Unscripted (16 page)

“Totals. He has really pretty eyes, and he’s tall. I love tall.”

A minute later, Lisa power walks by, giving Christine and me the once-over. “Ladies, don’t you have work to do?” she snaps. But before I can answer, she’s heading off toward the pool, shouting into her headset. “I don’t give a shit that there was an accident on the 101. Tell the florist to send another van, then. We need those fucking flowers here in one hour.”

I turn back to Christine and roll my eyes. “We should probably go over our interview questions together and see if we’ve missed anything.”

“Okay.”

Before we have the chance to tear ourselves away from the evil snack table, Grant walks over and grabs a bottle of water.

“I see you’re working hard,” he mumbles sarcastically out of the side of his mouth.

“Shut it, bitch,” I say, punching him in the arm.

“I’m just sayin’…”

“We’re going to get to work in a minute. But there’s not exactly a ton to do right now.”

“I’m just giving you shit.”

“Mmm, well just be sure not to give me shit in front of anyone important.”

“Will do.” He smiles and throws his arm around my shoulder. “You know I always have your back.” He tilts his head and places a big kiss on top of my head. “Love ya, gotta go. Some of us actually have work to do.”

After Grant is out of earshot, Christine turns to me. “You should go for him.”

“What? No way. We’re just friends.”

“Doesn’t look like that to me.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no story behind that one.”

“Okay,” she enunciates each letter for effect.

I shrug my shoulders and turn to leave when suddenly I see Will standing next to the catering van. He’s staring right at me. He looks strange. I smile tentatively at him, but he turns away without catching my eye. Yikes, did he just hear our entire conversation? Including the fact that I haven’t done any work today? I hope he didn’t overhear that whole Christine exchange. I don’t want him to think I’m flirting with everyone instead of working. But he didn’t look angry. I’m not really sure how he looked. He looked different. Why am I even thinking about this? He’s not pissed at me. There’s nothing to be pissed about. I need to drop it. I wonder if Christine noticed anything.

For the love of God, stop it!
I’ve wasted too much time as it is analyzing this man’s behavior.

“Come on, let’s head inside and go over our notes,” I say to Christine.

“Blech.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But we can come back out in twenty for snacks.”

“Mmm, that’s why I love working with you.” Christine smiles as we both head toward the house.

At 7:00 a.m. on the dot, the guys arrive at the house for the first time. There’s definitely a buzz in the air as everyone takes their places and prepares for tonight’s shoot.

Christine and I stand off to one side as a white stretch Hummer slowly makes its way up the drive. I’m trying to stay as far away from the cameras as possible. God forbid, I should walk into one of Grant’s carefully planned shots. I’d never hear the end of it.

All of the camera guys loosely circle the limo while the jib operator maneuvers the long arm of his crane to get the perfect overhead shot. It takes forever, but eventually the show’s suitors clamber out of the car one by one.

Now, when I pitched the idea of a masquerade, I was thinking of the type of mask you’d see at a swanky ball, something that just covers the top half of your face. I pictured something a little ornate, but, for the most part, simple and tasteful. Unfortunately, that’s not what I’m currently staring at. These thick rubber masks cover the entire face, with holes only for the eyes, mouth and nostrils. Also, every guy is a different color, so you’ve got the Blue Man, the Red Man, the Green Man and so on. They all look like Jason from
Friday the 13th
and it’s scaring the hell out of me.

“Wow, cool,” Christine whispers in my ear.

I snap my head around to look at her. “Come on. I feel like I’m staring at a rainbow of mass murderers. Look at Blue Man over there. He definitely has someone’s head in his freezer.”

“Oh man, thanks. Now I’m going to have nightmares.”

I smile, trying not to laugh.

“They’re Lisa’s designs.”

“Are you kidding?” I ask incredulously. “She actually designed these masks specifically for the show?”

“Yeah, she gave the art department her sketches like a week ago and they did the mold and the masks in a couple of days,” Christine says.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but they’re awful. They’re going to creep out the viewers. Thank God they’re not wearing these things for every episode. Can you imagine?”

Christine doesn’t respond. Instead, she’s looking around in a panic. “Shit shit shit.” She runs her hands through her short, spiky hair.

“What?” I ask.

“I think I left my purse upstairs.”

“Upstairs, where?”

“In the main bedroom,” she says guiltily.

“You mean in Katie’s room?”

Christine groans. “Um. Yeah.”

“Why did you leave your purse up there? There wasn’t even anyone upstairs earlier. We were all down here getting ready.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I got bored. I thought I’d just wander around.”

“Well you can’t go up there now. Lisa and Will are probably still doing Katie’s first interview before she comes down to meet the guys.”

“Oh man. But my cell phone is in there, and I didn’t turn it off.”

“Christine! If that thing goes off, they’re going to kill you.”

“I know,” she groans. “What do I do?”

