Meredith interrupts me, calling out in her loud voice. “Hayden, wait. We need to film the teaser scene before you go inside.” Teaser scene? What the hell does that mean?
He turns back, looking me dead in the eye but talking to Meredith. I see the anger flaring in his eyes, and a vindictive flash that I know all too well. Hayden’s hurt. Why? How? I want to ask him, but he just answers Meredith instead. “Now? I’ve got the lines memorized, but I didn’t think it’d be now. You know what? Fine, let’s get it over with.” Hayden walks up to a mark just in front of Lee and me, looking in the camera.
“Thank you for watching Season 1 of Matchmaker. It was such a fun roll of the dice, and next season, it’ll be my turn. I’ll be the Match for thirty new suitors. So ladies, send in your video applications. Are you my match? Guess we’ll have to play and see.”
I realize what he’s said and my stomach plummets as I feel Lee tense beside me. Under his breath, I hear Lee mutter, “What the fuck? That’s supposed to be me.”
I look up at him, but before I can say anything, Meredith starts clapping loudly. “And that’s a wrap, people! Great job, everyone! If you’ll head inside to your rooms, we’ll be through shortly for final instructions. Lee and Emily . . . get ready for the chopper scene. It’ll take you back to Los Angeles. You’ve got interviews tomorrow.”
Chapter 22
Emily
I plop into the chair, McKayla and Brad staring at me open-mouthed. Brad looks like he’s about to cry while McKayla just looks pissed off. “What the actual fuck just happened? I thought you said you were going to do the right thing.”
Brad puts a hand on McKayla’s arm, obviously trying to slow her roll. “I think what McKayla means is . . .” he says, his voice squeaky until he clears his throat, and when he speaks again, there’s no hint of the lisp or the silly effeminate makeup artist, but a pissed off guy who’s genuinely hurt. “Nope, can’t do it. Emily, what the fuck, bitch?”
I look back and forth at them and lose it, tears gushing down my face as I break down. Blubbering, I try to explain that I found out Hayden was playing me, didn’t love me, and was gonna make me look like a fool so production had me pick Lee to make the show a better ending. McKayla listens for a minute, then sighs. I don’t know if she’s disgusted, angry, or pitying me. I just know it makes me cry all the harder until she puts her hands on my shoulders, pulling me in and letting me calm down slightly. “Chickadee, I don’t know what you saw or what you heard, but I’ve seen players and I’ve seen men in love. Hayden would look at you when your back was turned, and his eyes weren’t looking like a player. He would talk with the other guys off camera, and every word he said was respectful and full of meaning for you. To top it off, he was begging us for help to have alone time with you off camera. I think you may have been played, just not by Hayden.”
I gulp, swallowing back my tears as Brad brings me a cup of coffee, the hot drink helping me calm some. “But what if it was just part of his devious plan to win the show? Get some recognition? It fucking worked, did you hear? The asshole is the lead for next season, so joke’s on me.” I disintegrate into tears again, Brad being quick to scoop my cup up before I burn myself.
Nate pops his head in the door. “Uh, excuse me, ladies, can I come in?” He steps in, closing the door behind him without waiting for a reply. “Meredith sent me to suggest you pack pink tones for the show in the morning. Quote, ‘to make her look flushed and happy’ for the interviews. Oh, and sparkly for the chopper shot, wardrobe has a jewel-encrusted pantsuit for her to wear.”
Brad turns, a hint of his lisp coming back as he talks to the production assistant. “Thanks. We’ll keep that in mind, but kinda busy with a crisis here, Nate. And tell wardrobe to stop dressing Emily like a stripper.”
Nate looks at me, obviously uncomfortable. “You okay?”
There’s something about his question that pisses me off, which at least clears my tears for a moment. I turn to him, huffing. “No, I’m not okay. And you damn well know it, too. You were there in that meeting and know Hayden played me the whole damn time. I fell for him for real and now my heart is broken.”
