4. 4
R egret has been a constant thorn in my side over the past five and a half months as I’ve gotten ready for my time on House of Desire . My days become constantly filled with meetings, fittings, and filming for commercials and other various spots, causing the regret to crystallize more and more. I can almost see it walking through my house like a ghostly shadow.
Why would I go from not dating anyone to dating twenty women? I must have had a stroke. That’s the only explanation.
“I don’t understand why you’re packing. You’re the principle of the show. Alec said they have a whole wardrobe for you,” Charlie says, laying on my crisp white bedding while flipping through the edits on her book that her agent sent her. After the raging success of her story based on our time in the mansion, Charlie finally picked up her novel again and finished it.
“Who wants to wear underwear someone else bought for them?” I ask her, shoving said underwear into the bag in my hand. The bottles of cologne on the top of my walnut dresser clink together as I shut the drawer with my hip. I pull open my sock drawer and begin shoving them into my bag without any regard for order.
She looks up at me, tapping her pen on her chin.
“You might just have a point there. Did I ever tell you that you won me a hundred dollars by agreeing to do this?”
“A few times.” I smile over at her. “Is Courtney still pissed?”
“She’ll get over it,” she says, making a note on the page she’s looking at.
“Why did I do this again?” I ask her, zipping up my bag.
She must hear something in my tone because she sits up and puts a cap on the pen, moving her book off to the side. I drop my bag and turn to lean against my dresser.
“Because you deserve to have someone love you and love them in return,” she tells me, her sapphire blue eyes earnest.
“I did have someone, though. Do you think we only get one shot at this thing? Maybe I used my chance up on someone who,”—I struggle to find the words without spilling my entire sob story—“didn’t want me, in the end.”
Dating experience is not something I have a lot of. And my brief foray into online dating when I returned from House of Deceit didn’t go well. As I would sit with girl after girl at dinner listening to their stories, my mind would turn back to the place that always wondered if Brittany and I were supposed to be together or if circumstance just pushed us together .
Charlie gets off the bed and moves over to me, wrapping her arms around my middle. My arms go around her automatically and I rest my head on top of hers, which is hard considering she’s taller than most women.
“You didn’t use up your chance, Parker.”
“Well, you did pick your wrangler over me, so I don’t know if that’s true,” I joke.
She pulls back from me and gently flicks me on the nose. “We weren’t really dating!” she says, fake outrage coating the exclamation.
“My heart didn’t know that!” I protest, grabbing my chest like I’m in pain and falling on the bed. “Call the paramedics. I think I’m dying of a broken heart.”
“You’re so dramatic, you oversized Viking man.” She falls onto the bed next to me, giggling.
I’m lucky to have Charlie as a friend.
Basically, everyone called me crazy when I came home and told them I wasn’t going to pursue Charlie in the real world. No matter what I said, they didn’t believe me that it was all for the show. Is she gorgeous? Absolutely. Was I attracted to her initially? Yes. I think most people were. But there was one day when we were talking on the sun bed when she mentioned Alec and I saw it. I saw the spark I felt when I first met Brittany. Back before she pulverized my heart into such small pieces you’d need a microscope to see them.
Which always seemed amazing to me. The pieces were so small and yet the pain felt as though I was buried alive. Every time I would open my mouth to scream, the dirt would fall in, further suffocating me. Being in the mansion during filming was the first time it felt like the pressure was starting to ease .
“I’m going to miss you,” Charlie tells me, knocking me with her elbow.
“You know I’ll miss you, too.”
Jacob Jacobson sits in the makeup chair next to me, a man I never thought I’d see in person again. His perpetual tan makes him glow even though it’s May and the day is cold and rainy. My skin feels itchy in the unfamiliar routine. The pressure of day-to-day life fading away into a new pressure of picking the right person settles on my shoulders.
Rain splatters against the tent roof where we are getting ready before filming starts. The hairstylist stands behind me, trying to tame my hair into a more manageable mane, the humidity making their job harder.
