Chloe Sparrow

by Lesley Crewe

  “Not yet. We want you to be our single guy. You are our first choice.”

  Austin adjusts himself in the chair, looking slightly overwhelmed. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect to win. I thought only big dumb jerks are chosen for shows like this.”

  “They are.”

  He gives me a look.

  “Sorry, that was my attempt at a joke.”

  “Good one.”

  “Austin, this assignment is quite a commitment. If you have any doubts about this, tell me now. I don’t want you to be halfway into a shoot and decide you don’t want the job.”

  “May I ask you why you picked me?”

  “Trust me, you were the best of the bunch. You have many attractive qualities, one of which is that you look like Ryan Gosling.”

  “Who?”

  “Thank you! I’m not the only one on the planet who didn’t know who he was. Anyway, it’s not important.” I gather up the paperwork. “You have to sign this confidentiality agreement. Please read it over carefully. As well we’ll need blood work and you’ll meet with a psychiatrist.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “We can’t have lunatics and sex fiends running around infecting women with STDs on national television.” I get to my feet. “Please look over these papers and I’ll be back to witness your signature.”

  My hand is on the doorknob when he says, “You look amazing in that outfit.”

  “Need I remind you that I’m not one of the contestants?”

  “Good thing. I’d kick you off first.”

  “Just sign the papers, Ryan.”

  I’m halfway down the hall when he shouts, “The name’s Austin!”

  Now into the lion’s den. Amanda has the frenzied female contestants cooped up in the boardroom down the hall. The minute I open the door and enter, Amanda collapses into the nearest chair with a sigh of relief.

  “Good morning. I’m Chloe Sparrow, the producer of The Single Guy. We met briefly at your interviews, but right now I’d like to say congratulations for being chosen the best single gals in Canada!”

  I wait for their hysteria to settle down before I resume speaking. “As wonderful as you think this experience is going to be, it’s real life. This is a three-month commitment and your hearts are on the line. Honestly, if you think you are emotionally fragile or know that you won’t be able to handle it, please, please say so now.”

  Complete silence. Gee, there’s a surprise.

  “Okay. I see that Amanda has handed out your contracts. I need you to read them and understand them, especially the section on the confidentiality agreement. In this day and age, when everyone and his dog knows what you’re doing on Facebook, you need to be vigilant about not posting anything until this show has finished the last episode. If you do not respect these terms you will immediately be sent home and could be fined, so I suggest you take this seriously.”

  In the space of a minute I’ve sucked the excitement out of this room. Now they look worried, and well they should be. “Amanda will witness your signatures and I’ll be back.”

  Amanda stands up and whispers in my ear as I go by. “If you lose your job you can always be a prison warden.”

  After giving Austin a good twenty minutes to look things over, I re-enter the room. His contract is on the desk in front of him.

  “Everything all right? Any questions?”

  “Am I contractually obligated to sleep with these women?”

  A flush of heat rises from my neck to my ears. I hate it when I have flaming ears. “Of course not.”

  “Just checking.”

  I hand him my pen and indicate where he should sign before I initial it. “Okay, follow me for blood work. I’m going to take you down the back way so your concubines don’t see you.”

  In the emptiness of the stairwell, my heels sound ten times louder, so I start to ramble to cover up the noise. “Since you’re here, is there anything I should do for Norton before the birth of the kittens?”

  “You could always make a nest of sorts, a box with some towels, or some other comfortable space away from prying eyes.”

  “Excellent. Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  Just before he leaves me, I blurt, “They won’t die, will they?”

  “The kittens? I shouldn’t think so. The mother is a healthy specimen.”

  “Good to know, thank you. We’ll be in touch.” I click my way back up the stairs. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I think I feel his eyes on me as I go. I can’t look around to check because that would be mortifying. This hangover is addling my brain.

  The mansion that will be our set is in the neighbourhood of Bridle Path, a wealthy enclave twenty minutes from downtown. Amanda and I are in a daze at the size of the place.

  “Can you imagine cleaning this?” Amanda says.

  “It feels lonely.”

  The realtor doesn’t like me very much. He sniffs the air when I make a comment, so I wander off without him, but now I can’t find my way back to the kitchen. After opening twenty doors and shouting hello into every one of them, I hear a voice.

  “Down here!”

  We gather around the kitchen island, which is the size of the swimming pool outside, and Amanda goes down the list. “So we have the luxurious grand entrance for the limo shots, the games room, the multiple terraces, the banquet hall, the great room, five fireplaces, six bedrooms, ten bathrooms, the gym, the hot tub and sauna, the library, this state-of-the-art kitchen, and the guest house next door is great for Austin and the crew. Is there anything I’m forgetting?”

  “The elevator and the helicopter pad,” the realtor says.

  “Are you serious?”

  Mr. Real Estate doesn’t acknowledge me. I’ve had enough. “I’m sorry, I have a meeting. Thank you again, great choice.”

  When we get back to the office, lucky Amanda says good night, but I still have to go upstairs and report to Mr. Gardner. Waiting outside his office is nerve-racking. His secretary is a stern woman who never cracks a smile. I’m in a sweat just looking at her. Eventually she indicates that I can proceed into the inner sanctum. Mr. Gardner is at his desk.

