7. 7
T he sky through the windows is painted in the first morning rays of light as I look over framed pictures of all the different women, their names on plaques. My eyes burn with exhaustion and my stomach sings out my desperate hunger as I look from picture to picture. Anastasia’s name plaque is missing from her frame, already in the yes pile. The memory of her snort followed immediately by her cursed surprise makes my face split in a grin once more.
Grabbing Mary Ella and Persephone’s names from their frames, I put them in the no pile. There is one woman I don’t remember talking to named Bethany K. While she looks nice, I can only take those who made an impression. I look at the pictures with remaining names and pick Scarlett’s, adding it to the elimination pile.
But all I can think of is Anastasia .
While falling definitely grabbed my attention, there’s a warmness about her that calls to me, as if I’m walking into the home I’ve always wanted.
The ones I want to keep are easy. Four or five of the women made lasting impressions. I didn’t think the hard part would be deciding who to eliminate. When I had signed up for the show, I knew I would just eliminate those I didn’t have a connection with. Did I think I would have a connection with everyone except the ones I needed to ask to leave at any given time? That would be a lot of women to be attracted to.
And it’s not that they aren’t attractive.
They are, as I knew they would be. The show isn’t exactly known for bringing on average looking contestants. What I didn’t anticipate is there would only be a handful I’d want to really continue with.
While I haven’t dated much, one thing I refused to ever do was lead someone on. Standing here in front of these pictures, I realize that’s exactly what I have to do.
The show will not allow me to go from twenty women to five in one night. What kind of season would that be? So I have to call out names of women I know I have no interest in.
Drew’s picture shows a pretty woman. One I’ve recognized from tabloids.
The actress has been making headlines for her over the top antics on set, as well as the affair she had with a married director. Having been in the spotlight a small amount after House of Deceit and having my continued relationship with Charlie scrutinized by, what feels like every news outlet in the country, I have a great amount of sympathy for her .
Charlie took on the brunt of the speculation around us, people saying she was sleeping with me behind Alec’s back. One of our favorite covers, that made us laugh for hours, said she was in a relationship with both of us. But they could never substantiate any of the claims, since they weren’t real.
I think about how it would feel to be Drew and thrust into the spotlight in that way again. The placard is heavy in my hand but I add her name to the pile of eliminations, wanting to protect her from the scrutiny this show could bring.
“I’m finished,” I tell the cameras sitting in the room, recording my deliberation for the audience. Production assistants swoop in, making note of the names in the pile, and they begin directing me on what will happen next.
The ladies’ voices flow to the hallway I’m standing in waiting for my cue. Jacob Jacobson talks to them, explaining how the ceremony will go, something he’ll do before every elimination. As if anyone in this house will forget.
“And now, ladies, please welcome Parker.” Jacob turns toward me and I move from my hiding spot.
A forced smile is on my face. My hair rests against my neck. With all the lights, cameras, and people in the room, I wish for what feels like the hundredth time I could put it up. I take my mark next to Jacob and put my hands behind my back.
“Hi, again, ladies,” I say, and a few of them swoon. A little intense reaction for the situation, but I’m sure the cameras picked them up well. “I want you all to know this was a really hard decision and even if you get sent home tonight, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you are all able to find the flame of your desire, even if it’s not me. ”
Production moves around us, signaling when we need to take a pause. Luckily, they seem to have what they need for this shot and we are ready to go.
A podium is brought out to me with a single lit candle on it.
“Ladies, if you don’t receive a candle tonight, you will be eliminated,” Jacob says, his smile perfectly in place like the sun is not about to crest the horizon outside. “Parker,” he says, indicating I should start.
Anastasia stands in the crowd, holding the only lit candle. There seems to be a slight gap between her and the rest of the girls, and I feel bad for putting a target on her with my attention this evening.
I take the first candle from the basket next to me and light it from my candle. Staring out at the ladies, I take a breath.
“Carmen,” I say, and the statuesque woman gives me a demure smile and comes to stand in front of me. Her caring nature intrigues me, and the thought of spending more time with her is exciting. The feel of the cameras on us pulls me from my thoughts. “Carmen, will you accept this spark of my desire?”
She smiles at me and it does something in my chest. “It’d be my pleasure,” she says, taking the candle from my hand before returning to her spot in the lineup.
Grabbing another candle, I repeat the process of lighting it.
“Aisha,” I call out. A woman with black hair cut to her chin steps out of the crowd. Her physique reminds me of a dedicated yoga instructor. “Aisha, will you accept this spark of my desire?” I ask once she's standing in front of me. Her smile is much smaller than Carmen’s was. Shy, almost. But it’s endearing.
