as a dork. I’m not sure how long they’re staying, but I bet it’s long enough for him to lose that optimistic spark. Like the rest of us. “I’m Charles, and I lived next door to Emma and Cruz.”

  He smiles at Emma, then waves at Cruz. Emma had a boyfriend, and Cruz let him live to tell about it?

  “Hey Chuckie.” Cruz grins. “Lovin’ the sandals.”

  “Thanks. My mom said I should get some beach gear before I came.”

  “Smart lady,” Cruz carries on. “How is she?”

  “So you dated Emma for a while?” Tom rudely interrupts.

  “Fourteen months and twenty-two days. She ended things after dinner on a Saturday night, but she’s still my friend.”

  “Sure am,” Emma speaks up. She blows him a kiss, which he reaches out, grabs, and clutches over his heart.

  He’s sweet. Not my type, but definitely deserving of a loving girl.

  Next we meet Pierce, a fashion photographer of few words other than, “Nadia and I were lovers.” Shocker—someone else Nadia slept with meaninglessly. Bet they had a lot of trouble digging up one of those to represent her ex.

  And then there’s Ian, who tells us he’s a porn director. “Met Jasmine early last year. I’d been dying to get an introduction, and Jensen finally brought her by for one of my parties.” His face devalues with a lecherous grin, proving his worthlessness sooner than even I could’ve guessed. “Girl proved she’s everything I’d heard and more. I was sold. We split up due to difference of opinion; I wanted her in a film she felt wasn’t right for her. I still disagree, but we see each other occasionally and there’s no hard feelings. Right, Jasmine?”

  She doesn’t even look at him. If I thought I could get a punch in before some crewmember creep grabbed me, I’d so throw it.

  “And last but not least, what’s your name?” Tom asks number ten.

  “Drew. I met Callie on the circuit. We trained for the Olympics in the same club, and spent a bit of what free time we had together.”

  “So you’re a gymnast as well?”

  Nothing gets past Tom.

  “Was, yes.”

  “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting all of you,” Tom says as a crewmember walks over and hands him an envelope. “And the winner is…” He opens it and reads. “With eight out of ten correct...Jasmine!”

  Excited she won, I give her a big hug and come eye to eye with Emma over her shoulder. I don’t say anything, but I’m relieved she’s no longer glaring at me. Instead, there’s the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips.

  “Congrats, Jas,” Emma says when I release her.

  “Congratulations, Jasmine.” Tom hands over a key. “The Posh Suite is all yours tonight. I think you’ll enjoy the room. Now there are cameras installed, but at least you have a lock to keep anyone you wish out,” Tom adds, his face lighting up. “And before I forget, our guests will be spending the night. Enjoy yourselves!”
/>   “I know I will,” Ian chimes in, his sickening display of lust focused on Jasmine.

  Confessional: Jasmine Cox

  “I’m hiding out in here since Jensen’s waiting for me to unlock the Posh Suite. This seems the only place to escape my past that I’m tired of reliving over and over again. My name’s Miranda Miller, and I’m already retired from the industry. I like Air Supply and Nicholas Sparks movies, damn it! I have a cat and a parakeet—my cousin’s watching them. And I CANNOT BELIEVE IAN AND BRANDI ARE HERE!

  “I brought Jensen, and I’m willing to pay for that mistake…and boy am I, because it was my decision! But this? Why would they do this—blindside and totally humiliate us on TV? Make me feel two feet tall?

  “I’m not here for exposure. I AM RETIRED! I’m here to help charities, try to give back, and show the world the real me, and this is how you treat people who are trying to be nice—exploit their every weakness, regret, and shortcoming? How fucked up is that?

  “I did not sign up for this shit, and will never forgive anyone responsible. Yes, I mean you, asshole! Mr. Charming Producer better steer clear of me tonight. Different, my ass.

  “Everybody better stay the hell outta my way, or I’ll smash this bottle over their head…once it’s empty.”

  Chapter 22

  The house is cramped with all the new company, eager to chitchat and flirt, but I’m not feeling social. I grab some lunch and an entire bottle of white wine before heading outside, avoiding everyone I can. I settle into the hammock with my plate resting on my belly, taking a moment and a deep breath. It’s early afternoon, and the sun is still high over the palm trees that offer their warm shade.

  Once I finish my food—and, to my horror, half the bottle of wine—I close my eyes and fall into the paradise of slumber.

  “Sure does look relaxing.”

  I wake to see Adam walking toward me, serious as always, but with an air of kindness. “Hate to interrupt, but I need you to make some kind of appearance in the house tonight.”

  Tonight? I notice the sun’s already setting, a cool breeze easing in. How long was I asleep? Not sure if it was the peace of the hammock or the wine that helped me sleep, but I silently thank them both.

  “Doubt I’ll be any fun.” I sit up, my head laden with a slight buzz. I place my feet on the ground and stretch my arms above my head.

  He stares out at the water. “Just stick around for an hour or so. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “Why, so I can swap stories with Oakley’s ex?” I grumble, reminding myself why I’m out here in the first place.

  He looks at me now. “Is that who you’re avoiding, or is it Veronica?”

  “What?” I laugh—a forced, transparent sound. “Why would I care about Cruz’s ex…if she’s even that?”

  There’s a weighty pause. “Cruz doesn’t date much, per se. Veronica was chosen to be here because she’s the closest I could find to an ex.”

  “So were they together or not?” Shit. Why am I asking this, and why is the cameraman standing there filming us? It’s not like they can use the footage of Adam.

  “Like I said, Cruz doesn’t date much.”

  “Could you be less specific?”

  His lip twitches. “Probably.”

  I fall back into the hammock and cross my arms and legs. “Funny. So can I ask you another question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why Jake? I had, like, three dates with him.” I close my eyes, getting comfortable again while I listen.