  “Come in and sit down, Chloe. How’s everything going?”

  “Very well, sir.”

  “What did you think of the location? I hear it’s quite something.”

  “It’s perfect for our needs, but personally I think it’s shameful that only two people have been living in that house when there are so many other human beings on this planet with inadequate housing, people living in slums, tents, refugee camps, and in the streets. It’s depressing.”

  “The world isn’t fair, Miss Sparrow. Now fill me in.”

  When I eventually leave his office, I am bone weary. I’m grateful that he seems pleased with our progress, but at this moment I don’t give a rat’s ass, as Gramps always says. My bus ride home rocks me to sleep, so I miss my stop, but fortunately a kid screams at his mother and I wake up in time to get off at the next one, so I don’t have too far to plod. It just seems like it.

  I walk right into Aunt Ollie’s because their door is never locked. Someday I’ll find them dead on the floor, victims of a home invasion. I’ve asked them a hundred times to lock their door, but they never do. Aunt Ollie is at the kitchen table playing solitaire. Norton is snuggled in Gramps’s lap, while he rocks. It’s only then that I realize I haven’t eaten all day, so the first thing I do is slump in a chair.

  “You guys have any peanut butter?”

  They both nod. This is the part where I’d love one of them to jump up and make me a sandwich, but they don’t, and why should they? They’re twenty-six and forty-five years older than I am.

  While I’m at the counter, Gramps says, “You look like your mother.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “She used t
o come home looking like crap, too.”

  While I eat my sandwich I tell them about my coming schedule. “So I’ll be staying at the guest house when the day runs late, but I’ll call and let you know because I don’t want Norton to be alone.”

  “She’s not alone, I’ve got the nursery ready,” Aunt Ollie says. “It’s in my bedroom closet. She can stay with us from now on.”

  “Besides, she likes it here better than your place,” Gramps informs me.

  I burst into tears.

  “What on earth is the matter?” Aunt Ollie yells. “I thought you’d be pleased. It took me a long time to organize that closet. I even gave her two of my old wool blankets to snuggle up in and I put three pillows on the floor.”

  “I am pleased,” I sniff. “It’s been a long day.”

  Gramps gives me a searching look. “Are you sure you can handle this job?”

  “Of course I can handle it. I’m just not sure I want to. It’s too ridiculous. Do people actually think they’ll find true love in front of a camera?”

  “People can fall in love anywhere,” Aunt Ollie says. “Take me and Howie…”

  “Let’s not,” Gramps says.

  My aunt ignores him. “We met when I ran him over with my bike.”

  “A precursor to the backhoe,” Gramps mutters.

  Aunt Ollie flicks her dishtowel at his head. “Shut up, you old fool.”

  My energy is waning. “I better go. Thanks for the sandwich.”

  “You took two bites out of it. Do you want some meatloaf?”

  Should I tell my aunt yet again that I don’t eat meat? I can’t be bothered. I kiss the three of them on the head and secretly hope Norton follows me down the hall, but she doesn’t.

  I wish Norton would come home with me.

  Norton jumps off Gramps’s lap and chases after me down the hall.

  “Hey! Where ya goin’, you ungrateful cat?”

  The last twenty-four hours have been nightmarish, getting the ladies settled in the mansion with their luggage. The elevator is smoking by the end of it.

  Finally I’m able to gather everyone into the great room to introduce the ladies to our production team: the cameramen, the lighting guys, drivers, the makeup and hair people, and most importantly, the host, Trey Withers. I try a few times to get everyone’s attention, but they don’t listen until Amanda puts her fingers in her mouth and gives a shrill whistle.

  “Enough, people! Simmer down and listen to the boss.”

  All eyes are on me and I immediately regret not dressing more formally. I look like the assistants in the corner, with my jeans and sweater on. The ladies, on the other hand, have clearly tried to outdo each other. I wonder if they can keep this up.

  Public speaking is not my thing. The fierce grip I have on my clipboard while I hold it against my chest leaves me breathless. I wish to get through this speech without messing up.

  “Here we are, for what I hope will be a rewarding experience for all of you. Our team will do their best to help you with any concerns that arise, and I’m sure we will be fast friends by the end of this adventure. The Single Guy is the first show of its kind here in Canada, and we are committed to making it as professional as possible. The one thing we ask from you is to be authentic. Don’t try to be someone you’re not. We picked you because you are amazing women, so don’t forget that in the coming days. This will be an emotional journey, and one you’ll never forget.”

  The girls buzz with excitement.

  “Now, if you’ll be good enough to give your full attention to our fabulous host, Mr. Trey Withers, he will introduce you to the crew and fill you in on the coming days. We are extremely lucky to have Trey with us. Please give him a hand.”

  Applause breaks out, and Trey rushes over to kiss my cheek before extending his arms towards his groupies.

  “Hello, my beauties! Are you ready for a good time? Let’s do this thing!”

