by Lucy Kevin
“Looking like what?”
Jane sighed. “Looking like you do right at this very minute. The way you look every day, in fact.”
Alexa tried not to let on just how much Jane’s brutal honesty hurt. But seconds later, when Jane uncharacteristically tried to soften the blow, Alexa knew she needed to work on her poker face if she was ever going to make it as a serious undercover journalist.
“Don’t worry,” Jane said. “We’re going to get you a little help in the wardrobe department, and-”
Alexa cut her off. If there was one word that she never thought she’d hear at ROAR, it was wardrobe. She had always thought such terminology was reserved for the offices of Vogue or Elle.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?”
Jane pursed her lips, seeming to tally up all the problems in her head before listing them. “I’ve never seen you wear anything but jeans and a T-shirt, except for that awful suit you wore for your interview last year.” Clearly exasperated, she added, “Your shoes don’t even match!”
Alexa swung her legs out from underneath the desk. When she inspected her feet, she was surprised to see a green tennis shoe on her left foot and a red shoe on her right.
“I was a little distracted this morning.”
“Try every morning. In any case, we’ve got you scheduled for the spa this afternoon.”
Spa was another word that she never, ever thought she’d hear at ROAR. Alexa narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious. “This isn’t some kind of office practical joke is it? Last time I looked, I was working for the leading feminist magazine in the country.”
Jane looked at her watch, making it clear that the conversation was over. “Your first appointment is in thirty minutes. Do you want the assignment or not?”
Alexa knew she had no choice: Her self-respect was going to have to take a back seat to her first ever byline. There was no way she was going to miss the chance to leap out of journalistic obscurity and onto the cover of a national magazine.
“Where do I sign?”
Jane smiled and handed her a pen.
* * *
“Hold on a second. You want me to be Mr. Right?”
Joe Randell, the executive producer of the much-hyped Falling For Mr. Right reality TV show, leaned across the conference table as if he was letting Brandon in on a big secret. “You did apply.”
Brandon Philips worked to wipe the stunned look off of his face. “Yes, I did,” he said, leaving off the pertinent fact that he had only done it to get back at his ex-girlfriend for dumping him because of his so-called “commitment issues.”
Stalling for time to figure out just what the hell he had got himself into, he asked, “How many applicants were there?”
“Thousands. But I knew you were our best prospect the minute you walked through the door. Your screen test confirmed that the camera loves you and your resume is excellent.”
Brandon took a moment to digest the unexpected news. “If I signed on, what would you expect me to do?”
Joe slid a copy of the Falling For Mr. Right contract across the table. “The show will air over a period of two weeks. This gives you fourteen days to decide who you want to marry among the thirty women we introduce you to.
Brandon’s mouth went completely dry. How could he possibly fall for anyone that fast? He took a sip of coffee and kept his expression bland, waiting for his brain to click back into the ‘on’ position. “How often would I be filmed?”
Joe looked Brandon straight in the eye. “Brandon, I want to be completely upfront with you today, before you agree to sign anything.”
Brandon nodded for Joe to continue.
“There will be cameras filming you during every interaction with the girls.”
“Is that all?”
“Not quite.” Joe straightened his tie before continuing. “There is one special clause in the contract that I need to draw your attention to.”
He pointed out a paragraph in the middle of page one. Mr. Right will allow Producer to pick one wild card for each of the selection ceremonies, until only three women remain. At that point, Mr. Right will have complete control over his contestant selection.
“Can you live with that?” Joe asked him.
Brandon leaned back in his chair. He couldn’t have cared less about one wild-card out of thirty women. How bad could one woman be? The big question was how they were going to make sure he wanted to choose any of the women?
“That depends. How are you planning on finding thirty women that I would be interested in dating in the first place?”
Joe slid another piece of paper over. “Here’s a questionnaire we would like you to fill out. We will find women that fulfill as many of your requirements as possible.”
Brandon’s raised eyebrow gave away his skepticism. “What if none of the thirty work out?”
“The paragraph at the top of page eight has the answer you are looking for.”
Brandon flipped through the contract and scanned the legal speak. “You expect me to marry a stranger on the air July 1st?”
“We do.”
“And if July 1st comes and there is no wedding?”
Joe cleared his throat before speaking with a determined edge to his voice. “Brandon, I think you will find this contract more than reasonable. During the two weeks of taping we will treat you to five star accommodations, exotic destinations, and thirty gorgeous, accomplished women. This is an opportunity of a lifetime and we hope you will agree to join us in producing a truly excellent program.”
Brandon was about to say “No way,” when he was suddenly assailed with a heckling chorus of several ex-girlfriend’s last words to him.
“You’ll never settle down!”
“Why won’t you open up?”
“No woman will ever be good enough for you!”
And then the worst one, which he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since his last break-up, “You’re going to die alone and you deserve it!”
He knew he had applied for the TV show for all of the wrong reasons. Spite. Annoyance. To prove his exes wrong. But just because he didn’t want to marry any of them didn’t make him an emotionally crippled commitment-phobe.
He certainly didn’t want to date and get married in front of millions of people. But now, sitting in the studio, he wondered if his exes were right. Could he ever let any woman get close enough to him to get married and have a family like the rest of his friends and co-workers?
If he were to sign a contract that made it so he had to get married, there would be no way out. And since he didn’t believe in true love — the lie that there was actually one person out there for him that would complete him and give his life meaning — being “Mr. Right” would be the optimal way to check marriage off his list of life goals. He would put his criteria down for his perfect woman, and Joe’s staff would hunt her down.
It was the perfect, easy solution to his marriage problem. No long courtship. No games. Just a selection of thirty beautiful, available marriage-minded women to choose from.
He flipped to the last page of the contract and said, “You got a pen handy? Let’s get this ball rolling.”
...Excerpt from FALLING FAST by Lucy Kevin ©2011.
Buy FALLING FAST for your Nook
BOOKLIST
Four Weddings and a Fiasco Series
The Wedding Gift
The Wedding Dance
The Wedding Song (coming June 25, 2012)
Stand-alone Books
Falling Fast
Seattle Girl
Sparks Fly
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When Lucy Kevin released her first novel – SEATTLE GIRL – in 2011, it became an instant digital bestseller. Her next two fun contemporary romance releases – SPARKS FLY and FALLING FAST – have also appeared on many Top 50 bestseller lists, climbing as high as #4 on the Top 100. Her books have been read by half a million people on their e-readers and the Washington Post has called her “One of the top digital writers
in America.” THE WEDDING GIFT, the first book in her “Four Weddings and a Fiasco” series, debuted at #4 on the Barnes & Noble top 100 bestseller list.
If not behind her computer, you can find her reading her favorite authors, hiking, knitting, or laughing with her husband and two children. For a complete listing of books, as well as excerpts, contests, and to connect with Lucy:
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
The Wedding Dance
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
BOOKLIST
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
The Wedding Dance
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
BOOKLIST
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
The Wedding Dance
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
BOOKLIST
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