“You can pull it back, if that’d make your life easier,” I tell the person after they have struggled for a good ten minutes.
“Unfortunately, they want it down for the first night. They feel like it will make you look more debonair,” they say. I can see the stylist’s trepidation, but I’m sure they are up to the task.
“I didn’t realize you were going to be the host this year, Jake,” I say, trying to make small talk with the man beside me.
“It was a last-minute change. The usual host was moved to a morning show for the duration of her pregnancy. She didn’t want to travel since she’s in her third trimester,” he says as the artist pats powder around his face. “Too bad about a few years ago. You would have been a phenomenal winner for Deceit .”
“Thanks. I’m glad it was Charlie, though, since it wasn’t me. ”
A production worker pokes their head into the tent, warning us there is only thirty minutes until we are needed.
It’s amazing how different this show feels than House of Deceit . With that show, once we were in the house, we never saw any production members except our assigned wranglers. But even before we made it to the house, the number of people we met from the show were minimal.
But with this one? There are all sorts of assistants rushing around for their given department. Not only that, but I’ll be living separately from the women in a pool house behind the mansion.
Desire also doesn’t have live eliminations. Nothing about this show is live due to the filming schedule. One week to the audience will only be five days to us. While intense, it allows for filming to only take nine weeks instead of twelve.
The schedule sounds grueling, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.
Once Alec confirmed I would be the new lead, I watched a few seasons of House of Desire to determine what I was in for in regard to the dates. Over the course of nine weeks, I will be dating twenty women who will be competing to be the flame of my desire. Their words, not mine. There will be group dates and competitions for solo dates. And many meals where we aren’t allowed to eat because no one looks attractive eating. And then, at the end of the week, I’ll send home one lady.
Tonight, I have to meet all twenty contestants, speak to everyone during what will probably end up being a ten-hour cocktail hour, and then I will send home five women. I’m not quite sure why I have to get rid of five people right off the bat, but this was a sticking point with the show. I suggested keeping the majority of the ladies until we hit week six and then kick seven people to the curb. By then, at least, it wouldn’t be a snap decision, allowing everyone to settle into the show and show their true colors.
But they wouldn’t hear of it.
Once my hair is complete, the stylist switches places with the makeup artist. She stands in front of me, her hand under my chin turning my face this way and that. I’ve long gotten used to the random touching from strangers before being on TV.
“You have a gorgeous bone structure,” she tells me before grabbing her brushes.
“Thank you. I worked hard chiseling it,” I joke.
She snorts as she gets down to work. We have five minutes before I’m needed in front of the camera, but she moves like Quicksilver and I know it’ll be no problem.
Jacob Jacobson leaves the tent as I stand, straightening my suit in the mirror. As I push through the flap, I notice the rain has let up, leaving the world clean and sparkling.
Unlike my time on Deceit , there are cameras and crew all over the set. Lights shine down where Jacob stands in front of the mansion, waiting for me. Sitting around the monitors, the show runner, Jane, sits with a gaggle of her helpers.
A production assistant walks up to me.
“The first limo is about to arrive. The women inside are Mary Ella, Persephone, Drew, Carmen, and Anastasia,” he tells me before quickly stepping out of frame. I try to hold the names in my mind, but they are like water through a sieve.
I stand on my mark, having been walked through what would happen tonight earlier in the day, as the first limo pulls up. My heart starts racing, nerves taking control. Until this very moment, I was unflappable. With the grind of getting Mitchel an assistant squared away to manage without me, filming the various promos, and fittings for wardrobe, I didn’t have time to really think about what I was doing. Now, weeks of preparation have given way.
But it’s too late to bow out now.
A member of production counts us down and Jacob Jacobson is cued in.
“Hello, everyone. Welcome to the first night of House of Desire where Parker will be looking for the woman who lights the flame of his desire.” He turns toward me, his smile welcoming and warm. “How are you feeling?”
