by Syndi Powell
“We’ll film it tomorrow and air it on our episode next week.” She glanced over at the discarded clipboard. “Of course, it makes chaos out of my schedule, but...”
“You going to be okay now?”
She nodded slowly. “Mr. Jackson will be okay. You’ve found a possible wife already. And my job just got more interesting. What more could I want?”
* * *
AFTER THE PREVIOUS night’s excitement, the dinner preceding the elimination ceremony seemed tame. Rick mingled among the women, looking into each one’s eyes and asking himself if they should stay or go.
The cameras were everywhere, but he tried to ignore them. Better that he concentrate on other things. Like what the petite brunette was saying. “You were really great the last time you were on the show, right? And so I told my mom, ‘I gotta meet this hunk.’ And here I am.”
Rick raised his eyebrows at that. “Hunk?”
The woman blushed and looked down at her hands. “Well, how else would you describe yourself?”
“You’re very kind. Thanks.” Give her a point for flattery. “So what is it you do in the real world, Becky?”
“I was a teacher before the layoffs.”
Rick listened to her talk about how hard it had been. He’d seen enough of that in his town. He’d been fortunate to be born into a family that had become the largest employer in the county. Blessed enough to have inherited his job even after losing his baseball dreams. “It’s hard out there.”
“Things happen for a reason, though.” She shrugged. “Maybe I had to lose my job so I could be free to come here.”
Rick felt a shiver of unease. Blame the economy. Or loss of education funding. But don’t use him as an excuse. Too much pressure.
A second woman joined them, followed by a third. Soon he found himself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, only half of whose names he could remember. He glanced across the room and saw Missy watching them. He winked at her and smiled as she blushed. Maybe being the bachelor in charge of this game wasn’t so bad.
* * *
“BEING THE BACHELOR is hard.” Rick frowned at Elizabeth, who scratched another name off her clipboard. “I don’t want to hurt any of these women. They’re beautiful. Smart. Funny. But they’re going to think something is wrong with them if I send them home.”
“You’re doing fine.” She consulted the list. “You’ve got two more to reject.”
Rick groaned and winced. “Exactly. They’ll think I’m rejecting them. Think of what I’m doing to their psyches.”
“You need to dial back on some of this melodrama, Mr. Allyn. They just met you.” She glanced at the crew gathered in the garage of the home where they filmed. She’d spent days converting it into a production room but had failed to consider it wasn’t insulated. She shivered and drew her parka tighter around her. “You click with some people and not others. That’s how it goes.”
“I hate to disappoint them.” He peered at the board with the women’s pictures and names while she wondered what he was thinking.
“They’ll get over it.” She tapped her clipboard. “Two more.”
He turned back to Elizabeth, his eyes bright. Uh-oh. She knew that look. “Couldn’t we do a game and send the losers home?”
She shook her head. “And here I thought you wanted more control.”
“I know.” He read the names over and pointed to two of them. “I don’t think I said two words to either of them.” He sighed as if a burden had been lifted. “Now can I go back to my dessert?”
Elizabeth laughed, glad that the hard part was over. “Yes, it’s your reward for being a good bachelor.”
Rick glanced around the garage. “I’ll stay out here for another minute, though.”
Was he crazy? Stay out here in the cold? Seriously. What is going on in his head? “Don’t want to face your adoring crowd?”
“More like wanting a few moments off camera.” He shrugged. “Five years makes you forget what it’s like to always be onstage. That everything you say and do is being recorded.”
She sighed, relieved in a way that it wasn’t more serious. “Take your time, Rick. My crew is filming stuff for filler anyway.”
Rick took a seat in her director’s chair. “Any drama going on in the houses yet?”
They’d had plenty, and it hadn’t been a week yet. The two houses she’d rented were side by side, allowing the women to move back and forth. And some to move again after roommate conflicts began. She crossed her arms across her chest. “I told you that we’d have some with only two bathrooms per house to split between them.”
Rick laughed. “I’d love to see that.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait until it airs along with the audience.” She pulled him up to his feet and pushed him toward the door. “Enough stalling. Enjoy your dessert. Then let’s send some of them home.”
He saluted her. “Fine. You are the boss.”
And he’d better not forget it. She chuckled as he returned to the living room.
* * *
DESSERT ARRIVED, and they took that with coffee in the great room rather than being confined to their chairs in the dining room. Rick took the opportunity to mingle, smiling and laughing as he darted from one group to another.
He settled himself near the fireplace, mostly because it was the one corner that was warm. Melissa, in a blue shiny dress, walked toward him. “Could we go outside for a moment?” she asked.
He nodded, then reached out and touched her bare shoulder. “Do you have a coat?”
She glanced around the room. “Not sure where it is right now.”
Rick shrugged out of his coat and gave it to her. He opened the door to the patio, where fairy lights lit up the bare trees, and stepped outside. Even with his coat, the woman shivered, so Rick put his arm around her.
She looked up at him. “You really are a gentleman.”
