Whose Bride Is She Anyway

by Dakota Cassidy

  Just then, Vinny, the Italian Stallion waved to Tara from two guys down the line.

  That’s it! They’d better back the fuck off. They were here to win Kelsey, not Tara.

  And he was here to do what? Win the big stuffed panda bear?

  Okay, it was pissing him off that these jerks were covertly observing Tara behind sunglasses that hid nothing but lust! Beach boy tilted his sunglasses upward and nodded at Tara casually. How observant did they have to be? Weren’t they here to win Kelsey?

  Reality check here, August. That’s why he was here too. This thing with Tara was just a mere physical reaction, it would pass.

  It better, cuz it was show time and he had a hard on… And it wasn’t for Kelsey.

  Crap. Kelsey was thirty or so feet from him on the other end of the pool. They’d kept her secluded with a big, filmy tent around her. This was stupid. They already knew what she looked like.

  Ah, but Kelsey didn’t know what the contestants looked like. Duh.

  Henry Abernathy ran toward them, his face flush with the heat and obvious excitement. “Okay, boys, its show time. Take your places, please and do as you were instructed by the stage managers.”

  August only vaguely heard Henry as he tried to focus on seeing Kelsey for the first time in twelve years. Shit, what was the instruction?

  When they call your name, make an entrance.

  Aaron leaned forward and grinned his oral wet dream of a smile. “Ready, man? ”

  August nodded. Was he ready? Hell no.

  All at once, the pool area took on a serene calm, everyone remained still and then, Preston Weichert entered the picture. His dulcet tones invited the viewing audience to join them for a new edition of, “Whose Bride Is She Anyway? Where marriage means money. ” Preston spoke as though he were intimately sharing a personal conversation with each and every audience member.

  A blur of silent movement had the men shuffling toward their assigned spots as each contestant’s name rang out in the humid air.

  August’s legs moved like lead, his girlie sandals flip-flopped noisily as he clunked down the long walk to Kelsey. Twelve long years of waiting was now, officially over. Do you hear that? August scolded his hard on for Tara. It’s all about Kelsey now, buddy. So just forget Tara Douglas because it’s show time…

  * * *

  As each contestant made their way to the end of the pool, where Kelsey would eventually reveal herself, the jurors busily rated them. Tara could hear Ms. Mary snicker softly.

  Tara tried to keep her face impassive as each hunk sauntered by. A dark haired, beef of a babe strolled nonchalantly past her chair and winked arrogantly at her.

  Oooh, he’s hot as the day is long!

  Be quiet, Tara hushed her libido… I’m thinking.

  His name was Vinny. Vinny, Vinny, Vinny. Hmmmm… He needed a rating.

  Three, Tara decided. He was be-a-utiful … but he had a tattoo that said “Who’s your daddy”…

  So?

  So, Tara didn’t like tattoos.

  But, maybe Kelsey did. Hahah!

  Good, then she couldn’t have him, now, could she? Vinny gets a three and that’s final.

  When August’s name was finally announced a thrill of excitement shot up her spine. Tara sat up, keeping her back erect and her legs tightly crossed, refusing to make eye contact with him. Instead, she busied herself, staring at his crotch. Her cheeks flushed.

  Tara scribbled the number two on her piece of cardboard.

  Two, two, two!

  A two? A two? Her conscience screamed its rebellion in disbelief. Now, you’re not being honest are you? August is much more worthy of at the very least, a four, and you know it. She’d written two. Two, two, two… Tara darkened the number with her pen for emphasis. Hah! Now what was she accomplishing by lying about August’s rating but possibly keeping Kelsey from him?

  Keeping Kesley from him…

  Oh, God what had she been thinking? This was wrong, just ugly and mean and …

  well … on the other hand, kinda empowering.

  Squirming in her chair, Tara made a heart around August’s rating. It remained a two. So there, she mentally stuck her tongue out at him.

  August looked rather uncomfortable under the hot sun. His bronzed skin glistened in the shimmering heat, oiled and slick from too much suntan lotion.