“Nervous,” I tell him honestly, “but also excited. I could be meeting the woman of my dreams.” I make sure to hit the last point as I was directed, knowing they will extend the moment in post-production with prerecorded snippets of my background and what I’m looking for in a partner.
“Well, here comes the first group of women. Let’s see if one of these ladies is the one.”
He steps away from me as the limo comes creeping over the cobblestones, parking at a strategic angle. The driver gets out of the limo and moves to open the door for the first woman.
A tan, slender leg appears from the dark depths. The light catches the glittery red heel. It looks like Dorothy’s red slipper if it was a high heel. The woman emerges in a white dress that hugs every curve, the hem falling to the ground as she stands. Mary Ella sees me and the demure smile on her face turns into a giant grin.
Shock takes over before a smile lights on my face, matching hers.
“Parker!” she exclaims, her southern drawl pulling me back to the House of Deceit mansion and another first night of filming. Walking far quicker than I believe possible over the cobblestoned drive, before I can say a word, she’s in my arms, kissing my cheek with red lips that match her red shoes.
“Mary Ella, stunning, as always. Congratulations on being Miss Alabama,” I say, nodding to the sash running diagonally over her dress. “Charlie and I watched the pageant.”
“That’s so sweet of you to say! I’m so surprised to see you standing here. How have you been?” she asks, her sweet earnestness pulling at my heartstrings. The girl I knew three years ago has grown into a beautiful young woman.
I see the signal from the producer to wrap it up, but I take a moment more.
“We’ll catch up later, I promise. But it’s so good to see you. It looks like third time’s the charm, yeah?” I say, hinting at her multiple attempts to get on the show.
“It seems so. I’ll see you inside.” She hugs me again before striding into the mansion.
We take a moment to reset and the limo door is opened again.
The next woman looks like a twin of Gemma Chan from Crazy Rich Asians , a movie night favorite of mine and Charlie’s.
She moves toward me with sure steps. How these women move in these high heels will never cease to surprise me, while I’m simultaneously glad society has not deemed them a requirement for men.
I lean in to give her a quick hug, brushing a kiss on her cheek as I introduce myself.
“Hello, I’m Parker. Thank you for joining me on this journey.” The crew really emphasized the use of ‘journey’ instead of ‘show’ or ‘game’ .
“Parker, it’s a pleasure.” Her posh English accent makes me want to listen to her talk all evening. Ever since I was a kid watching any Julie Andrews movie with my mom, I've been obsessed with the accent. “My name is Carmen.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” I say, but then my mind goes black. I have two minutes with each woman as they come out of the limo. I didn’t expect this to be a difficult amount of time to fill, but here I am letting the silence stretch between us. “Tell me about yourself.”
The second the statement leaves my mouth, I want to kick my own ass. But like an angel, Carmen saves me.
“I’m a nurse at a hospital made specifically for children with cancer. It’s a cause that’s been very dear to my heart since my childhood best friend passed away from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.”
So, not just an angel for saving me, but a literal angel.
“Wow, that’s amazing. I’m so sorry about your friend, but what an amazing way to honor them.”
The two minutes are up quicker than I expect and Carmen is ushered into the mansion as I promise to catch up with her later. My time with Drew and Persephone goes smoother as my brain finally assists and regurgitates the list my assistant, Philip, provided of about fifty introduction questions I can ask.
Taking a deep breath, I settle in for the last woman in this limo. The door opens again and my mouth drops. Even in this group of stunning women, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen stands before me. Her dress is a vibrant crimson. The V-shaped neckline shows just a hint of cleavage causing my mouth to water. She runs her hands down her hips, adjusting the bodice of her dress.
With a smile that feels like the sun breaking through the clouds after a hurricane, she begins walking towards me. It feels like an eternity as I listen to her heels clack against the stones with each of her steps.
I scan down her body again and I see it. Her ankle turns and before I can do more than unclasp my hands, her entire body slams into the wet cobblestones, bringing her in a sprawling heap near my feet.