It was the way he’d been raised. Always put the other person ahead of yourself.
They sat on a stone bench after Rick wiped off the snow with one hand. He crossed his arms mostly to keep his warmth from completely escaping. He turned to Melissa. “You wanted to talk to me alone?” She shook slightly, her teeth chattering. He put both arms around her. “Is that better?”
“I wanted to let you know I’m here for the right reasons.” She leaned in closer to him. “I’m not here for my career. Or to get publicity.” She looked up into his face, and he could see the sincerity. “I saw the other show, and I always felt you didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
Rick took the chance to give her more than a passing glance. Her blond hair was cut short and sassy. Her eyes were deep brown pools that shone with trust and sincerity. And she had a small, compact body that told him she took care of herself. He rubbed her arm. “I’m glad you came out here with me, Melissa. I’ve wanted to talk to you since last night.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “It was pretty crazy.”
“I already know you save lives, but what else do you do in your spare time?”
They shared a laugh. Rick thought he could use some of that in his life. Not that his life was joyless or lonely. He had friends. Family. The diner. But he wouldn’t mind adding more laughter. Wasn’t that part of the reason he was doing all this?
He squeezed her closer. “I hope you want to stay here for a while.”
Melissa looked up at him. “I’d like that.”
* * *
ELIZABETH SHOOK HER HEAD and made notes on her clipboard. She glanced behind her and saw Devon. “I think we found one of our finalists,” he said.
“We’ll see how it goes.” She looked back at the monitor and continued writing ideas to expand on later when she had some time.
Devon glared at her until she turned back to her notes. �
�Make sure she stays. They’ve got chemistry. And I want her in the final three, if not the finale. Got it?”
“We promised Rick that he would choose who moved on and who got sent home.” She looked up. “You approved the contract yourself, so you know I can’t make him do anything.”
Devon leaned in closer to her. She tried not to flinch. “Looks like he trusts you. I’m sure there are ways you could influence him.”
Elizabeth frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Am I the only one who thinks he shows chemistry with more than just Melissa?” Devon picked up his jacket from the back of the director’s chair. “He likes you, so use it.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to use my friendship to get you what you want.”
“You’re on thin ice, Elizabeth. I’m not the only one who’s noticed you’re losing your edge with this one.” He shrugged into the jacket and walked closer to her. “Prove to me you haven’t lost it.”
Elizabeth scowled and returned her gaze to the monitor, where she could see Rick returning to the house and chatting with a group of three women. Jumping through Devon’s hoops was growing old. But she’d do it. Because what would she have without this job?
* * *
RICK STOOD AT THE FRONT of the room while the women gathered in groups of two and three. He had made a mental list of who would stay, but at the moment he couldn’t recall a single name. The cameras ran, recording every word, every movement.
He hated this part of the show.
As a contestant, he’d waited to hear Brandy call his name. Waited to see if she felt the same connection he felt with her. Dreaded going home. Hoped he’d stay.
Now as the bachelor, he hated to dash anyone’s dreams. Hated to be the one who would crush them by not calling their name. Dreaded the moment when he’d see the light of hope in their eyes fade.
He held twenty necklaces in his hand. Twenty women who would stay and continue to try to win his heart. Twenty chances to find love in the next three months.
He wiped his forehead. Denise, the makeup artist, added extra powder to his skin with her large pouf. “Sorry. I guess I’m more nervous than I thought.”
She gave him a soft smile and continued putting powder on his face. “Just breathe. You’ll be fine.”
He turned to Lizzie, who stood at the back of the room. He motioned for her to come talk to him. When she reached his side, he shook his head. “I’m not sure about my list now.”
“Yes, you are. You just don’t want to send anyone home.” She brought up her clipboard and reviewed each name with him. “Can we do this now? You’re wasting film.”
He nodded and tried to swallow. Found it hard to breathe. He tugged at his tie, but Lizzie slapped his hands away. “Relax. You don’t have connections with these four. It’s not a judgment against them. It’s just the way it is.”
“They’ll hate me.”
“No, they won’t.” She smoothed his tie. “You bond with some people, not others. Fact of life.” She put her hands on his shoulders and shook him slightly. “Let’s do this. Like a bandage. Rip it off quick, okay?”
He nodded. She retreated to the back of the room as he cleared his throat. “Ladies, I appreciate your patience.” He glanced down at the necklaces with heart charms, each one representing a possible future. “Melissa.”
She stepped away from the group and approached him. He held up the necklace. “Will you accept my heart?”
“With pleasure.” She dipped her head as he put the necklace around her neck. She kissed his cheek, then returned to the group.
The first necklace had been given out. With each name called, each necklace given out, the task became easier until he only had one in his hand. He glanced around the room and noticed the five women who still had bare necks. They shifted their weight. Looked at the others who already had a necklace with a bit of envy. Or kept their eyes on the floor so he couldn’t see the hurt.
He held up the last necklace. “Mona.”
