by Diana Orgain
“Why not?” I asked.
Harris cleared his throat. “Look, we’re all punching the OT clock now, can we get on with it?”
Becca nodded, putting on her headset and calling, “Action.”
We ran a similar version of the elimination scene we’d done only that morning. It seemed a blur to me already. Harris asked me about the date on the Santa Monica Pier and then the hot air balloon ride. He indicated that Scott had already received a champagne toast and was therefore safe from elimination.
One of the cameras panned the other men in line, who seemed to scowl at Scott.
Today I would need to get rid of one bachelor.
I called out, “Edward.”
Edward approached me.
“Will you accept this glass of champagne?” I asked.
He smiled. “Gladly.” He took the glass of champagne and returned to his place in the line of men.
“Ty,” I called out.
Ty blew out an exaggerated sigh as he walked toward me. He tipped his cowboy hat at me. “You called, Miss Georgia?”
I smiled. Becca would be very happy I was keeping her handsome cowboy around. “Will you accept this glass of champagne?”
Ty nodded and took the glass, then returned to his place in line.
Harris took a step forward. “Gentlemen,” he said, staring into the camera instead of at the men, “there are two of you left and only one glass of champagne.”
It was a tough call between Nathan and Paul, and I hesitated, evaluating my options. Nathan looked sharp in dark pants and a white jacket. His straw-colored hair was combed down with gel and his eyes danced. As always, a smile played on his lips. He looked jovial.
Paul stood stoic next to Nathan. His stiff stance betrayed him—at least to me. The cop in him would always be there, watchful, guarded, and, worst of all, cynical.
I took a deep breath. “Paul,” I called out.
He gave me a strange look as he accepted the champagne. A cocky smirk crossed his face as though he always knew I would keep him. He hadn’t understood how difficult the choice had been for me. I looked across the room at Nathan. His face was downturned and somehow his hair had escaped the confines of the gel and flopped into his eyes, making him look pitiful.
My heart broke.
“Nathan, please say your good-byes,” Harris said.
Nathan seemed stunned as one by one he shook hands with the other men.
Ty pounded him on the back and said, “Good luck, man.”
Nathan approached me and I said, “I’m sorry, Nathan, but you know I have to ask. Were you on the show for love or money?”
His shoulders dropped. “I was on the show for love, Georgia.”
The air rushed out of my lungs. I felt completely defeated. I’d made a mistake.
I wanted to take it back. Send Paul home instead.
Now, of the four remaining bachelors I had only one shot. The rest were looking for the money.
I looked around the room and everyone seemed to be giving me the “wrap it up” look. We’d all had a long day and the sewer stench in the mansion was suffocating.
I felt foolish for letting Nathan go. I would’ve had a better chance at the prize money by keeping him but at this point finding out what had happened to Pietro and Aaron seemed more important than any prize money.
I swallowed back my regret.
“Can I walk you out, Nathan?” I asked.
He looked up at me. “Yeah, sure.”
We walked out into the corridor, the camera following us. The awful sewer smell in the mansion seemed to mix with mold. It was difficult to breathe in the corridor and I raced toward the exit.
When we emerged out on the cobblestone path, I turned to Nathan. “I’m so sorry to let you go. It’s nothing personal,” I said. “It’s just that I don’t think we’re a match.”
He grabbed my hand. “Why not? Why does this keep happening to me?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, Nathan, but it’s not you. It’s me. I’m so sorry.” I gave him a hug. “You’re going to find the right girl. I’m sorry to say, it’s not me. But, please believe me when I say, you’re amazing and whoever lands you will be one lucky woman.”
When I returned through the corridor back to the main room the men were drinking their champagne and looking happy, despite the overwhelming stench.
Edward wrapped a hand around my waist. “Thank you for selecting me.”
I smiled.
Paul grumbled at Edward’s closeness and stepped toward us. Edward released me.
“Me, too,” Paul said. “Thank you for selecting me as well.” He gave Edward and me a nasty look.
I searched for Becca. “Am I allowed to announce the Carmel thing?” I asked into the bright lights.
Ty quirked an eyebrow. “Carmel?”
“It’s not for certain,” Becca said as she stepped out of the lights and into my line of vision. “I still have to clear it with Cheryl. Why don’t we end the scene on a toast?”
“Good idea,” Harris said, glancing at his watch. “I have to get out of here. I’m already into overtime and I won’t even mention the smell.”
Everyone grumbled about the smell.
Becca held up her hands. “Doing what I can, people. Doing what I can.”
“Where’s Cheryl?” Harris asked.
“Hot date,” one cameraman said with a snicker.
“That’s the second one in a row,” the other cameraman said.
“Who is she with? Who’s the lucky guy?” Paul asked.
Becca shrugged and made a face. I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Where exactly was Dad?
• • • • • • • • •
I was awakened by pounding at my door. I jumped out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was six in the morning.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
“Becca,” came the reply.
“What’s up?” I flung open the door of the trailer.
Becca was standing there, in jeans and a white top, her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“What?” I asked. “Why are you here so early? I haven’t even had a chance to get coffee going,” I said, hobbling over to the kitchenette and pulling out the coffee beans.