  Holy guacamole, he was a big boy … and his shaggy blond hair, in complete disarray, was thick and shiny. She didn’t normally favor blond men, so that does that. August just didn’t do it for her. Not a lot anyway…

  “You gave him a two?” a voice squawked in her ear with disbelief. “A two? Wanna borrow my glasses, missy?” Ms. Mary nudged her hard.

  Tara shrugged her shoulders. “He’s not that cute.”

  Ms. Mary cackled, “Oh, riiiigghht. All that blo nd hair, just imagine what it would be like to run your fingers through those rumpled strands. Especially after a good bout in the old sack…”

  “Ms. Mary, we’re supposed to be judging them by what we feel best suits Kelsey. Not just by how hot we think they are. Looks aren’t everything.”

  Ms. Mary crossed her eyes at Tara. “Well, aren’t you the uptight one? Chill out, would ya? Have some fun, enjoy the eye candy. If I could give him a ten, I would.”

  Tara bristled. “I’m here to pick a husband for Kelsey, ” she whispered fiercely under her breath. “Not choose Mr. America.”

  “Look, she’s going to marry a guy she’s known for less than a month, the least he can be is cute. I say we’re helping the poor gal out.” Mary muttered from under the brim of her hat.

  Poor gal? Please. “Let’s just focus on rating them overall, shall we?” Now, lay off August, you old coot, Tara thought.

  She was behaving like a cranky, spoiled child. Tara Douglas was … jealous. Tara winced at that thought, then straightened. She was not.

  Yes, yes she was.

  Crap.

  Several of the on-camera staff began to gather by Kelsey’s gauze covered chair. Preston Weichert introduced her to the world at large in muted tones, creating the much anticipated drama the viewing audience would expect when they watched from their arm chairs at home.

  All cameras pointed to Kelsey.

  Tara’s stomach lurched violently. It was now or never.

  Chapter Ten

  Chemistry-schmemisitry

  As the gauze fell away, revealing a chubbier Kelsey than Tara remembered, the crowd of contestants went wild. Clapping and wolf whistles drowned out everything else as Kelsey made her big entrance.

  Tara’s gaze narrowed in on August. He remained stoic compared to the other men. He calmly viewed Kelsey as she jumped up from her chair and pranced in front of them in her thong bikini.

  Man, her ass had some newly formed cottage cheese Tara didn’t remember when Kelsey stood arrogantly atop the pyramid as captain of the cheerleading team.

  Kelsey smiled at the camera, turning toward the men, assessing each one from head to toe. Her eyes lingered just a bit too long on August Guthrie.

  Tramp. Slut. Man-eater.

  Tara clamped a hand over her mouth as though her thoughts were spoken out loud. She should care that Kelsey was all of the above, why? August was clearly off limits and he quite obviously enjoyed a tramp now and again.

  This is strictly payback, no emotional attachments to a man she’d merely smelled.

  Tara watched carefully as each juror wrote his or her initial reaction based on Kelsey’s. Deciding whom they felt Kelsey might have chemistry with, by her facial expressions and long lingering looks.

  Really long lingering looks.

  Bitch.

  Ms. Mary’s pen bobbed furiously as she scribbled on her cardboard as she cast an all-knowing sidelong look at Tara. “Well, if you don’t like August, Kelsey sure as heck does.”

  Tara narrowed her eyes and reiterated her previous thought. Kelsey was a slut, of course she liked August. All sluts would.

  Did that make her a slut too? No,
she didn’t really like-like August. Tara liked ice cream and French fries. That was like-like. August wasn’t quite as high on a list of good dairy products, so she wasn’t a slut after all.

  Whew.

  Preston gave his arm to Kelsey and escorted her to the jury members. Kelsey’s stride was confident as she landed precisely on her mark. Presenting her to the jury, Preston asked her to tell the nice folks at home about herself.

  Kelsey cocked her head to the side and smiled sweetly. Flaxen curls, lush and full flowed over her shoulders, blowing softly in the humid breeze.

  Tara took a closer look at Kelsey from behind her sunglasses. Betcha Clairol had something to do with all those flaxen curls.

  Kelsey pursed her full, red lips—lips that matched her thong perfectly and gave her long overdue Miss. America speech.