“I’d love to,” she whispers so quietly I barely hear it. My hand reaches out to offer her the lit candle, but production stops us .
“Wait! You need to speak up. Let’s take it again from you asking her, Parker,” the faceless guy from the wings says.
“Aisha, will you accept this spark of my desire?” I repeat, hoping my face doesn’t show any annoyance from having to repeat myself.
“I’d love to,” Aisha replies, this time loud enough to be heard. Production allows her to go back to her position in the group and I grab up another candle.
Woman after woman presents themselves to me and I ask each one if they would like to be the spark of my desire until, finally, I’m at the last candle. Before I can grab the candle, Jacob Jacobson steps up, as expected, and addresses the ladies once more.
“Parker, ladies, this is the last candle of the night.” He melts back into the shadows and I grab the candle, lighting it.
“Mia,” I say and the tall, blonde, California girl with beautiful hazel eyes walks forward. She comes up to my shoulders. Not short, but not tall. “Mia, will you accept the spark of my desire?”
“I’d like nothing more,” she says before stepping forward. Instead of grabbing the candle, she grabs my face, pulling my lips down to hers.
The kiss is nice, if not a little aggressive. Taken aback, my eyes stay open and I am able to see the outrage on some of the other women. But it’s the slight look of hurt on Anastasia’s face that makes me pull back.
Clearing my throat, I hand her the candle without further comment. Jacob steps forward once more and brings the elimination ceremony to a close.
“Ladies, if you have not received a candle tonight, you will not be continuing on in the House of Desire . Please say your goodbyes. ”
All the women are broken from their stances they’ve held for the better part of an hour and start mingling. Mary Ella walks up to me, her arms outstretched for a hug, which I give her.
“This is going to be a fun season, I can already tell. Beware that some of them might be pretending, Parker. Presenting only the most perfect version of themselves in front of the cameras can be overwhelming as we know,” she whispers into my ear. I give her a kiss on the cheek in thanks.
“It was great seeing you. When I get out of here, maybe we should organize a House of Deceit reunion.”
“I’ll text Charlie when I get home,” she says, waving as she steps away. Production leads her through the house, but my attention is quickly grabbed by another woman.
Persephone’s anger is written in every line of her face and body.
“Well, Parker. I’m glad you eliminated me because if you didn’t I would have removed myself. I just don’t think you’ll be able to keep up with me. I require quite a lot from my paramours. Plus, you just seem so bland,” she says, looking at her nails, a haughty smirk on her face.
I know she’s lashing out from embarrassment. No one ever wants to go home on the first night, but that doesn’t matter to my brain.
Brittany’s voice comes back into my head, just like it did when I was speaking with Persephone earlier, and I don’t regret sending her home, no matter how much of a catch she probably is.
“I’m glad it worked out the way you wanted it to, then.” I stick my hands in my pockets, unsure of what I should do with them. She moves past me, shoving her shoulder into mine roughly and I smile at the childish display. Maybe she wasn’t as much of a catch as I thought she was .
It’s finally just the women I kept and me. For the final shot, everyone has a drink. Holding my glass in the air, I address them all.
“I can’t wait to deepen my connections with all of you. Lucky doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about having the chance to get to know all of you amazing women. This is going to be the season they talk about for years to come. Here’s to House of Desire .” We all clink our glasses and the ladies cheer. Some take sips, others just stand there.
The second the cameras get their shot, a member of production bleeds from the shadows.
“Cut! Great job everyone,” they say.
My assistant, Philip, magically appears at my elbow.
“Parker, your suite is in the pool house. I will take you there now. Ladies, if you’ll follow Sam”—Philip indicates a man standing off to the side of the room—“he’ll show you to your rooms.”
The women begin shuffling around while I follow Philip out the back door. I wish I had a chance to talk to Anastasia more, but exhaustion slams into me like a linebacker and I can barely keep my eyes open. A hand at my elbow guides me around the pool, the first vestiges of dawn on the horizon.
“You won’t have anything to film today, so sleep as long as you want because tomorrow, the real fun begins,” Philip says. Words fail me, all my energy focused on putting one foot in front of the other, the air like molasses around me, making my movements sluggish.
He unlocks the pool house for me and flips on the lights. He tries to take me on a short tour but I ignore him, making a mental note to apologize for my rudeness later when I go straight down the only hallway to where the bedroom must reside. Kicking off my shoes, I flop down on the bed, asleep before my face hits the pillow.