“I have good news and I have bad news,” she said.
I waved her into the trailer, groaning. “Start with the bad news,” I said.
She plopped down into my kitchen booth. “No, I know you. You’ll get wrapped up in the bad news and right now we need to move.”
“What? Move where?”
“We’re going to Carmel, via Solvang,” she said.
“Great. I love Carmel and Solvang,” I said.
“And hopefully I can get a day off and get to see—”
“Hey, if you get a day off maybe we can get up to San Francisco.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “San Francisco? What are you talking about? I want to get to Point Lobos and see the sea lion coves. That’s been on my list forever.”
“Well, I was hoping if we got up to San Francisco, maybe I can check in on Aaron.”
She held up a hand. “That’s my bad news.”
I looked up from preparing the coffee and stared at Becca. Her expression was somber.
“He died last night. Passed away at the hospital,” she said.
The weight of what Becca was saying hit me full force in the chest. I gasped and pressed my hand over my heart, feeling as if it might stop. “What! How? What happened? I was hoping to talk to him.” Tears sprang to my eyes and Becca leapt to her feet.
Her arms were around me in a second and she rubbed my back. “I know, honey, I know. It’s terrible.”
I separated myself from her. “Teresa was there yesterday in San Francisco. What if she pulled the plug?”
Becca made a face. “What? How could she do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m grasping at straws here, but it seems so fishy. Why all of a sudden does she have to go
visit her mother in the hospital? What hospital is she in? Do we know? Was it the same one as Aaron?” I demanded.
“Seriously, that’s your theory? That Teresa snuck up to S.F. to kill Aaron in the hospital? Why would she do that?”
I shrugged, collapsing into the booth. “Maybe she thought he could identify her. Maybe he saw her fussing with the bungee cords . . . or . . .”
It sounded pathetic even to my ears.
“But if he saw her fussing with the cords why would he jump? He jumped off the bridge voluntarily, remember? Would he have taken that chance if he’d seen her fussing with the cords?”
“I’m glad I didn’t get rid of Paul now! Does he know about this? How did you find out?” I asked.
“Cheryl told me. She got a call from the hospital. I don’t know if Paul knows. I haven’t been to the mansion yet.” Becca stepped into my kitchen to finish the coffee preparation.
I held my head in my hands and racked my brain for answers.
Could Aaron’s death have anything to do with Pietro’s?
Had Pietro seen anything? Were the two deaths even connected?
I sprang from the table. “I have to talk to Paul. Is Cheryl going to make any announcement to the cast?”
“Not likely,” Becca said. “She doesn’t think it has anything to do with the show now. She told me not to tell anyone, so please don’t—”
“I won’t mention it to anyone. Only Paul—”
Becca was about to protest, but I held up my hand. “He won’t say anything to the other members of the cast. I can tell he doesn’t like them and, you know, he’s not the chatty sort.”
“We need to get moving to Carmel,” she said. “Get some jeans on and let’s see if I can get to Paul. You have one more group date on the way. Everyone gets to go, including Ty.” She held up a warning finger.
I laughed. “Don’t worry, your cowboy is safe with me.”
Twenty-one
Solvang was a small Danish village located in the heart of Santa Barbara’s wine country, near the Santa Ynez Mountains. I’d fallen in love with Solvang when I was just a little girl. Dad and I had come through on our way to Santa Barbara one summer and I’d had the time of my life, not to mention I got to indulge in the best pastries this side of the Mississippi.
The town was founded by a group of Danish teachers and the name Solvang meant “sunny field.” It was full of windmills and home to the Hans Christian Andersen Park. There was a cute little town square with quiet, tree-lined streets that housed quaint, family-owned shops, bakeries, and restaurants.
I’d always wanted to move there. It seemed the perfect combination of small town and city. Plus the weather was gorgeous.
The crew parked my trailer on the outskirts of town and I got to wend my way around the cobblestone streets looking for Scott, Edward, and Ty.
I was anxious to talk to Paul about the new developments but I wouldn’t get to see him until the evening date in Carmel. I was looking forward to our date with a certain trepidation.
Part of me was still in love with him, of course. It’s hard to get over someone, especially someone you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with . . .
Tonight, I’d look into his eyes and still feel the same charge I’d felt when I waited for him on our wedding day. It was hard to believe that our relationship could really be over. And at the same time I was excited to see Scott and Edward in Solvang.
How could I have so many mixed-up emotions?
And then the awful thought came that at least one of them was on the show for the money, if not both. Could Edward be trying to pay his medical school bills?
And what about Scott? He was an enigma to me. He was sexy as hell, sure, but was he really ready to move on after his wife’s death?
As I rounded the corner I saw Scott, Edward, and Ty looking into a window. It was a designer shop with different men’s apparel on display. The camera crew was across the street filming a few shots of the town.
The men hadn’t seen me, but Becca had and she nodded for me to approach them, giving the cameraman a signal to film our exchange.
I snuck up behind Edward and tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, you!” he cried happily as he embraced me.