Nate looks shocked at my outburst and tries to speak, but I’m on a roll now and I need to let the pain out of my soul. “Now I get to go on TV and fake being in love with another man so I don’t hurt a bunch of other people. Oh, yeah . . . y’all just keep pulling the puppet strings. I’ll go with Lee and do the interviews. I’ll do my best to work a smile. But really? I wish I’d never done this show.”
McKayla and Brad hug me into them, whispering ‘it’s okay’ and patting my back, shooing Nate out. We get through the prep for the chopper shot, and by keeping the camera behind me most of the time, Meredith’s able to get a shot of me and Lee climbing into the chopper together. Inside, Lee’s muttered words come back to me, but I’ve had enough pain for one day. When we get back to LA, we head straight to the hotel. Before my room door even closes, I crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.
I spent the whole night alternating between pacing and ranting and curling up and crying. By morning, I look like hell, and I feel even worse. McKayla and Brad do their best to perk me up, both with makeup that feels inches thick to cover my red eyes and light jokes to lighten the somberness surrounding me. Whatever drama there might have been last night, and regardless of how exhausted the two of them have to be after driving back to LA, they do their best to cheer me up.
In the green room, Meredith addresses Lee and me. “Okay, guys, the hosts have a set list of approved questions. You just need to answer like lovebirds looking forward to the rest of your lives together without giving away too much. If anything seems too deep, promote the reunion show to find out. Remember, while this is going to be taped, that doesn’t mean we want it to be super edited or anything.”
“How long until the finale is shown?” Lee asks, and I nod. Maybe we’ve got different reasons for this, but I have to know how long I have to keep up the happy face charade before I can let it show that I’m broken up inside.
“The delay isn’t as bad as some of the shows, only a few weeks,” she says. “The reunion show will be filmed the night of the finale, and we’ll get you the details on that soon.”
A few minutes later, we walk out to hugs from the show hosts, who are acting like it’s the middle of the morning instead of one in the afternoon. I guess it’s just more of the magic of television. Settling into a couch, I do my best to keep my ‘game face’ on as the hosts check their question sheets. “Congrats, you two! Sounds like a Match was made for the Matchmaker! Tell me how you’re doing.”
Lee slips an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I try to look comfortable even as I’m cringing inside. Lee’s dressed perhaps more casually than I’ve seen him except for the physical challenges of the show, in a polo shirt and khakis that make him look . . . kind of suburban. “Well, we had so many great dates and I think I just swept her off her feet. She had to pick me as her Match.”
I smile politely, not able to say a word as the hosts give me a lead that I fail to pick up. Finally, the host plows on. “Emily, it seemed like you had several great dates and connections with several suitors. In fact, there’d been lots of chatter, even betting pools, about whom you’d pick. I’ll admit that my bet was for Hayden. What happened there?”
I feel Lee tense a little but figure he doesn’t want to talk about Hayden when it’s supposed to be our promo time. “Yeah, the guys were all really great, some more my type than others. The final two were definitely my frontrunners from the very beginning. It was a hard decision.” I take a steadying breath, refusing to cry on fucking TV about Hayden, and I can feel the anticipation in the air as the host waits for more.
The seconds drag out, and Lee takes the opportunity to pull me to him. “She just couldn’t deny our chemistry . . .” before he covers my mouth in a kiss, using a finger to tip my chin up to meet his lips. The host makes an oohing sound, and I’m a little relieved at the b
reak from the Hayden subject. After a few more easy questions, we’re done.
I am glad to get offstage. I’m so sick of this fakeness that I can’t put up with it for one minute longer. I already heard Meredith talking with the producer of the morning show program. They’re going to use a ‘canned audience’ sound for the kiss. This is a huge joke.
Whatever, I know there’s a few more interviews to take care of still before Lee and I have to work out the details of how we’re going to maintain a relationship with our real lives still going on. It’ll be hard. We live on opposite coasts, but I’ll be willing to give Lee a fair chance. I mean, I was so head over heels for Hayden that I didn’t really give Lee the attention he deserved, and maybe I should.
