Walk of Shame (12 page)

"Is Stephen getting a
color?" Troy asked the next morning.

I grabbed a bottle of water from
the mini-fridge that they kept out on the small patio, by my pool, and took a
drink as I fanned myself, trying to cool down after my run. "Yeah,
red."

"All right. I know I'm down
here a little earlier than we talked about. I just wanted to let you know that
the cameras are going to lay low until this evening. Unless someone starts
doing something interesting, then they'll come running."

"Okay," I said as I sat
on a reclining patio chair and closed my eyes against the sun's rays. I could
still feel him standing over me. I squinted up at him. "What?"

"You're supposed to let two
of the guys go tonight."

I made a face. "Yeah, I
know."

"Are you clear on who is
leaving?"

"No."

He sat in the chair next to mine.
"Well, we know Mack is leaving, right?"

I nodded. "I'm just not sure
who else I'm sending home."

"Well, it's still early. And
once we get you down to ten, it's just going to be a matter of eliminating one
a week. But, maybe you keep an extra one this week and you kick two out next
week."

I shook my head. "It's not
that I'm truly interested in all eleven of the others. It's that there are
three of the eleven I could ditch and not bat an eye."

"Is it that you've gotten to
know them, know there's nothing there, and can let them leave, positive you're
making the right choices? Or that you haven't had enough time to make a
connection and the others are blindsiding you with how quickly they work?"

I looked at him as my mind mulled
it over for a few seconds. "I don't know."

"Well think about it today.
I'd hate for you to get rid of the right guy just because he was a little
overwhelmed with all the guys and cameras in the first week. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Well, I'm off. But if you
want to talk more, text me."

"Yep." He started to
walk away. "Hey," I called out.

He spun back around.
"Yeah?"

"Can someone get Goldie to
the tennis courts?"

"Yeah." He pulled out
his phone. "I'll have someone get her there in the next couple of
minutes."

"Thanks."

Troy left and I stood and grabbed
my water and headed down the hill to the courts. I reached into their storage
trunk down there and grabbed a racket and basket of balls.

Goldie let out a whine when she
spotted me and came barreling towards me. I had to wonder how much longer I
could keep her ownership a secret from the guys, before she pinpointed where I
was staying and moved in with me where she belonged.

I spent an hour using a racket to
dribble a ball a few times to get Goldie's attention before I hit it against
the racket ball board. It would bounce off, and she'd catch it on the rebound,
then take off across the court with it. I'd pick up another ball and start
dribbling. She'd run back to me and wait for the next one to hit the board.

The whole time, I kept rolling
the three guys' names around in my mind, trying to remember our interactions
from the week.

Liam, Ardent, Mack, and Mitch all
showed up, looking to play a game to pass some time. I was fully intent on
leaving them be and excusing myself, letting them have the free time to catch a
break from the whole overwhelming process. But they insisted I join them. I was
questioning how five were going to play. But Mack quietly excused himself and
made his way back up the house.

"He's pretty sure he's
leaving tonight," Liam said from his spot on my side of the net as I
continued to stare after Mack's retreating back.

I turned back around and took the
empty spot on the court. "He's got good instincts," I said with a
shrug in my voice.

The guys exchanged a look between
them as a cameraman tried to blend in with the trees on the far side of the
court. It wasn't working, but I appreciated his effort.

"Anyone else thinking
they're out the door?" I asked.

Ardent chuckled. "No one who
already has their bags packed like Mack does."

"Anybody making life in the
main house miserable?" I asked, wondering if they could make my decision
any easier.

Another look traveled around the
court as the guys all looked at each other.

"Who?" I asked.

"It's not that he makes it
miserable up there," Ardent said.

"Then what is it?" I
asked.

"We don't know," Mitch
said. "It's like he has mood swings, or something."

My eyebrows drew together as I
looked at the group. "How bad?"

Mitch shrugged. "It's not
like he gets violent. Little things get to him and he starts yelling."

"And he knows he's doing
it," Ardent added. "Once he hears himself, he separates himself from
the group and disappears into another room. Production opened up another
bedroom and they let him sleep in there."

I looked at each one of them, my
expression serious, "Who?"

No one answered me.

I just continued to stand there,
waiting.

"We don't want to be accused
of influencing you, unless it gets bad," Liam said.

"Why?"

"Because," Mitch said,
"we actually think he's a decent guy."

"All right," I said.
"But, if he gets violent or verbally abusive, I want to know who, sooner
rather than later. I don't want to get attached to someone who's just going to
turn abusive once the cameras stop and we get back to real life, deal?"

"Deal,"
they echoed.

Troy led me into the room we were
filming the
Walk of Shame
in. "Wow, you spent the week torturing
these guys and they still clean up nice," he said as he walked me over to
place me on mark, across from the risers.

"That's because the suits
cover all their bruises," I quipped. Once I took my place, I looked up at
the group and noticed something that had me fighting the urge to burst out into
laughter. I tried to cover it, but it didn't work. "Who dressed you
guys?"

"They had a patriotic photo shoot
for some promo shots earlier. Production chose the outfits." And then Troy
turned just enough towards me so that the guys couldn't see him wink at me.

That's when I did a double take
to see who was wearing what. Four wore blue shirts, two pale blue, one white, two
rose pink, and three wore red. Production had gone ahead and ditched the flower
idea, and had replaced it with shirts. I had to wonder how many of the guys, in
their symmetrical placement upon the risers, had caught on to the joke being
played on them.

I tried to school my features,
the cameras were rolling and this was the formal part of the show.

