To make matters worse, Jennah is here too. She’s perched on the edge of a chair, looking smug. She gets the one-on-one date later tonight, and she and I just finished filming her opening the date card. Holland is taking her to the lighthouse at the tip of Cashmere County. Apparently, there are stunning views to be enjoyed. I doubt they’re as good as the ones at Cherry Blossom Park, but whatever.
In my head, I am doing deep-breathing exercises. Mental deep breathing. Is that a thing? I’m making it a thing, because I don’t want to think about Holland spending time with any of the rest of these women. And Ilikethese women. I’m a girl’s girl. I’m not usually jealous. But I slept like crap last night because I got home after my date with Holland and I was wired. I lay in bed, stared at the ceiling, and regretted my decision not to let him kiss me.
What if he kisses someone else? What if he falls for one of these intelligent, fun, accomplished women? What if I missed my shot with him?
I suck in a breath, no longer doing exercises in my brain. My brain is a betrayer with all these what-ifs.
The producers are forcing girl talk between Jennah and me, where we speculate on what the other women are doing on their date and talk about Jennah’s upcoming date and how much we’re into Holland. Neither of us is into it.
“Someone needs to say something.” Vivian taps her foot with frustration. She’s standing behind the nearest camera, and she points back and forth between the two of us. “Talk about Holland. Come on. Mallory? Jennah? Someone, go.”
“I can’t wait to see Holland later.” Jennah shifts on the couch and sits up straighter, taking the bait. “He’s so hunky.”
Hunky?Who uses the word hunky these days?
“I’ve never seen him not looking good. It’s kind of crazy,” she says. “Don’t you think?”
This is what I was hoping to avoid. This conversation makes me want to poke my eyeballs with needles. I try to give Jennah the benefit of the doubt. It’s not fun to be forced to talk when you don’t want to talk. But could we not come up with anything other than Holland’s looks? He’s so much more than the handsome golfer.
“I mean, I guess so, yeah.” I shrug.
“You guess?” Jennah sticks up her nose at me. “You’ve spent the most time with him, and you’re telling me you don’t think he’s hot? What are you still doing here?”
There’s an intake of breath from someone off camera. I don’t glance over to see who it is, but I appreciate the show of loyalty.
I cross my arms, thinking over my words before I speak. “I’m here for Holland,” I begin. “You’re right. No one can say he isn’t hot.” I can’t believe I said that on camera, but whatever. I’m in this thing now, so I take a deep breath, and I go on. “He’s also a good listener, and he’s attentive and thoughtful. He’s the whole package. His actions and who he is as a person combine to make him even more attractive to me.”
Jennah smirks. “I can’t wait to get in on the action and unwrap his whole package tonight.”
My jaw comes unhinged, and Jennah’s smirk grows.
“Alright, cut.” Vivian steps forward. “That’ll work. You ladies are free to go.”
Jennah hops off the couch and sashays to her room, leaving me with a terrible taste in my mouth. Is it too much to hope that Holland sends her home at the start of their date? I don’t like the thought of her spending time with him.
I give myself a mental shake. Holland is a grownup. He can handle himself, and he gets to make his own choices. It’s none of my business.
I head over to the inn’s coffee bar. I need the caffeine. Daisy is standing there, pocketing her phone as I come around the corner.
“Morning, Mallory. Or should I say, champ?” She winks at me. “From what I hear, those pies didn’t stand a chance with you in the contest yesterday.”
“I guess not.” I force a smile as I swallow down my frustration and my mounting panic.
I can’t stop replaying our date. Did I imagine the sparks? Am I falling for Holland now, and he’s having second thoughts about me? Did I go majorly public with that on-camera declaration about how he’s the whole package only to have him basically blow me off?
Daisy puts her hand on my arm, as if she can sense my struggle and knows I need a calming presence. “You okay, dear?”
I grab for one of the ceramic mugs and grip it tightly. “I’ll be fine. In my own head is all.”
She nods knowingly. “This is a mental game, isn’t it?”
I nod. “To put it mildly.”
“Holland is fortunate to have you in his corner. What you said just now was very kind.”
“It was all the truth,” I tell her. I hadn’t realized she was listening.
“I know that. I’ve seen it. But sometimes he doesn’t let the rest of the world see it—at least, that’s what I think.” She beams at me. “You’re good for him.”
