It’s kept her at bay, but knowing Loretta Silva, the not knowing has to be killing her.
I let loose a breathy chuckle as I think back on the week. Good drama. I highly doubt that Dick Wad would describe most of what’s happened on camera as good drama. In fact, I heard him complaining to Teri that even with the cameras rolling twenty-four seven, they haven’t caught much. A little gossip between the girls, but nothing groundbreaking.
Maybe if he’d had a camera in Emmett’s kitchen, the prickle extraction experience would have excited him. But I thank the stars above that’s not the case, because Richard finding out about that is the last thing either of us needs.
He’s a loose cannon with very specific ideas about what he wants to unfold. There’s no doubt in my mind that getting that up close and personal with the bachelor when it wasn’t strictly necessary would be enough for him to fire me.
“Bits and pieces,” I say, evasively. “The first elimination ceremony is tonight. And he has to send two women home. So, I’m assuming there will be some exciting revelations in their exit interviews. Or maybe some shots fired, we’ll see. And then tomorrow is a day off. Although there will still be crews on-site and twenty-four-hour camera footage. There are endless opportunities for them to pick something up.”
Mom leans forward, as if she’s trying to draw even closer so she can whisper her next question. “And are you going to tell me who the bachelor is?”
My cheeks pinch as I stare back at my mom. I honestly think if it were anyone else, I might skirt the NDA and figure out a way to tell her.
But I promised Emmett I wouldn’t. And over the past week, he hasn’t done a single thing to make me believe he doesn’t deserve at least a sliver of my loyalty. I want to respect his wishes.
I’m not at all obsessed with him like the girls on the show appear to be when filming their B-roll interviews. But I would be lying to myself if I couldn’t admit that beneath the obnoxiously flirtatious and overly confident exterior that Emmett Brandt is infamous for, there’s a streak of sensitivity—hell, even a virtuousness—that I never expected.
Much like this job, I recognize Emmett is also not perfect. Not all good and not all bad. But certainly a lot kinder than I thought he would be.
Which must be why I take a sip of my tea, look my mom in the eye, and wave her off with a casual flick of my hand before lying to her. “I can’t tell you. But you wouldn’t know him anyway.”
“Bah.” She flops back against the cushions in defeat. “I told Theo you’d never tell me.”
My head tilts. “Theo?”
My mom laughs. “You know how he is. He wants to know everything. That man is like a town crier at the local hairdresser, spreading gossip, digging around for secrets, putting his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
I can’t help but laugh, imagining my brother under a hood dryer at Emerald Lake’s oldest salon, chatting with little white-haired ladies who’ve traded gossip in this valley for the past seventy-plus years.
Knowing him, he’d have a grand ol’ time and win every one of them over within an hour. He is charm personified.
“I can envision that a little too clearly.”
She chuckles her agreement. “Same. Speaking of… he, Winter, and the kids are coming to spend some time here in a couple of weeks. We can do a bunch of activities all together if your schedule works for it. Gonna make all my grandma dreams come true.”
“Oh fun! Definitely keep me posted!”
It comes out just a little too brightly, and I catch a weird look from my mom. But I can never tell if she’s not-so-subtly hinting at me when she waxes poetic about being a grandmother.
There’s this part of me that feels like… I don’t know. Like I’m coming up short compared to Theo. He’s vivacious. He’s living life to the fullest. He’s got kids. A wife.
He’s got all the things I feel like I’m supposed to have—things I probably do want. But I keep moving the goalposts on myself for when I’m allowed to make room for them.
When I finish my degree. Once I complete my master’s. As soon as I get this job down on my résumé. Not until I have a secure career.
It almost makes me wonder if I’m avoiding those aspects of life on purpose.
“Well, consider this your first heads-up—he’s far too excited about getting the details on this dating show. You might want to carry a copy of that NDA in your purse to protect yourself against his grand inquisition.”
My stomach flips. Not because I’m nervous to see my brother. Hell, I really do love it when he and his family visit. No, my stomach flips over because I hate the prospect of lying to him too.
I hate dancing around the truth with my mom, but she’s not going to lean into me the same way that my brother will.
I shrug and do my best to take an unaffected sip of my peppermint tea. “Well, Theo can ask me all he wants. I’m used to his antics.”
But the prospect still leaves me unsettled, because I can’t figure out why I am so fiercely determined to protect Emmett’s privacy.
Even through the dim cast of crackling firelight, I can tell that Emmett looks miserable. I set the pit near where he and Brad stand to add to the rustic vibe of the space, but I barely notice it now.
“Emmett,” Brad starts, his smooth, deep voice filling the space. “You have three women before you. Three women who want nothing more than to see where this goes.”
Good lord. Nothing more? I’d like a word with the man they have writing these scripts.
Brad doesn’t seem to find the wording as cringeworthy as I do. He carries on, eyes shining with sincerity, as if this is the most profound decision of Emmett’s life. He squeezes his shoulder in a show of faux support. “Unfortunately, you only have one bolo tie remaining. Which means you’ll need to say farewell to two of these incredible women.”
Rather than roses, each woman receives a bolo tie along with a request for her to stay and continue to “see where this goes.”
To his credit, Emmett makes a show of looking torn over the decision. His shoulders are held stiffly while his calloused fingers fiddle with the thin rope of the final bolo tie in his grip.
Evelyn, Madeline, and Cynthia stand across from Emmett and Brad in the courtyard area next to the bunkhouse with expectant looks on their faces. The setting is perfect.
Large white candles set atop gnarled stumps illuminate their side of the set, and the stars sparkle above us in the clear night sky. It’s idyllic—or at least the set is. I’m brimming with pride as I take in the first elimination ceremony. Reality shows like this aren’t necessarily where I want to end up long term, but damn if this won’t look good on TV and my résumé.
“You have all spent a fun-filled week together,” Brad says, gesturing between parties from his place next to Emmett. “But all good things must come to an end, and in the search for love, it’s important to be as honest and true to yourself as you can be. Isn’t that right, Emmett?”
The search for love.
“Of course. This is an enormous decision,” Emmett echoes, and I hold back a scoff because it’s abundantly clear to almost every person on set that no one is finding love on this show. Especially not the way that Richard produces it.
It’s a strange experience, watching someone make a supposed monumental decision while pretending there isn’t an entire crew on the sidelines watching, filming, and—let’s be honest—judging.
The tendon near Emmett’s jawline flexes as his gaze drops to his hands. Hands that were on me mere days ago. Firm and gentle and capable all at once. His touch has haunted me all week, but I’ve chalked it up to the fact that I haven’t let a man lay a hand on me in over two years.