"All right," Troy said
as he clasped his hands together and let them fall down to his sides.
"Let's get this portion of the evening underway. Emmaline will make her
selections. If you wish to accept her invitation to stay another week and get
to know her more, please make your way to stand along the side wall. If you
choose not to stay, please say your goodbyes and make your exit. If Emma does
not call your name and doesn't choose you, please, say your goodbyes and make
the
Walk of Shame
past the lineup." He turned to me. "Emma,
are you prepared to say goodbye to two gentlemen tonight?"

I smiled. "Yes."

"All right, please go ahead
and make your selections."

I took a breath and smiled.
"Jared?"

He smiled in return and moved to
go stand in front of the side wall.

"Phillip?"

He was trying to stifle a chuckle
as he made his way over. But once he took his new place, he was blatantly
looking at his own shirt and the shirt of the other man standing in line with
him.

Jared looked down and you could
see light dawning in his eyes before he started chuckling.

The rest of the guys realized
that the two in the lineup so far were wearing red shirts and were in various
states of amusement. Troy made a quieting motion with his hands to get us all
to settle down a bit so we could keep the formal part of the evening going.

But then I looked up and made eye
contact with Stephen. He smiled wide, and without me even saying a word, he
moved himself over to the lineup.

We all lost it. Even poor Mack,
standing there in his white shirt.

Troy made his 'quiet down' motion
again and cleared his throat.

We settled and I landed my eyes
on Mike, who'd stepped down to the bottom riser in the midst of the laughter,
in preparation for the move that his pink shirt guaranteed him.

I almost lost it as my smiling
eyes met his, but held on. "Mike?"

He nodded and made the move.

"Drake?"

He grinned as he took the two
steps down off the risers and went to stand in the lineup.

We all sobered once we all had
the red and pink shirts separated out. A layer of tension settled over everyone.
I could just imagine the instrumental music passage they'd cue up in the
editing booth at this moment in the episode, as the camera angles jumped from
me to the guys and back again.

"Liam?" I said.

He broke into a smile and nodded
before moving to the side.

"Ardent?"

He grinned and moved.

"Trevor?"

He smiled wide and moved.

"Mitch?" I called. Of
the four remaining, he was the one I'd spent the most amount of time with, and
Goldie had seemed to respond well to him at the pool party. And once I realized
that, I figured that I wasn't as indifferent about him as I'd once thought.

He made his way over to the line.

At this point, everyone knew that
Mack was going to be leaving, and he was handling it well, I had to give him
credit. It was really down to James and Tyler. Personally, I could just let
them both go and I was going to be sleeping just fine. But, with Troy warning
me that maybe one or both was just overwhelmed with everything this week, I'd
ditched that inclination. So I did the only other thing I could think to do, in
order to decide earlier today. I assigned James as heads and Tyler tails, and
flipped a coin.

"Tyler?"

He nodded to himself and moved on
over. And I had to wonder if he figured his being last to be called had
anything to do with him being last on my list of preferences.

Troy stepped forward. "Mack,
James, I'm sorry the time has come for you to leave us. Please make your way to
the door."

Handshakes and pats on the back
went through the group as the two made their way past the line of keepers. Both
stopped to say goodbye to me and wish me luck. And I felt like a complete idiot
because I didn't have anything to say to them other than 'thank you'. I was ill
prepared to give them praise or show them regret. I didn't know them, not
really. It was as simple as that. They'd been more gracious than I had, and
that made me ill at ease.

Production had us toast with
champagne to celebrate surviving the first week. After they'd gotten their
shot, everyone on the crew visibly relaxed and some started dispersing. Sure,
they'd still be filming, but the main event was over.

Amongst the guys, ties were being
loosened, jackets were coming off, and top shirt buttons were being undone.

"Hey, Troy?" I called
out.

"Yes, princess?"

"Is my activity for the night
ready?"

"Yes, it is."

I looked over to the guys.
"The original expectation was that we'd sit and linger in our formal wear
and chit-chat for a couple hours and unwind a bit from this week. But, I find
it hard to relax in a skin-tight gown, panty hose, and a hundred bobby pins in
my hair. And I think I've proven that I'm not staying in these heels any longer
than contractually necessary."

They laughed for me when I
paused.

"If suits are your idea of a
relaxed time, then by all means stay in them and keep drinking the bubbly. But,
the back of the hill, behind the house, has been covered and the water is
running, creating our own waterslide. Beer and hard lemonade are sitting in
coolers, and snacks are available," I told them with a grin. "So I
don't know about the rest of you, but I'm changing and heading to the
hill."

We all went to go change.
Production had set up floodlights over the area out back, and music was blaring
from a few speakers. We spent the next two hours acting like a bunch of
teenagers at a frat party, except we kept it legal. I took a turn going down
with each guy at one point of another. I tried to make a mental note of exactly
where their hands landed when they held me on the way down, who was comfortable
with me, and who I was and was not comfortable having that bit of contact with.

I spotted Phillip in the shadows,
watching me interact with the group. He readily met my eye contact and waved me
over to him. I did a quick glance around to see if anyone else was watching me in
the moment, before going to him.

He smiled, took my hand, and led
me around to the side of the house.

A cameraman turned off his
camera's light and switched to infrared before quietly following behind us.

I let Phillip corner me between
two landscaping bushes, against the wall of the house. "If I stop cooking,
will my next shirt turn white?" he asked.

"No," I whispered.
"The food grabs my attention, but doesn't keep it. I like your relaxed
manner, your confidence, your patience, the way you stand back and consider the
best option before acting, and the quiet way you eased into the good graces of
everybody in the house."

"Hmm," he braced a hand
against the wall and leaned in. He brushed his cheek against mine and
whispered, "And if I kiss you now, will that turn my shirt white next
week?"

I smiled against his ear and
whispered, "It'll turn your shirt white if you don't kiss me now."

He was smiling when he pulled
away just enough to capture my lips with his as my arms came up to let my
fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck.