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I smile. I can tell she genuinely means it.
“I just lovelove, you know? And wouldn’t it be so romantic to be able to show your children one day, your whole love story recorded?” Her accent gets thicker the more excited she gets.
I want to make fun of her, but she seems genuinely excited.
I watch as she introduces herself to people around the room, complimenting them, making everyone feel better, keeping morale up.
I decide that if I’m going to put myself through this then I’m going to try and protect her. I just know these reality TV producers are going to try and pull all sorts of crap and from the brief time I’ve spent with her, she doesn’t deserve to get hurt.
If I stick with the Natalie and the Southern Belles then maybe I’ll be able to keep a low profile. They seem nice enough and less drama than most of the others will likely be.
I can hear people already making passive aggressive comments and see some of them smiling through gritted teeth. There’s the first-day politeness — aside from the influencers who went straight for it — but it’ll wear off just in time for the cameras, I’m sure.
What I’ve learned from Danielle forcing me to watch these shows over the years is that it’s less about romance and more about the drama between the women.
Although it dawns on me that I don’t know what they’ll be filming or if it will be focused primarily on the dating aspect. That’s where some of the reality shows differentiate.
Making my decision of which group I should try and fade into for me, Natalie drags me over to the Southern Belles and introduces me.
It’s a blur of Southern accents and names. They all make polite conversation and sympathize with me when I apologize for my appearance and regale them with the tale of my horrific journey here. Thankfully, the rest of the girls take over the conversation. I try my best to seem enthusiastic, but in my mind I’m trying to figure how I’m going to survive the next few weeks.
CHAPTER 4
AARON
Heat consumes every inch of my body. I’m standing on a beach on a ridiculously hot day in The Bahamas, and they’ve forced me to wear a suit.
I didn’t mind the flight over because at least I could get some work done on my jet, but now I’m surrounded by people expecting things from me, telling me where I need to be and what I need to do. It makes me want to scream.
I pace back and forth as I listen to another client voice their concerns about my recent fight with beloved NFL icon Callum Pierce. It’s been a PR nightmare, and one of the main reasons I agreed to do this mind-numbing show.
“Yes, I’ll wait.” They know I’ll wait because they have the upper hand now. I just know Karl is sitting in his office, smugly sipping his pretentious coffee, keeping me on hold for no reason.
Unlike him, I had to work hard for what I have, building my property empire from the ground up.
When you have to break through every barrier to get to where you are, it makes it hard to stand such entitlement.
I walk around the corner and hear someone crying. I stop behind a bush before I can be seen. I was under strict orders by my PR manager Tiffany to avoid seeing any of the women before filming; apparently that would ruin the magic.
Bymagic, Tiffany means the women they have rounded up like cattle and made to dress up and put on a persona to try and impress me. It’s ridiculous. I feel sorry for them. I feel sorry for anyone who is genuinely trying to find a relationship in this day and age. It’s all about what assets you have, whether it be money, fame, or power.
Maybe it was seeing my mother heartbroken and left to raise me by herself, but it seems like if you rely on people, they only let you down.
My gaze lands on the gorgeous dark-haired woman who’s hugging a beautiful blonde. I sigh. Maybe it’s not the worst thing to be around beautiful women, but I just don’t have the time. I need to be at my company, in the thick of it, just putting things back on track.
Call me a micromanager, but it’s how I got to where I am.
As Tiffany says, it’s just my personality that gets me in trouble.
I honestly don’t mind being called grumpy or a sourpuss. I get things done and that’s all that matters. I value hard work above all, and that’s why it sucks that my stupid mouth has undone so much of it.
I look at the women, intrigued.
“You’re gorgeous, he’s going to love you,” the brunette says. “Look at you! You’re smoking! Hell, I’ll date you if he doesn’t want to.”
The crying woman laughs and says something. I can’t quite make out her words, just her Southern accent.
I can’t help but stare at the other woman. She’s stunning, though in a more subtle way than the others. She seems kind. I wonder why would she want another contestant to win?