A tall, willowy blonde approached him with a smirk. Almost as if to say she had known all along he’d pick her. “Mona, will you accept my heart?”
“Absolutely.”
Rick placed the necklace around her neck. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but she turned and kissed him full on the mouth. Unexpected. But...kinda nice. He let his eyes drift closed for a moment.
Then stepped back. “Thanks.”
Mona winked at him and returned to the group. Rick looked between those who hadn’t received a necklace. “You are all beautiful and smart. And I’m sorry we didn’t have a connection.”
The four going home said their goodbyes and left in the waiting limousines; their luggage was already packed and loaded. Once they left, Rick handed out drinks to the twenty women who remained. He lifted his glass. “Here’s to developing friendships. And finding love.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE SPORTS COMPLEX buzzed with excitement. The regular patrons walked to the changing rooms but craned their necks to get a look at the celebrity surrounded by cameras and beautiful women dressed in softball uniforms. Elizabeth rolled her shoulders and tried to crack the tension out of her neck. She felt warm fingers trying to massage it instead.
“How did the premiere do?”
She closed her eyes and savored the feel of Rick’s hands on her neck. It felt really good. She could stay like this all morning if she let herself.
Instead, she shrugged off his hands. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the game?” She consulted the clipboard and checked off names as more women joined them from the changing rooms.
“Why? I’m not playing.” He dropped his hands and walked around to face her. “Are they all here? No one dropped out because of our low ratings?”
“Who told you we got low ratings?” Elizabeth shook her head and muttered to herself. “I don’t even have the numbers yet. How did the crew get them already?”
“It was a joke, Lizzie. Relax.” He glanced at the cameras that pointed to the floor since they were turned off for the moment. “I don’t have to be on-screen during the game, right?”
“We need reaction shots, so yeah, there will be a camera on you. But no microphone.” She tapped her earpiece. “Okay, they’re ready for us. Now, remember, if there’s anyone on the losing team that you want to keep, just tell me. We’ll make a deal or something.”
Rick frowned. “That’s not what we agreed to. Winning team gets immunity for the next elimination. Period.”
She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “And what if Melissa is on the losing team?”
Rick smiled. “I think she’s going to be around for a while. Don’t you?”
Her bachelor was finding his match. Elizabeth should be thrilled. So why was part of her feeling anxious at the thought? Something to think about later. She glanced at Rick. Much later.
Rick flexed his muscles and rolled his neck. “I don’t think I’m sleeping very well. Are you?”
What kind of a question was that? “I’m sleeping fine. Why aren’t you?”
“This finding a wife business is intense.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And I’m having the strangest dreams. In fact, you were in my dream last night.”
Elizabeth gulped and felt her cheeks burn. “Why are you dreaming about me?”
“It wasn’t about you. But you were in it.” Rick looked at the group of women. “I dreamed that I was on an auction block, and they were all bidding on me.”
“Did I bid on you, too?”
Rick laughed and shook his head. “Oh, no. You were the auctioneer.” He shrugged. “Guess it’s not too far from reality, huh?”
“You’ve got more input than being sold to the highest bidder.” She took a step closer and placed her hand on his shoulder. “This has to be about
you and your choices. No one is pressuring you on who to keep around.”
He dipped his head and glanced at her sideways. “You sure about that?”
She swallowed. Held her clipboard tight to her chest. “Positive.” She patted him on the shoulder. “And don’t let anyone talk you out of it. Not even me.”
“Thanks.” He left her and walked toward the field, where the game would be played.
Ignoring her confusing feelings, she strode into the midst of the chattering women. “Okay. Listen up. We’re playing slow-pitch softball. Pinks versus greens. Three innings. Winners get to have dinner at Rick’s diner plus immunity in the next elimination. Questions?” She glanced around quickly and, seeing no hands, blew her whistle. “I’ll meet you on the field.”
* * *
RICK SAT IN the bleachers while the teams took their places. He leaned back and tried to get comfortable. It was different sitting in the stands when he’d rather be out in the field. Made him restless. Not that he didn’t watch sports. Most of his evenings were spent watching televised games or highlights from them. But he would much rather be the one playing.
Lizzie walked up to the bleachers to where he sat, then continued up two rows past his seat. He’d noticed how some of the contestants treated her as if she was some kind of interloper. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Come on, girls.”
“That isn’t sexist at all.”
He turned and smiled at her. “I can’t exactly play favorites, so I’m cheering them all on.”
She kept her eyes on her clipboard, punching things into her cell phone at the same time. Didn’t she get confused working like that? “Do you love her?”
He didn’t have to ask who she meant. “I don’t know her enough yet. But I plan on spending a lot more time with her.”
She looked up at him. “You want her to have the first one-on-one?”
He winked at her. “Oh, definitely. And make it superromantic. Over-the-top. You know. Flowers. Music. Good food. The kind of stuff you guys are known for.” He looked back to the field as the first woman got up to bat. “And I want a group date, too. I need to get to know more of them better. I’m blanking on half their names.”
