Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlotte grinning.
Marcus is looking at me, and I see his eyes flick down to my lips. “I’m not supposed to give anything away,” he says after a minute, then swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“Well, in that case, I’d hate to pressure you,” I say. “Why don’t you ask me some standard questions? Actually,” I interrupt him when he goes to speak, “don’t. Jac is a thirty-two-year-old writer from Charleston, South Carolina. She was born and raised in South Carolina, took a sojourn to New York City, and left when it got too expensive and too lonely. She has been in Charleston for almost a year with her dog, Yank, who is currently staying with her funnier and better-looking little brother and his fiancée. Both parents living, no life-shattering divorces or deaths or sad single-mom tales, and nothing but casual, failed relationships for—” I start jokingly counting on my fingers and then stop. “You know what, let’s just not. It’s been a while.”
This. This was the part I was good at. Being untouchable, being easy and smart, never spending too much time wallowing in anything too intimate or sad. This was how men loved me, until they didn’t.
“Is that all?” Marcus asks. It’s a speech I had semi-planned out before I got here, and one I’m sure the producers will love. Marcus is playing his part so perfectly, I’m impressed at what a good love interest he is already.
“Well, I can’t reveal my tragic backstory until after a few dates, Marcus; those are just the rules.”
Then he leans down and kisses me.
It surprises me, how quickly it happens, but it’s a pitch-perfect culmination of our meet-cute. I sink into it. He has firm lips, and the kiss lasts longer than expected, but I can’t help but feel aware of all the cameras on the two of us, of the way this is playing out like a rom-com.
I’m really part of their story now.
Finally, he pulls back, and his eyes go to my lips again and then to my eyes, and we both laugh nervously.
“Marcus!” someone calls. We both look up and it’s Andi the accountant. “Can I steal you for a second?” she asks, smiling saccharine sweet.
Marcus, carefully, so as to not get any water on my dress, gets up and out of the pool, grabbing his shoes. “But you didn’t tell me any of your secrets,” I whisper to him, grabbing on to his hand before he can leave.
“I will,” he promises me, leaning back down closer—too close in front of another girl, I think. “Soon.”
Then he goes; I stare at his backside as he does.
Charlotte rushes over to me with a towel, helping me up out of the pool. “That was good!” she gushes. “Jesus, you are sexy.”
“Yeah . . .” I say slowly. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”
“The sparks were flying,” she assures me. “If you need any more towels, let Elodie know,” she says, pointing to Elodie crouching nearby so the camera won’t catch her as Andi and Marcus make their way to another part of the house. “I have to run, but call me if you need me.”
“Sure,” I say, wrapping the towel around myself. I slide back into my heels.
“You look great,” Elodie assures me, hurrying over. “I know you’re going to be a star on the season.”
“Uhm—thanks.”
“It’s my first season as a producer,” Elodie tells me conspiratorially. “I’ve been a production assistant the past few seasons.”
“Congrats?” I venture.
“Thanks,” she says, genuinely smiling. She pauses as noises come through from her headset. “Can you head back inside okay? I need to go set up something for one of the girl’s one-on-one time. Priya will grab you as soon as you’re back inside.”
I nod, but Elodie has already taken off. Alone, save for the staff everywhere, I begin walking across the blindingly lit patio toward the house. I go in a side door where it’s dark, and right as I do, Henry walks past me.
“Hey, wait, stop,” I say, reaching out and grabbing his arm. He does; he was practically running in the other direction, but he stops, stands there across from me. “I need to talk to you,” I say. He doesn’t meet my eye.
“Later,” he says, his gaze darting toward the door where his next assignment surely awaits. “We have to get through tonight first. I have to produce.” He looks exhausted and alive, and my mind races at the sight of him, at the memory of his bachelor pad in Venice Beach, at what he’d told me that night. He’d been a person headed back to a place he didn’t want to be. Of course he had.
He doesn’t look like that now. He looks like he’s thriving, a low energy thrumming from him like an engine.
“Fine,” I say. “Later. But I’m serious, we need to talk. If I survive the night.”
“You’re on the list,” Henry says, and his eyes finally meet mine, a current going through me like an electric spark. “So later it is.” He begins to walk away, but then turns back around and says, “Red,” eyes skimming my dress. Thusly fucking up my whole life, he hurries off after his pretty little contestant.
Well.
I guess I’m on the list.
The night drags on, endlessly on, and girls are drunk and crying and a couple are napping sitting up in overstuffed chairs. Priya asks if she can grab me for one more ITM before the elimination ceremony. I sit through it, dead-eyed, feeling as if I barely have anything left to give, the camera trained on me with Priya looking increasingly bored with my answers.
“Let’s try one more,” she tells me. “I just need one good answer from you, Jac, and then we’ll be done.” As she says this, Charlotte slides through the door, watching me from a corner, arms folded over her chest. She speaks over Priya. “Come on, Jac. You’ve met Marcus. You’ve met the other girls. What do you think of them?”
I stare at the camera, completely drained, yet confident at what I’d already managed in one night. I steel myself to give a good answer, take a sip of my champagne, and say it without thinking about it: “The other girls? I don’t think about them at all.”
Charlotte smiles. “Cut and print.”
Another One Podcast, First Episode of Season 32
JULIA: On today’s episode of Another One, we’re talking to Monday Night Football host and former St. Louis Ram, Drew Clayton.
DREW: Thanks for having me, Julia.
JULIA: No problem, Drew! When our mutual friend Courtney Thomas told me you watched the show, I knew I had to get you on. How long have you been watching the 1?
DREW: Keonte Smith actually got me into it. Claimed he used to watch it with his mom. Became a big thing during the playoffs—the only non-game film I watched up to Super Bowl Sunday was usually episodes of the 1.