Back in the green room, though, Lee is visibly frustrated, not quite yelling but definitely a bit loud. “Em, you’ve got to answer the questions about the suitors better. I can’t save you every time. Both of us have a lot riding on these appearances. Get it together and don’t fuck this up.” I’m shocked and put off, but before I can react, he walks off, shaking his head.
Chapter 23
Hayden
“Hey, Hayden, good to see you again,” Meredith says. It’s been a week, and I’ll admit I’ve pretty much zombied my way through the past seven days. I go to the gym because I’m supposed to. I talk to Jay because he calls me, but other than that, I just sleep or veg. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine,” I reply, tugging at my jeans. Fuck getting dressed up for this.
“Hmm, really? Because I gotta tell you, gorgeous, you look like shit,” Meredith says. “I mean, really hot shit, but still shit.”
“I think I picked up a bug in Vegas,” I lie through my teeth. “You know those buffets aren’t the cleanest places, and after filming wrapped, I sorta went on a bender for a day or two while you guys were footing the bill.”
“That’s just fine. You’ve got time to get yourself back into shape,” Meredith says. “Okay, down to business. Check this out, this will be airing the day after the finale. Edited down, of course. They took a half hour for what’s probably going to end up being five minutes on the morning shows.”
Meredith picks up a remote on her desk, and the TV mounted on the wall fires up. I get to watch their fucking interview on TV, not wanting to but at the same time forcing myself. I want to see what Emily says about me and the other guys. Hell, I want to see what Lee says.
As the interview continues, I feel my hands clenching in my lap as I listen to Lee. That asshole, figures he’d talk trash. Not just about me, but everyone. He does it in a passive-aggressive way that makes it seem natural, but that’s Lee. I took a moment to chat with Dean two days ago, and he explained it best.
“Lee’s the straw on the camel’s back sort of asshole. None of his comments, by themselves, are worth punching him in the mouth over. But you add them all up, and eventually, you just hate the guy and want to kick his ass. The moment you do, though, he gets to look all innocent and shit because you look like a petty asshole listing a hundred and fifty pieces of pitty-pat shit. And nobody who isn’t the target of his words is going to get it. They just laugh it off like it’s nothing. But when you’re on the receiving end . . . you wanna go Tyson on his ass.”
That’s Lee to a T. And while he does make a couple of comments about being the best match, he seems to be fully in his “camera personality”, not his real self. I saw it too much over the weeks of filming. The guy would save all his backstabbing and his comments for when he knew nobody would be able to call him on his shit.
I wonder if Emily has spotted the difference yet. Nope, I’m stopping that train of thought in its tracks because it doesn’t matter. She picked him, not me. And that’s all that matters. I wonder if she knew she was gonna pick him even when she was with me. Hell, maybe she fucked him too. I don’t think so, but I thought I knew her. Maybe I didn’t.
“Hayden?” Meredith asks, and I look over, realizing that the interview’s over. “What do you think?”
“I . . .” I start, but before I can half bumble-fuck some answer, my phone rings, and even though I don’t want to talk to anyone, I’m grateful. I look down. It’s Jay, and I look up at Meredith. “Gimme five minutes to talk with my agent?”
“Jay?” Meredith asks. “Sure. Tell him I said hi, and I’m sending over some contract paperwork to him soon.”
I answer in the hallway, leaning back against the wall. “Yo, Jay.”
“Hayden, my man! Way to roll a runner-up slot into an even better gig! Listen, I know I’m not supposed to know, but Meredith was nice enough to reach out to me. She showed me some of the early edits on the first few episodes, at least the parts where you’re on screen. I didn’t think you had it in you, but you were napalm fucking fire on that screen. Women all over the US are gonna be wet for you this fall!”
That’s just what I want to hear, Jay, totally makes up for what I’ve been through. “Yeah, uh . . . thanks, I guess? It played out how it did. I’m not sure I want to do that again though.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line, and I know Jay’s sitting in his office, probably trying not to drop his feet from his desk to the carpet and tip over his coffee. “What are you talking about, Hayden? Of course you’re doing it again! It’s the best gig you’ve ever been offered. You’re going to be a fucking one-name celebrity right now, and we’re capitalizing on that. Hell, you need it. While you’ve been gone filming, Frances has been flaming your unprofessional ass all over the industry.”
