If you apply for the show, I’ll apply for college.
It was that last one that had sunk him.
Becks had just finished up her senior year in high school and wanted a gap year before heading to college. Which was fine by Sam, except Becks’s idea of a gap year was backpacking through Europe, courtesy of her trust fund. Luckily, the old man had put Sam in charge of Becks’s inheritance until she turned twenty-one. Sam wasn’t opposed to Becks waiting a year to go to college, but if that was the case, she’d either spend the year working or pay her own way through Europe.
Teaching his baby sister the value of a hard-earned dollar was just one of the familial duties Sam had inherited when his father had succumbed to a three-year battle with lung cancer. That, and keeping the family business afloat. The latter was a piece of cake. Thanks to a well-structured company, the business practically ran itself. But helping his mother parent a teenage girl? Yeah, not so easy.
So Sam had taken Becks up on her deal. She had applied to colleges, and Sam had applied to the show. And now here he was, sweating in front of a camera while America sat back in their recliners, eating popcorn and watching him stumble through the most awkward conversation of his life.
“How old is your sister?” asked Hannah.
“She just turned eighteen.”
“That’s a bit of an age difference, isn’t it? You’re, what …?”
“Thirty-five,” he said.
After an excruciating five more minutes of conversation that felt more like an hour, the guy in the duck suit waddled up to the couch. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal this beautiful lady from you?”
Hannah giggled and batted her eyelashes up at the Duck. “You’re just so cute!” She turned to Sam. “Do you mind?”
Mind? Hell, no. Sam had never been so happy to see a guy dressed in feathers in his life. “Of course not.”
“I’ll never forget our talk, Sam. Thank you so much.” Hannah hugged him, then stood and wrapped one arm around the Duck’s wing as the two of them walked toward the patio. The camera crew scrambled to follow them, leaving Sam blissfully alone on the couch.
His privacy was short-lived. A couple of minutes later, a guy wearing the prerequisite suit and dress shoes, minus the socks, plopped down next to him. “Sam, right?”
“Yep. And you’re Dave.” Dave was one of the bachelors Sam hadn’t had a chance to interact with, but he’d already gotten a good take on the guy just by keeping an open ear. He was an internet marketer from somewhere in the northeast, but he planned to move to California after the show was done filming so he could pursue an acting career. He’d also heard from one of the other guys that Dave had a serious girlfriend back home.
“Can you believe the guy in the duck suit?” Dave laughed. “Man, I wish I’d had the guts to do that.”
“Seriously?”
“You must not watch the show. That duck is pretty much guaranteed a rose tonight.” Dave took a swig of his drink. “So, how’d it go with Hannah? She’s terrific, isn’t she? Did you get a load of those tits? They’re not real, but who cares?”
He ignored the crude remark. “It went okay.”
“Did you kiss her?”
“I just met her.”
“What’s that got to do with it? There are twenty-four other guys here all looking to get the final rose. You gotta stand out. Otherwise you’ll be going home tonight, and you won’t even get a limo interview.”
“Isn’t that when the producers try to make you say something stupid on your way out?”
“Yeah, but the limo interview is what makes America feel sorry for you. The longer you last on this show and the more brutal your breakup, the better chance you have of getting your own show.” He lowered his voice. “I’m only here because I want a shot at being the next Single Guy.”
“Yeah? Well, good luck with that.”
Dave snorted. “Don’t tell me you came on this show to find true love? Do you know how much dough you can make peddling sunglasses on Instagram? Dude, you do not want to go home tonight. The guys that go home on the first night are total losers. No one from the franchise invites them to any of the good parties. If you can last three, or better yet, four shows, you’re a shoo-in for the reunion special, and that, my friend, opens all the doors, if you know what I mean.”
“Not really.”
“Unlimited ass. Every girl in America is gonna want in your pants. And that’s just the beginning of the perks.”
Before Sam could respond, Dave turned his attention to a nearby alcove, where the Duck was being interviewed by a producer. “I need to find out what that’s about.” He drained the rest of his drink. “Best of luck, my friend.” He slapped Sam on the back and went off to investigate.
What a douchebag. It was guys like Dave that gave men a bad name.
Without anything concrete to do, Sam found his way back to the kitchen and ate a sandwich. He talked to Cal, a financial consultant who offered him some general advice on the stock market, none of which Sam planned to take. He wandered toward the bar, got another Maker’s Mark and made some small talk with a few of the other guys.
From across the room, he watched as Hannah talked to two men (an attorney and the ex-NFL player), flirting and giggling with a lot more enthusiasm than she’d shown during her one-on-one with him. Maybe he should try to talk to her again. Not because he was interested. A ten-minute conversation with Hannah was more than enough to figure out that the two of them had zero chemistry. But Mom and Becks would be disappointed if he was sent home on the first night.
All he had to do was make it through this one elimination ceremony. There were twenty-five guys and twenty roses to give out. Not bad odds. He just wish he felt more confident about it.
2
That same night. Old Explorer’s Bay, Florida
Annie Esposito parked her car in the driveway of her family home and reached around to the backseat for her tote. Latest Jodi Picoult novel: check. Veggie tray: check. Updated copies of this year’s book club reading schedule, organized by month and genre: check.
Tonight, her mother was hosting their monthly book club meeting, and it was Annie’s turn to lead the discussion. The book club consisted of just four women: Annie; her mother, Carol; Mom’s best friend, Millie Parrish; and Charlotte Winslow Cooper, who owned the local bookstore. Occasionally, Annie’s cousin Sophie would join the mix, but Sophie was a nurse practitioner who worked for the only doctor in town, which meant her work schedule made her unreliable.
Being the only millennial in a group of baby boomers wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Annie had tried a couple of book clubs with women her own age, but all they really wanted to talk about was who was getting married or who was pregnant or what brand of disposable diapers was in vogue. None of which interested her. It was great being in a book club with mature, like-minded women like her mother and Millie and Charlotte. Women who wanted to discuss serious books and expand their minds.
Balancing the veggie tray with her overstuffed tote, she opened the door to the kitchen. No matter how many times she walked through this door, she was always hit with a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The same one she got when eating one of her mother’s famous chocolate chip cookies. Not that Annie should be eating chocolate chip cookies. She was on a mission to lose the same ten pounds she’d been trying to lose since grad school, hence the veggie tray she’d brought for tonight’s meeting.