  “My name is Kelsey Little, and I’m from Colorado Springs, Colorado. I love the great outdoors, gardening, cooking and reading. I work at…”

  —pulling the wings off moths, frightening innocent children and sleeping with anything that walks. Oh, and naturally, world peace. Tara struggled to keep her mouth firmly clamped shut. Kelsey sounded like a walking endorsement for wannabe wife of the year.

  Did she say read? Puuleease. Kelsey Little read? She was lucky if she could sound out Dr. Seuss without stumbling and if Tara remembered correctly, Kelsey failed Home Ec because she burned the salad… Or something like that.

  “—as an administrative assistant at a well-known advertising agency, ” Kelsey continued. Pretty as a picture, she spoke with poise and grace, turning once more to wink at the camera.

  Tara was going to gag. Would gagging be inappropriate on national television? Oddly, the presence of the cameras was Tara’s least concern now that her nemesis was but mere feet away.

  Preston asked her a series of questions ending with, “How about you tell the nice folks what qualities you’d like in a potential husband, Kelsey? ”

  Oh, yes, please do. It was like placing your husband order at a fast food joint.

  Kelsey paused a moment in thought. “Someone who’s honest and forthright, a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to say so. Kind, considerate, a sense of humor is especially important, and if he’s good looking, I won’t be unhappy. ” She flashed another smile, white and perfect.

  Can I have fries with my new husband, please? How many brain cells did Kelsey lose, rehearsing that load of shit? Takes time to perfect such bullshit.

  Probably as much time as Tara had spent convincing herself, and anyone else who would listen to her, what her motives for being here were.

  Guilty as charged, your Honor.

  “Now, Kelsey, meet the jurors who will help you choose the man of your dreams. First up, Mary DeWitt…”

  Tara held her breath as Preston got around to her introduction. She bit her lip and fought not to scream as Kelsey stood before her, smiling and posing for the jury. A fake, a liar… Tara could barely focus on Kelsey for fear that she’d reveal Tara for who she once was.

  A fat, unpopular, dateless ex-dork.

  Accused unfairly of sleeping with everybody’s favorite, Evanston High sweetheart’s boyfriend, taunted endlessly for her nude scene debut in the locker room hallway for months on end.

  Tara lifted her chin, even as her cheeks burned over remembering Kelsey’s harassment. Tara refused to show any signs that Kelsey had torn her world to shreds in one horrifying act of cruelty. As she sat in her jury chair, facing the now woman who’d made her life a living Hell, her pride refused to allow Kelsey the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. Tara felt fat and awkward all over again, even if she really wasn’t, but she would never let Kelsey know it. Her nemesis was now her prey … and if Tara could only keep that clear in her mind, that she had leveled the playing field and she and Kelsey were equals in the bod department, she’d be okay.

  “Kelsey Little, meet your jur y foreman, Tara Douglas. Tara hails from your very own home state of, Colorado. You may remember her from high school. She was the president of the trigonometry club and all round four point O student. Currently, Tara’s a chemist in a perfume factory and aspires to create her own line of perfume one day. ”

  Tara watched Kelsey’s eyes flash something unidentifiable, waiting to see if she’d tell the world at large they didn’t really know-know each other. Tara smiled and waved with attitude, while still holding her breath until she felt like she might have to begin to breathe out of her ass.

  Kelsey waved back, “Hi, Tara, how have you been? ” Very cool, very calm, very blissfully unaware. Either that or she’d honed those acting skills to a razor sharp point.

  Tara let loose a long, slow exhale of relief. Then, Kelsey dismissed her promptly, setting her sights on Andy, batting her eyelashes and smiling. God she was so obvious. What a tart.

  Kelsey didn’t appear, outwardly anyway, to have a clue who Tara was. Tara wasn’t sure if she should be pissed or tickled pink that her mission was semi-accomplished. How could she possibly forget what she’d done to Tara? It was despicable, unthinkable— totally going to work in her favor.

  Well, Tara thought, if Kelsey didn’t know who she was now, she sure would…

  * * *

  “No.”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “I just don’t think he’s right for Kelsey. ”

  “Are you kidding me? He has the kind of body that’s lickable from head to toe!” Ms. Mary squawked.