“I know. It’s just . . .”
Jay sighs, and this time I can hear his feet come down off his desk. “She fucking got to you, didn’t she? Man, I saw the videos. The bitch played you. Don’t you dare let that fuck up your career. No way in hell, I’m not letting you do that to yourself.”
I can’t help but feel a twinge of anger at the words, ‘the bitch’, but I know he’s just trying to show he’s got my back, so I shrug it off. I lean back, bumping my head on the wall and rubbing at my eyes. “Just give me some time, okay? We’ve still got the reunion show to film, and I did actually drag my happy ass down here to talk to Meredith. By the way, she said she’s sending you some paperwork or some shit. Maybe after the reunion show, I can move on.”
“Uh-uh. No maybe bullshit. After the reunion show, filming starts in three months and you’ll have some promo gigs before that. Get your shit straight and get ready. If I need to, I’m gonna pull out the sofa bed in my house and put you into Matchmaker boot camp. You’re gonna walk onto that second season set ready to own it.”
I sigh. Why is Jay so worked up about this? The modeling contracts? What? “Okay, whatever, man. I’ll keep it all in mind.”
After Jay gets off the line, I talk to Meredith for a few more minutes. Nothing big, I don’t think. I hardly hear anything she says. I’m just going through the motions right now.
“Listen, here’s some of the girls we rejected for the first season. We already reached out to them, asked if they would be interested in being in Season Two. Take a look through the videos. Get back to us if there’s any, in particular, you might want to see on the show.”
Leaving the studio, I look at the flash drive, tempted to throw it into the street. I don’t know if I can do this . . . any of this. I need to talk to someone about all of this, but I signed a fucking NDA. Fuck it, I know someone who’ll keep quiet and listen to me. I ride back to my apartment and load up the saddlebags of my Harley before hitting the road.
I drive all night, pulling into my childhood home just as the morning sun is rising over the horizon. The lights are already on, and as I shut off the loud bike, the door opens, my mom smiling warmly at me. She’s dressed for work, looking a little surprised as she sticks her head out of the ranch-style house I grew up in. The paint’s a little faded, but Mom looks just like she did when I last saw her six months ago.
“Hayden? Baby, you surprised the shit out of me! Get in this house before the neighbors start yelling about
the racket at this time of morning.”
Bending down to give her a big hug, I finally feel myself relax. Five minutes later, I’m sitting down at the table, coffee in front of me, my mom and dad both giving me inquisitive looks as I poke at the plate of bacon and eggs with toast that Mom put together for me. Dad sets his cup down before giving me a tentative smile. “Good to see you, Son. I gotta ask you, though, what brings you here with no call at six in the morning?”
I thought, as I was riding, that talking about the show would be easy. But sitting here, at the same wood table where I ate countless meals, the same wood table where I learned I’d have to have surgery, and the same wood table where I gave up on baseball forever, I find it hard to talk about. The words come slowly, haltingly at first. Mom and Dad are patient though, listening as I tell them about Frances, about the cattle call for Matchmaker, and about the show itself.
“And you really have feelings for this young lady?” Dad asks.
“Something just clicked with us, and it was like no matter what, I wanted to see her, talk to her. I mean, I risked getting kicked off the show over it with all the sneaking around we did. I thought it was mutual, I really did. But I found out I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Mom asks worriedly, and I realize she and Dad are going to be late for work. She glances at the clock and gets up, grabbing the phone and going into the living room. She comes back five minutes later, hanging the phone up. “I called in. We’re taking a half day off. Family emergency.”
Her simple, unadorned sign of love touches me and I have to clear my throat before I continue. “The producer showed me the videos,” I explain. “Emily and Lee, their confessionals, their . . . dates. It was like a knife in the gut. And so I took the deal Meredith offered. They want me to be the Match for next season.”
Matchmaker Page 16
