“Oh no, please go on. My redeeming qualities. What might those be in your pretty green eyes?”
I’m momentarily stunned to hear the wordprettycome out of Holland’s mouth in reference to me.
“I—“ I shake my head. “Ugh. No. That’s all you get. You’re my player, Holland. I’m not here to flatter you.” I start to walk up to the inn.
Holland matches my steps. “It was my kissing that did it for you, wasn’t it?”
“Goodbye!” I shove him backward and march toward the inn.
All the while his laughter seems to multiply like bunnies in my wake.
14
Working For You
Holland
It’s only Wednesday, but this already feels like the week that’ll never end. After practice with Mallory on Monday morning, I had my date with Ava. Then yesterday, we had a bouquet ceremony, where—surprise—no one was eliminated. We’ve got to keep enough people around to have a show, or at least that’s what Vivian hissed to me following the whole debacle with Michelle, Cambria, and Liz. I’m already down to fewer contestants thanMEMwould prefer at this point in the “journey,” and I don’t think Vivian was thrilled that I made a unilateral decision about sending all three of those women home. The drama of them sticking around would have made for great TV, but whatever. It’s my life, and I don’t have time for people who don’t care about anything beyond looking good on my arm.
The rest of the women here seem to be normal and actually interested in me. At least there’s that. But I’m exhausted. The trailer that production has driven into the back parking lot at the Cashmere Cove mini-golf course has got to be three thousand degrees. It shouldn’t be. It’s a cool April day. The air temperature outside could even be described as chilly.
But I’m inside, having my face powdered by a woman named Rizzo, and I feel like I’m in a one-person sauna with ten other humans. There’s only five of us in here. But the point stands.
Rizzo keeps giving me the stink eye when I shift in my chair, like I’m a painting she can’t quite get right. Callen is going through what I should expect for the day of filming ahead. Vivian is leaning against the bank of cabinets on the far wall, scrolling through herphone. Her assistant, Caroline, is at her shoulder, gnawing on a piece of chewing gum like her life depends on it.
The trailer’s tiny window is on the wall behind Vivian and Caroline. I peer through it, tuning everything else out and focusing on the sliver of daylight that signals the fresh air I can look forward to when I’m done with this trailer madness.
I’ve got a group date ahead of me, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I’ll be in my element on a golf course, albeit a mini one. It should be a pretty relaxed outing—or at least I’m hoping so.
“We’ll only need to have you eliminate one woman this cycle,” Callen says, drawing my attention.
“One? Okay.” I nod. “I can do that.”
Callen starts in on the line-up of one-on-one conversation timeslots and who’ll be urged to corner me first, and how I should play it. I make humming noises to show him I’m half listening, but my attention is taken by movement through the window.
Six of the women have arrived. Everyone is here except for Belle, who we have slated to get the only one-on-one date of the cycle later this week. That means I have seven women left total.
My gaze pings to Mallory. She’s last to leave the SUV production rented to shuttle the women from Daisy’s Inn across town to the mini-golf course.
Another one of the ladies, Mindy Sue, waits for her to exit and then points to the sky. Mallory follows her finger and looks up. The two of them get left behind, staring at the clouds, while the rest of the women hustle toward the facilities to do who knows what.
I can tell Mindy Sue and Mallory are deep in conversation. Mindy Sue keeps gesturing upward, and Mallory holds up her arms in a shrug, and then she’s talking with her hands. Suddenly, Mallory breaks into some type of dance sequence. Mindy Sue doubles over laughing, and I catch sight of the wide smile slashing across Mallory’s face when she pivots in the direction of the trailer.
The sight of Mallory having fun causes a tightening in my chest. I feel guilty for watching her as she lets loose. It feels like I’m sneaking around, as ridiculous as it sounds. It’s such a different picture of my coach than I’m used to seeing—than she’s ever let me see. The Mallory I’m acquainted with is buttoned up in a way that would seem to choke the lifeblood out of anything that’s not the game of golf.
But this view of her? Relaxed. Carefree. Laughing. I can’t bring myself to look away. If I was half in love with her before, I fear I’m one hundred percent gone for her now.
Mallory does the dance again, and through the walls of the trailer, I hear Mindy Sue’s peals of laughter. Mallory joins in, and the low, faint sound of it makes me sit up straighter. I’m dying for more where that came from.
Rizzo curses under her breath. “Sit still.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, longing with every fiber in my being to be outside so I could listen in on whatever Mindy Sue and Mallory are up to. So I could try to bottle up the unfettered joy that is so atypical of my coach I think I might be imagining this entire scene.
Vivian is eyeing me with curiosity, and she’s obviously caught wind of Mallory’s and Mindy Sue’s antics outside, because she keeps looking over her shoulder and shooting glances back at me. She leans her head toward Caroline, and I hear her say something that sounds like “opposite teams.”
Caroline nods and scoots out of the trailer. She appears in the window, beckoning Mindy Sue and Mallory forward. They get a hold of themselves, link their arms together, and trail Caroline, disappearing from my view.
“All done.” Rizzo steps back, and I hop off the chair.