Scott snaked a possessive arm around my waist. “What about the rest of us?” he said, pulling me away from Edward and planting a kiss on my cheek.
I hugged him. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of love to go around,” I teased.
Ty tipped his hat at me. “Miss Georgia,” he said, winking.
I hugged him next, feeling his muscular shoulders through his thin western plaid shirt. He smelled like an intoxicating mixture of the outdoor air and men’s cologne. Becca was a lucky girl indeed!
Becca had instructed me earlier that we were to stroll along the streets, so the camera could capture Solvang’s charm. We were to end up at the castle arch at the entrance to the Hans Christian Andersen Park.
The crew arranged for us to ride bikes down a narrow street, toward the park. We found the bicycles and proceeded to ride them through the castle arch into the park. There was a skatepark with cavernous half-pipes that would challenge even the best.
I felt a little pang as I rode past those obstacles. Nathan would have had a blast here in Solvang and I bet he’d have been as adept at skating as he’d been at surfing.
Scott seemed to read my mind. “Nathan would have been all over this place!”
I laughed. “Yeah, we wouldn’t have been able to keep up.”
We rode past large oak trees to a small wooden playground that opened up to a larger playground with ladders and curved tunnel slides. There was an area for making music, complete with chimes, and a rock-climbing wall.
We parked our bikes in a grassy spot where a picnic table had been set up for us. Some of the crew were already there setting up equipment.
Becca directed us toward the rock-climbing area. “Why don’t you guys horse around over there for a bit and we’ll get a few candid shots.”
There was the unofficial dance that happened on the group dates, when one guy stepped forward and the others got busy doing something else.
As it was, Scott grabbed my hand and said, “I’ll race you to the rock wall.”
Edward and Ty leaned back and picked out goodies from the picnic basket.
Scott was a good climber. He reached the top in seconds. Of course, it was child’s scale so the feat wasn’t impossible, but nonetheless impressive. He looked down at me. “Are you coming up?”
I glanced up at him and shaded my eyes from the sun. “I kinda like the view from down here.”
He snickered and wiggled his behind for the camera. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
“Considering that it’s a rock-climbing wall made for children, I can safely say I’m not afraid.”
He jumped down from the top, about two meters, and landed on his feet. He grabbed my hands and leaned in close. “You’ve come so far,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.” His eyes were full of mischief as he said it and I found it hard to resist him.
We leaned in to kiss, shivers dancing up and down my spine as our lips met.
“Great, we got the shot we needed,” Becca said, jarring me from my romantic moment with Scott.
He pulled away from me slowly, his hands lingering on my waist. His mouth close to my ear, he whispered, “I don’t want to let you go.”
I sighed. “I know. I want to stay here frozen in the moment for—”
“Come on, lovebirds, we don’t have all day!” Becca bellowed.
Scott laughed. “Okay, I’ll walk you over to the others now.”
Scott deposited me next to the picnic table. The crew was having some technical difficulties; they’d lost sound.
“Why don’t you lounge on the blanket with Ty. I’ll get some shots; even with no sound we can montage the film and make it look good. Otherwise, we’re going to be too late to get to Carmel tonight,” Becca said.
Ty wrapped an arm through mine and said, “I’m up for lounging.”
“Can you lounge in a cowboy hat and boots?”
He lifted the hat off to reveal his full head of sandy blond hair. He placed the hat on my head and then flopped down on the blanket. I sat next to him and used the hat to shade my eyes.
There was a lone cameraman covering our shots. We weren’t miked and it gave us a bit of freedom.
Ty traced the line of my face with a finger. “What’s wrong, Georgia? You don’t look so happy.”
“Don’t I?” I asked.
“Nope.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Part of me, most of me, just wants the show to be over with, you know?”
He smiled. “Who are you going to pick at the end?”
I glanced over at the crew; they were busy packing up gear and fussing with the sound system.
“You got any inside gossip for me?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You mean you’d like me to tell? I would if I knew, but I don’t. And anyway, you’re good friends with Becca. Hasn’t she told you yet who’s on the show for love or money?”
“No way! She’s an ethical girl. She wouldn’t tell me if her life depended on it.”
Suddenly I thought of Aaron and regretted my choice of words. “Did Becca tell you that Aaron died yesterday?”
He propped himself on an elbow and frowned. “I thought he was in a coma . . .”
“Yeah, I was hoping he would get better,” I said. “I have to figure out what happened.”
“Why do you think something happened? Wasn’t it natural causes because of the accident? I mean, hitting the water the way he did.” Ty stopped talking and shivered. “Awful, wasn’t it? Maybe he just . . . you know.”
I sat up. “I have reasons to think there might be something else going on.”
A flash of concern crossed Ty’s face. “Like what?” he asked.
I didn’t want to tell him about Teresa. It wouldn’t be helpful to put ideas in his head. If you tell a potential witness what you think they might have seen, they will inevitably talk themselves into having seen it. Instead I asked, “Did you notice anything on that day?”
“The day on the bridge?” he asked.
I nodded.
He gave me a charming smile. “That it was windy as hell.”