  Tara sighed and tried to behave reasonably. So much for manipulating the jury. “I’m only trying to suggest that August didn’t seem to share much chemistry with Kelsey. Isn’t chemistry a part of the ‘marriage’ package? Lickable doesn’t seem to be a quality that’s a requirement.” She was a chemist, she knew these things.

  Mary swatted at Tara with her now, men’s size twelve, knitted baby bootie. “They had so much chemistry you could set a house on fire with the fumes alone. What’s your beef with August?”

  Tara calmly sipped her pineapple juice and measured her words carefully. “I have no beef with August, Ms. Mary. I don’t even know him, for goodness sake. I just didn’t see it the way you did.” Tara watched the faces of her fellow jurors carefully, especially Ms. Mary’s. Everyone seemed convinced but her.

  “Then you need glasses, girlie,” Mary chided.

  Tara clenched her teeth. As they sat around the table in the jury room, lollygagging over the “right” choice for Kelsey, Tara twiddled her thumbs. How hard could this be? It wasn’t exactly brain surgery…

  “How about we set aside August for a minute and focus on the other nine contestants that we need to choose?” Andy interjected.

  What a load of shit this was. Ms. Mary was determined to give August to Kelsey on a silver platter.

  This troubled her, why?

  Tara shook her head. It didn’t trouble her.

  Um, yeah, it did.

  Tara sighed again. Okay, so maybe it did, but only a little and only because Kelsey-Fabulous-Little got whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it even when Tara was so damned determined to see to it she didn’t!

  Fine, just freakin’ fine. She’d let Kelsey have August… This round, anyway. A noble gesture on her part indeed.

  Tara stood up and waved the final voting sheet. “How does everyone feel about August going to the next round? All in favor say ‘aye’.”

  Every damned one of them confirmed the “aye”.

  Well, hell.

  “Okay, so August, Vinny, the Italian Stallion…” Tara cringed thinking about Vinny’s tattoo, he was just … well, just … icky was the word that came to mind. But, he might make a nice little partner in life for Kelsey.

  Who’s your daddy?

  * * *

  The evening was officially a free-for-all. Each contestant, member of the jury and Kelsey were invited to a barbeque, monitored of course, by the crew so no funny stuff went on. Henry had made that clear. The jury could watch Kelsey in a relaxed atmosphere and see how she interacted w
ith all of the contestants together and for the contestants to strut their stuff for the jury. It was probably more like an opportunity for the camera crew to get some embarrassing footage of contestants doing stupid stuff as they chugalugged a Tiki Tornado.

  Tara sat on her chair at the bar, watching from a short distance as Kelsey pawed August Guthrie. Flirting and cooing her ass off.

  Well, not totally off, that would be like turning water into wine. Tara snickered. It wasn’t a nice thought, but it was the truth. Tara never thought the day would come when she could say her ass was in better shape than Kelsey’s. She couldn’t get over how much Kelsey had changed and how completely unaware she seemed to be of that fact. Even more surprising, Kelsey didn’t even remember who Tara was. Tara had suspected she wouldn’t, but it took a great deal of the fulfillment factor out of the game for her. She was just another victim in a long line of Kelsey’s antics, but the ugliness of the act should have at least rendered a glimpse of recognition, left some kind of impression on Kelsey. Of course, that would require mental retention on Kelsey’s part and that was probably stretching the bounds of her teensy-weensy perimeters.

  “Hey, Tara!” Diana smiled as she floated past her with a plate full of barbecued chicken. “Today was really something, huh? ”

  Tara smiled and nodded wearily. “It was and I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.” And feeling more than a little relieved that I haven’t been caught yet.

  Diana laughed and shook her head. “Nah, I’m a night owl and all off schedule from jet lag. You gonna join us?” Diana pointed to the table two rows away.

  “Maybe in a bit. I think I need to catch my breath. ”

  “Okay, well if you change your mind, you know where we are.”

  Tara smiled and waved Diana off just as she caught a glimpse of Kelsey’s pink nails when they flashed under the tiki torches, making yet another pass over August’s forearm.

  Tara gritted her teeth and fo lded her hands together. Wasn’t that special? Kelsey might look different, but her tactics were ever predictable when it came to a manhunt.

  August leaned back a bit against the bar and smiled with what looked like a polite response to the tramp’s roaming hands.