Chapter 8
AMARA
Mila was over early in the morning to do my hair and makeup. We kept my natural curls, only adding a small amount of makeup to my face. “We don’t want to erase you,” she had said.
And I appreciate it.
I was told that the crew would be here around two in the afternoon, and that we would be shooting well into the night. Mila and I spent the rest of the morning cleaning up my place.
The vacuum lines lingering on the pink carpet under my feet do something to calm my nerves.
The books lining the wall shelves bring me a comfort I’ve never really felt before, and I just feel lucky that I’m able to do this at home, where I feel like myself.
Where I don’t feel like I have to be someone else.
This whole situation is overwhelming—soon, interviews will determine who I marry in a few weeks.
Marriage.
My heart starts to sink. What’s going to happen to my place?
A solid mass of fur brushes up against my leg, and I smile.
“Well, Mr. Fluffernutter, things are about to change around here.”
“Mrrrrow,” he purrs.
I bend down to pick his massive body off the ground. His white hair covers my face, and I bury it in the fluff.
“You want a dad?”
He gags, his rancid fish breath hitting me straight on.
“Okay, well, sometimes we don’t get a decision in life.” I put him down and move some plants around until I’m happy with them.
The mid-day sun casts an incandescent glow onto my walls, the pink of my apartment only adding to the luminous warmth.
My buzzer rings, and I head out to let everyone in.
The gaffer is the first to get here. He greets me with a smile, and I lead him through the brick entrance before entering my apartment. He immediately gets to work setting up the lighting.
I grab Fluffernutter and place him in the bathroom of my bedroom with no less than five kisses before closing the door. He regards me with what I can only describe as the most evil side-eye I’ve ever seen.
It doesn’t take long for them to finish setting up, and sometime around four, a woman shows up at my doorstep with two more people.
She extends her hand, her brown hair falling around her shoulders. “Hi, Amara! My name is Lindsey Wells, and I’m a producer assigned to you. This is Joanna and Dylan Day, they’re the experts here to interview you!”
I smile warmly in an attempt not to let my nerves get to me. “It’s so nice to meet you both!” I say with a smile as I extend my hand.
“Likewise,” Joanna smiles. It’s warm, but there’s something under it that I can’t quite pinpoint just yet. Something that doesn’t exactly keep me calm.
I show them in and sit on the couch.
Production had moved two of my statement chairs in front of my TV stand, where Joanna and Dylan sit. They’re whispering to each other as I sit down, smoothing my dress. It’s about ten more minutes before cameras start rolling.
They get right into it.
It starts off simple. How was your family life?
Where did you grow up? The further they get into the questions, the more red flags get waved in my head.
The two of them keep looking at each other, their eyes bright, but not in a way that makes me believe they’re happy, wonderful people who want me to feel safe.
More like sharks that see chum in the water and know they’re about to have a feast.
“What would you say was the most challenging part of moving here from your hometown?” Joanna asks.
I consider the question for a second, picking at my nails.
Obviously, I know the answer to that, but it’s not something I really want to get into, and especially not on camera.
There are people who don’t know. Important people that I’m going to have to sit down and explain things to.
Things that will only result in them digging into my past, and that’s not something I really want to deal with at the moment. Or ever.
“Just starting over,” I shrug. “I had one connection here, and she introduced me to my best friends. We’re all still really close to this day.”
“And who are they?” Dylan asks.
“Well, there’s Mila, who’s probably the most normal of all of us, Isla, who’s an artist, and Heidi, who’s a really badass photographer.”
“You all have creative jobs, that’s cool.”
I nod. “Yeah. We all took art classes together in high school. I’m the least artsy out of all of them, but I love planning events. I was also bartending for a while. I really loved that.”
“That’s really cool. Are they part of the reason why you wanted to do this?”
“If you’re asking me if one of them put me up to this, that’s an overwhelming yes,” I chuckle. “They’re all in happy relationships.” I smirk, rolling my eyes as I add, “And all somehow with football players.”
The two shoot each other a glance. “That’s crazy. How do you feel about that?”
I hate it, I want to say. I’m happy for them, but I’m so damn tired of having to ignore Cooper.
“I love it for them. They’re great guys.”
Joanna stares at me. All I can hear is the slight buzz of the cameras, and suddenly the room feels ten times hotter, the warm vanilla scent coming from my candles making the air thick.
“I’m not much of a football fan,” I say stiltedly.
She purses her lips and, with a deep breath, continues down her list of questions.
Yes, I love burgers.
Yes, I really love the beach. Why wouldn’t I? I grew up there.
I love Maryland.
I’ve always wanted to get married, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted in a man. Mostly because the person I always thought I would end up with isn’t an option at all. Figuring out what I like in a man would require me to date.
No, there is no one I have feelings for at the moment.
I’m totally ready for a committed relationship. I think letting professionals pair me with someone is probably better than letting me figure it out myself.
When they’re finally done asking me the hard questions, they start asking me questions about what I’d want for my wedding. “Does this have anything to do with finding a partner?”
Dylan shrugs. “We ask all the women. Sometimes you can learn a lot about people by what they picture for their wedding.”
I guess that makes sense.
“Where do you want to have it?” they ask.
“In a garden, I think. I haven’t thought about it much, to be honest. I’m not someone who has pictured their wedding since they were a kid, and I wish I were. I think I’d be okay with anything.”
“What song would you walk down the aisle to?”
I smile. This is one of the questions I definitely know the answer to. “Yours Forever by Lucy May,” I tell them. “It’s the one thing I’ve always known I’ve wanted.”
I won’t let anyone ruin it for me.