very James Bond-y, and I like that about him.”
Cindy is clearly unimpressed with my responses. “Honey, what we’re looking for here is more personal detail. Did you feel anything when you met?”
A sore butt?
I shake my head. “Sorry, not really, no.”
“No sexual tension? No desire to touch him, to kiss him?”
I think of the way he made me feel when he came to sit next to me on the sofa and swiftly push those feelings away. “Nothing. I will try to feel something, though.”
“You do that.” Her tone is not exactly genuine. She glances at her notes and then looks back up at me. “How about you tell us about the other contestants. Who do you think has a shot with him, who do you see as your competition, who do you want to be sent home next? That kind of thing.”
There’s no way I’m going to get drawn into dishing the dirt on my fellow contestants. I’ve watched reality TV. I’ve seen how that plays out on these shows, and the person dishing the dirt is never portrayed in a good light.
“Kennedy is terrific. She’s smart and funny and super pretty. I really like her.”
“So, you see Kennedy as your competition?”
“No. I mean she would be a good choice for Sebastian, that’s all.” If Sebastian weren’t a total douche, that is.
Cindy looks at me like I’ve told her I’m a Martian who sucks people’s brains out through their ears. “You don’t see yourself as a good choice for Sebastian?”
“Well, of course I do,” I reply hurriedly. “Who wouldn’t? He’s got the sexy accent that I mentioned before and the suit that makes him look like James Bond. It’s a winning combo.”
Cindy gestures for me to elaborate.
“Of course I find Sebastian attractive. I mean, he’s Mr. Darcy, right?”
Either she’s satisfied with my responses or she’s completely despaired of me, but the next thing I know I’m being thanked and excused and I head to the dining room for some much needed caffeination.
I’m pouring a cup when Phoebe appears beside me. She’s just as pretty as she was last night, despite the lack of makeup and styled hair, and I give her a smile, genuinely happy to see her again.
“Hey, Emma. How was your night? Sleep well?” she asks as she collects a fresh coffee mug from the collection on the table.
“It was fine,” I answer without a hint of truth. You see, I’ve got roommates. Two of them: Reggie and Lori. Between Reggie’s snoring and Lori’s sleep talking (all mumbled, nothing of interest), I think I grabbed only a handful of hours of sleep. “How was yours?”
“I slept so well,” she replies with a beaming smile. “I’ve got the nicest roommates. We talked for a while, and agreed to be friends no matter what happens with Sebastian.”
“You did? Who are your roommates?”
“Hayley and Camille,” she replies, naming the two worst possible girls she could.
“I’d be careful with them,” I say under my breath.
“Why?”
“Just trust me on this one.”
“Okay. Want to sit with me?”
“Sure.”
We find a free sofa over by the window with a view of manicured lawns and the fields beyond and sit down. We could almost be in Mr. Darcy’s Pemberley, if it weren’t for the fact everything in this ranch was made in China.
“Have you done your first interview?” I ask her.
“Oh, yes. I got called in early. It was fun to get to talk about Sebastian and all the wonderful people I’ve met so far on this show.”
I take a much-needed sip of my coffee. “Why did you enter the show?”
“I don’t know,” she replies with a shrug. “It seems so romantic, you know? Meeting the love of your life on somewhere as crazy as a TV show? It’s worked for others, so I figured, why not for me?”
“I’m not sure it’s worked for many others, exactly.”
“It has for some, though.”
“Really?”
“Definitely.”
Phoebe is relentlessly positive, I’ll give her that.
“Do you think Sebastian’s the guy for you?” I ask.
She bites on her lip for a moment as she looks out at the view before replying, “I think he could be.”
“Personally, I think the chances of one of us finding love with this guy are about as likely as the Pope wearing a tutu to his next public event.”
She giggles. “I’d like to see that.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She takes a sip of her coffee and asks, “Why do you think he won’t fall in love with one of us?”
I shrug. “I dunno. He’s this great looking, super rich guy who lives