Technically, I’m Christine’s boss, so I’ll take the bullet for her this time. “Nothing. I’ll go and get it.”

“You will? Oh my God, thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just be careful next time, okay?”

“I will,” she says. “I promise.”

I walk into the foyer and quickly run up one of the marble staircases. I know it’s safe because the crew is following the guys outside while they check out the pool, gardens and outdoor game room.

A PA is guarding the double doors outside Katie’s bedroom. He’s slouched in a chair and looks as though he’s sleeping.

“Hey, Sam,” I whisper. He opens his bloodshot eyes and looks annoyed. “One of the segment producers left her phone inside and it’s not turned off.”

He yawns. “Hmm. They’re doing the interview with her now,” he says, sounding bored or stoned or both.

“Yes, I realize that.”

“Well then, I can’t let you in.”

“Actually you can. If that phone goes off as much as it normally does, Will and Lisa will be beyond pissed.” I begin to tap my foot.

Without saying anything else, he gets up out of his chair and quietly turns the knob on one of the large, mahogany doors.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

Immediately upon entering the bedroom, I sense trouble. No one is filming anything. Instead, they’re all paired off, speaking in hushed tones, and Katie is nowhere to be found. I quickly look around until I see the strap of Christine’s bag peeking out underneath the grand, four-poster bed. I’ll just grab it and sneak out.

“Abby, can I talk to you for a minute?”

I whip around to find Will standing behind me. His brow is definitely furrowed. How does he always manage to sneak up on me like that?

“Sure, what’s up?”

He walks me over to a pair of French doors that lead to a balcony overlooking the ocean.

“I think Katie might have a touch of stage fright. We got the interview with her, and when we told her it was time to go downstairs to start filming, she freaked out and excused herself to the bathroom. She’s been in there for thirty minutes.”

I cock my head to the side and try to look concerned. “Yikes, what are you going to do?”

“I was actually just about to come and find you. Grant says you’re really good at talking people off ledges. He said you did it all of the time on
Matchmaker.
”

I pause for a second. I know where this is leading. Will wants me to go in there for a therapy session with a girl I’ve never met.

I place the purse strap over my shoulder and smile. “You want me to go in there and talk to her?”

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. Lisa tried, but it didn’t seem to work.”

Hmm, I wonder why?
“Okay, should I just go and knock on the door?”

“Yeah, follow me. I’ll introduce you.”

As we walk toward the bathroom, Lisa appears out of nowhere and ambushes us. “What’s up?” she asks.

“I’m going to send Abby in there. She has experience doing this.”

Lisa looks me up and down. “Well, Katie shut me out when I was just in there. I don’t know what Abby can do that I haven’t done.”

Will knocks on the bathroom door and turns to Lisa. “I heard she has a soft approach,” he whispers.

Lisa’s eyes widen as she takes a step back from the door. I’m trying hard not to smile, but I can’t help it. I have to. I know I probably look smug right now, but I really don’t care. Take that, mean girl!

A tiny voice from the bathroom calls out, “Come in.”

Will opens the door and turns to Lisa. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

I follow Will inside the bathroom and find Katie sitting on a pink velvet vanity stool staring out the leaded-glass window. She’s wearing a tight, black, strapless ball gown, and her titian hair is swept up in a very loose updo. Her skin is like ivory with the exception of a few freckles that sprinkle the bridge of her nose and the tips of her shoulders.

“Katie, I’d like you to meet one of our producers. Her name is Abby. She just wanted to come in and say hi.”

Katie turns her head away from the window to look at me. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I say, smiling warmly.

“Listen, I need to take care of something downstairs,” Will says. “Katie, I hope to see you down there soon.”

Katie nods her head.

After Will closes the door behind him, I hop up onto the white tiled counter next to Katie. “Well, this is awkward,” I say as I open Christine’s purse to look for her phone. “I just came upstairs to grab a segment producer’s purse because she left her cell phone on.” Katie smiles as she watches me dig through the bottomless pit of Christine’s large leather tote.

“So they roped you into coming in to talk to me?” Katie asks.

“Well, Will said you were feeling nervous.” I continue to dig through the purse. “Jesus, this bag is ridiculous.” I feel Christine’s phone, pull it out, and with it comes an accordion-style package of condoms, eleven to be exact.

“Whoops, looks like someone’s getting busy.” Katie laughs.

“Good God.” I feel my face flush for Christine. Let’s hope Will doesn’t pop back in now.

“What’s up with that?” she asks. “Who carries that many condoms around?” She shakes her head and seems to relax a bit.

“They must have been having a sale at Costco. And look, they’re ribbed ooh, and studded, for extra sensation for her,” I say, reading the label.

“Studded? I’ve never heard of that one before,” she says, laughing even harder.

I fold up the packet and drop it back into Christine’s purse. “Are you kidding? Ribbed is a new one for me. It’s been that long.”

Katie turns back toward the window. “You and me both.”

Okay, it’s time to get bold. “Is that why you came on the show? Do you really want to meet a guy?”

Katie turns back to me. “Totally. I don’t care at all about being on TV. That’s so not me. I submitted my tape as a joke. I didn’t really think they’d be interested. I’m not one of those people who wants to be discovered or anything like that. I have a career already. I’m a real-estate agent, I make good money, have a nice condo in Palm Beach, I’m pretty much set. But I don’t have a boyfriend. And believe me, I’ve dated some serious jerks in the past.”

I hope she’s ready for her walk down Bad Boyfriend Lane.

“If it’s any consolation, I think there are a couple of good ones down there. I’m sure there will be some you don’t like too, but they’re all here to meet you.” I pause to gather ammunition.

“You know, a couple of these shows have ended in marriage, and children too.”

She thinks this over for a minute. “I just don’t want to look bad. I heard crazy things about these shows, like they can make you say whatever they want you to say during the editing process.”

I clear my throat. “You’re the star of the show. They’re not going to do that with you. They might do it with some of the guys. But not with you.”
Unless you turn out to be a complete diva and the producers and editors don’t like you. Then watch out, lady. Then they’ll use every unattractive angle they can find and frankenbite your ass.
Hmm. Maybe it’s best to keep that part to myself.

Katie takes a deep breath, stands up and smoothes out her dress. “Okay, I’m ready. It’ll be fine,” she says more to herself than to me. “It’ll be just fine.”

As we walk back into the bedroom, Will and Lisa are standing on the balcony looking at the setup down below.
Well, don’t they make a pretty picture.

“Katie’s ready now!” I shout, startling them.

Will walks out and takes Katie’s arm. “So you’re good?”

Katie nods yes and Will smiles and mouths “thank you” to me as he leads her out of the room. Lisa smiles tightly and scurries to catch up with them.

Finally, the party is well on its way. Katie seems to be doing well. Better than that, actually. She’s flitting around like a prom queen. I think she’s caught on to the point of the show, because she’s already identified two of her ex-boyfriends just by their voices. Either that, or she was tipped off by the massive amount of questions about ex-boyfriends in her application.

We started out by filming at the pool, where Katie and her suitors had cocktails and
hors d’oeuvres.
They circled around her like vultures, asking her dozens of questions about herself. I’ve never seen a guy this attentive before, much less a flock of them. Most of the time on
Matchmaker,
the male daters just talked about themselves. But guys like to compete. And this is a competition. I doubt any of them are here for love. They’re here to win.

After the guys finish their drinks, I decide to grab a few on-the-fly interviews with several of them. It’s my first interaction with any of them, but I already know what to expect— drunk, stupid, camera-hogging schmucks.

I ask Christine to round up the first guy who looks available while I set up the shot with one of the camera guys downstairs in the library. As I reread the statistics on each suitor, I hear a knock on the door. Christine is standing there with Blue Man. I let them both in and ask him to de-mask.

“Just take a seat, and we can get started,” I say, pointing to a desk chair in front of a wall full of books.

“You got it,” he replies, peeling off the mask to reveal a gorgeous, yet sweaty face. He takes a seat in the chair and quietly crosses his legs. The hair-and-makeup girl dabs his face and applies powder to take away the shine. His eyes are pale blue, lined with a ring of green specks, his hair is thick and dark, and his teeth are ridiculously perfect. On top of that, he has the highest cheekbones and the cutest dimples I’ve ever seen.
Shit.
I’m in trouble.

“Uh, hi, hi, helloooo. So, um. You’re Lee? No wait, Joe. Ryan. No, don’t tell me. I have it right here.” I clumsily sift through the papers in my lap and begin to giggle. “Oops, I was totally prepared for this. I swear.”

He shoots me a dazzling smile. “No problem, beautiful. Take your time. There is no place I’d rather be than here.”

“Awww, you’re so sweet,” I say, throwing my hand in a silly wave. I turn to Christine who raises her eyebrows at me. The camera guy forces a cough and shakes his head ever so slightly. All right, I get it. I’m acting like a middle-schooler with a crush. I can handle this. Good-looking men never throw me. I’m a rock, damn it. A rock!

“You’re Ryan.”

“That’s me,” he says, flashing me those dimples again.

Damn he’s so cute.
“So, this is how the interview is going to go. I won’t be on camera, so if you could please incorporate my questions into your answers, that would be great.”

“Absolutely. Fire away.”

Oh, he’s so nice! “So, you’re one of the exes. Can you tell me about your relationship with Katie? How did you guys meet? How long did you go out for? And why did you break up?”

“Well, Katie and I met in college. She was a freshman. I was a senior. We were taking a human sexuality class together.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought she was beautiful, but I was shy. So it took me until the end of the semester to finally get the nerve to ask her out for a coffee.”

Oooh, he’s shy. I love shy.

“We only dated a few months, but those months were magical.” He looks off into the distance as if in a daydream.