  “The production crew called around, and he was the only guy they found. It seems Cruz isn’t the only one keeping to himself.”

  I can’t think of a thing to say to that, and honestly, Jake is the closest thing to an ex I have aside from Oakley.

  “Oakley’s been warned to stay away from Jake after the incident during the challenge,” Adam discloses slowly. “However, it appears they’ve made peace. Playing a game of pool as we speak.”

  “Really?” My eyes fly open. “Oakley and Jake are getting along?” My voice drips with disbelief, ready to call his bluff.

  “Yes. They had a short standoff until Jake answered a question for Oakley, and then they shook hands. Easy enough.”

  “A question?” My eyes narrow, my body no longer relaxed.

  “Oakley wanted to know how well he knew you.”

  I shoot up and out furiously, the swinging hammock knocking into me before Adam grabs the edge to settle it. “He asked him if we—”

  “Not in so many words, but yes.”

  “Liar!” My head’s screaming louder than I am to lie back down and never go near wine again. “You’re just looking to start something, aren’t you? And here I thought you might actually have a soul.”

  Adam has the nerve to chuckle. “Harlow, I may be many things, but a liar is not one of them. The soul thing is questionable, however.”

  I roll my eyes, relaxing at his humor. “What did Jake tell him?”

  “To mind his own business, but not stress about a couple of dates that ended at the door. Oakley seemed to understand, and was okay with that. They’ve now moved on to football stories and mocking Drew for being a gymnast.”

  That’s all it took? Oakley’s not pissed that, when we were apart, I went out with and got to know another guy, enjoyed romantic evenings with him...he only cares if Jake fucked me or not? And why are they picking on Drew? He’s an athlete too—an Olympic one! There’s nothing wrong with being a gymnast.

  “It’s different to some guys—especially those spending their nights getting close to the man’s ex.”

  I must’ve asked all that aloud, but now I’m too confused as to whom he’s talking about to think properly. “What?” I throw out, exhausted and in need of some aspirin.

  “Harlow, Callie and Oakley may just be friends, but he’s spent the last few hours shredding into her ex with every dumb joke he can think of. What do you think that means?”

  My fingers rub my pounding temples. “Can you just leave now?”

  “No, you need to come inside for a while. Then you can go to your bed and sleep. It’s not particularly safe out here overnight.”

  I glance around, wondering what danger he’s referring to. “Fine, one hour. Happy? I’m sure there’s plenty of action in there already, so why the hell I have to endure a bunch of strangers is beyond me. I’m not gonna get in the cheerleader’s face, or Veronica’s—especially Veronica’s—so save your saliva.”

  “I’m worried about Miranda.” He sighs. “She’s been drinking.”

  Miranda? Oh, Jasmine…can’t say I blame her. “Haven’t we all?” I motion to my own bottle lying on the ground, the other half of its contents seemingly having spilled out at some point.

  “Yes, but this is different.” He hesitates. “She’s drunk.”

  I’m already started for the house when I stop and spin on my heel. “Drunk?”

  He nods. “I tried to slow her down, but she’s avoiding me. She’s pissed off Ian and Brandi are here.”

  I move back toward him. “Can’t blame her. Why’d you have to choose them to come?”

  “Not my decision. I tried to find an ex of hers from outside the industry, but the network makes final calls. Ian and Brandi had a plane ticket before I had a say in the matter.”

  “Can you at least make them leave?”

  “All guests are spending the night. Little I can do without cause.”

  “Right.”

  “They’re not her friends, Harlow,” I hear him say when I start walking again. “They bring out a side of her I’d prefer to never see again. She’s not herself right now, and I can’t get her alone to make her see reason.” He lowers his voice. “I don’t want the world to see her like this.”

  “Then why didn’t you stop her from drinking—you know, take away the alcohol?”

  He looks away, his face hard.

  “What’s wrong?” My anger and volume spike, my head tilting. “You finally realize you’ve been falling for a porn
star, and you’re not liking how that looks? You don’t want to see that side of her?” I shake my head. Yet another disappointment. “There’s only one Jasmine—all or nothing!”

  “Harlow.” It’s a low, rumbled warning that I choose to ignore, turning my back to him and stomping away.

  “Can’t stay and chat. Got a friend to help!”

  Drunk isn’t even in the same dictionary as what I find when I step inside. First of all, half the house is drunk. Jasmine’s wobbling on her heels and attempting to ascend the stairs, the key to the Posh Suite in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.

  I race to her and shout over the blaring music, “Jasmine!” But I’m blocked by a group of the guests taking their sweet time to move. I push through them unapologetically, yelling out again as I see Jensen and Ian flank either side of her.

  “We got her,” Jensen says, noticing me trying to shove my way closer. “No worries. I know how to take care of my girl, Harlow.” I watch them help her the rest of the way up, a dreadful knot of apprehension growing in my stomach.

  At the top of the stairs, I spot Brandi with a bottle of wine shoved under her arm. She snatches the key from Jasmine and races off down the hall toward the suite.

  This won’t be good. I don’t trust Jensen to look out for Jasmine, at all, but I’m only one person and not the strongest. I need…

  I scan the room. Oakley is in fact playing pool with Jake, while Drew and Callie sit on the couch, watching them and talking. Miles and Cameron are in the kitchen with Court and Sophie, while Emma sits across the room, staring. Her body is wound tightly, and she looks ready to strike when Sophie leans over to Court, laughing and whispering something in his ear.

  I spot Adam sitting on a chair outside by the pool, a crewmember handing him a stack of papers. Cruz sits beside him, talking about something, his eyes flickering to Emma constantly.

  Jasmine’s our girl, and we take care of our own, so I march straight over to Callie. “Hey!” I shout when I’m only a few feet away. She’s up instantly.