  The place erupts. My part is over and I get out as fast as I can. Amanda follows me into the kitchen, where the kitchen staff has laid out some goodies. She grabs a doughnut and I grab cheese.

  “You were great in there,” she says with her mouth full. “Well done, you.”

  “They only listened because you told them to. Where did you learn to whistle like that?”

  “I have five brothers.”

  I take another piece of Brie and a grape. “Wow. What was that like?”

  “Smelly.” Amanda picks up a glass of wine and hands it to me before taking one herself. “What shall we toast to?”

  “To coming out alive on the other side.”

  “And staying friends.”

  “Amen, sister.”

  When Amanda heads home for the night, I wander through the garden path to the guest house on the property. This is where the crew will be staying if necessary, with Austin. I made sure I gave him the biggest room. My bedroom is down the hall at the back of the house and overlooks the garden. It will afford me some privacy, I hope. I’ve been a loner for too long to relish the idea of other people milling around in their bathrobes every morning.

  A black-and-white Mini Coop zooms up the driveway and parks off to the side. Austin gets out just as I walk up to the back bumper.

  “I love your car.”

  He pops open the trunk. “Thank you. I’m fond of it myself.”

  “Can I help with your bags?”

  “Certainly not. You’re the big cheese.” He gathers up a duffle bag, and a couple of backpacks. Before he locks the car, I spy his suit hanging off a hook in the back seat. “I’ll take this, shall I?”

  “I suppose I’ll need that. Thank you.”

  I lead him upstairs and open the door to his room. “I hope this is suitable.”

  Austin looks around. “It’s bigger than my apartment.”

  “If you think this is big, don’t go next door. It’ll blow your mind.”

  He puts his belongings on the bed and I hang up his suit. “I’ll let you get settled. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

  “Thanks, Chloe.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Chloe?”

  I turn around. “Yes?”

  “Are you sure I’m what you want?”

  I don’t have a clue.

  “You’re perfect, Austin.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Today is the day we film the introductions, and I’ve never been so nervous in my life. This has to go very well. It will set the precedent for the rest of the shoot. I hand out the schedules and itinerary to my crew. I’m aware that the minute my back is turned they roll their eyes at my detailed strategies for every possible scenario, but at least they know it’s coming.

  Trey Withers doesn’t. He marches over to me. “We’re filming the introductions, the cameos, and the charm ceremony all in one go? That’ll take twelve hours.”

  “I’m not going to tell everyone to go to bed and have them come back in the morning wearing the same fancy dresses, with the exact demeanour they had the night before. It’s fake otherwise.”

  “Hello? This is television. It’s not real.”

  “Maybe so, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  Trey gives me a dirty look. “I’m not used to being ordered around by a Girl Guide.”

  Everyone stops and looks at me.

  “And I’m not used to being insulted. I’m the producer, Mr. Withers, and what I say goes. If you don’t like it, I’ll hire someone else.”

  That shuts him up.

  At that very moment, Austin comes up from the garden path and walks to the front of the mansion. He’s in a sharp navy blue suit, with a white shirt and black skinny tie. All the women on set stop what they’re doing and gawk. Not me. I run over to him as quickly as I can.

  “You look great, Austin. Like James Bond!�
�

  “Thanks, boss. I didn’t want to disappoint.”

  “Now, remember, you have to be bigger than you are.”

  “Bigger?”

  “You’re on television, so it has to be grander. Do you understand?”

  “Right, grander.”

  I pat his shoulder like a dog. “Good, good.”

  What looks like an intimate moment between the Single Guy and his future wife on the TV screen is actually a three-ring circus. There are camera, sound, and lighting guys littering the front of the mansion. Trey, still smarting from our earlier encounter, smokes a cigarette down to the nub while he waits for his cue. He looks like a thug who ratted out his mother.

  Amanda is down at the end of the driveway babysitting twenty women in a bus. The limousine driver knows to drive four contestants slowly up to the entrance and open the door for the emerging lady. Once the car is empty, he’ll zoom around the back way and pick up the next four.

  Amanda is out of breath as she runs up the driveway. “They’re ready to go whenever you give the signal.”

  She disappears behind a big potted plant within the girls’ position’s sight line, so she can pretend to slit their throats if they ramble over their allotted time. Not that we haven’t warned them in advance to keep it under a minute, but at this point they’re so enraptured with the free wine that none of them will listen to a thing we say.

  I’m wearing a headset that wraps around my ear with a small mike in front of my mouth. The limo driver can hear me. “Okay, we’re ready. Make sure you have the heat cranked in the car. The girls aren’t dressed too warmly.”

  We start rolling. The limousine pulls up, and Sydney is the first one out. We had quite a discussion about who the first woman should be, and it was agreed that sex sells, so why not put our sex kitten up first.

  It’s a good thing we can edit film. The look on Austin’s face when he sees Sydney is one of dismay. That’s because her nipples are walking ahead of her.

  “Stop! Stop, everyone.”

  Amanda and I run to Sydney. “You’re going to have to do that again. Has anyone got masking tape or duct tape or something?” I turn to Amanda. “Tell the driver to bring Sydney up again and fix this situation for all the ladies.”