Chapter Nine
Alexis was absolutely not concentrating on Birdie’s knee, which was almost touching hers.
Instead, she was focused on the wheel of chèvre softening in the sun, on the pile of glossy olives glistening with rosemary sprigs, the thin grissini breadsticks in a tall glass bowl, the tapenade nobody touched, and on the bottle of rosé sweating against the gingham cloth.
“You can’t miss the bouchons in Lyon,” Bianca said, popping an olive in her mouth. “They’re basically a religion there.”
“I won’t have time to go to Lyon if you want me to visit the French Riviera,” Louise said, sounding far too exasperated for discussing an upcoming holiday.
Bianca was helping her with the itinerary, though Louise seemed more frustrated than anything.
“Remember, I only get one week of vacation time.”
“Well then, you must try Strasbourg, at least,” Bianca replied. She grabbed a breadstick and ran the tip through the soft chèvre. “It has half-timbered houses, winstubs, the works.”
“Where the hell is that?” Louise stammered, brows squeezed tight together.
“Eastern side of France,” Alexis chirped, too quickly, but only because she needed to do something other than think about Birdie and about that damn knee that was so close.
She only knew the answer because it had been a question on some game show that she’d half watched one evening when she couldn’t sleep.
“So you’ve been?” Bianca asked, turning those bright blue eyes on her. She didn’t give Alexis a chance to answer no, I haven’t yet before adding, “Isn’t it beautiful? The canals, the cathedral, the Christmas markets.”
Alexis nodded.
Bianca let out a melancholic sigh and stretched out her legs.
She dipped her head back until the sun washed over her face, and then she closed her eyes.
In her mind, she was probably somewhere else entirely.
Which was why Alexis found herself catching Birdie’s eye.
Not because she wanted to look at Birdie—or maybe she did—but because she wanted to share her amusement with someone, and Louise, who seemed a little too flustered, was focusing extra hard on smearing olive tapenade onto the last of the breadsticks.
Birdie smiled.
Alexis smiled back.
And then she realized what she was doing and quickly snapped her head back to her wineglass and stared at the condensation sliding down the stem. Her chest was uncomfortably tight, and her cheeks were beginning to turn pink.
“Where are you from, by the way? I don’t think I’ve asked before,” Louise asked suddenly, her voice muffled around the bread. She swallowed the last bite of tapenade-smeared grissini and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes stayed fixed on Alexis.
“Portland,” Alexis replied. She wasn’t from anywhere fancy like New York or L.A., but it had been home since she had graduated from the University of Oregon and moved closer to her childhood home. Her parents still lived in Cannon Beach.
Bianca jerked her head up, eyes bright. “Oh, I love Portland.”
“You mean you love the endless gray skies and the rain that constantly mists you into depression,” Birdie said with her brows squeezed tight as she flicked a crumb from her lap.
Alexis huffed out a laugh before she could help herself. “It’s not that bad. People make it sound like we’re living under a permanent rain cloud.”
“It’s not so much the rain,” Birdie countered. “It’s the fact that the sky is overcast like two hundred and fifty days of the year. Have you never heard of seasonal depression?”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“It’s not.”
Alexis shook her head and tore a piece from the baguette that one of the assistants had just deposited onto the board, now that the grissini was gone.
“Well, at least it keeps things green. Trees. Mountains. Gardens. Would you rather be living in a desert?” She huffed a breath.
“Why do you even live there if you’re just going to complain about the weather? ”
Birdie snagged a glassy olive from the bowl, but she didn’t pop it into her mouth. Not yet anyway. “I never would’ve pegged you for someone who likes miserable weather. You seem more like…” She let the words trail off and sit there in the air between them.
Alexis’s fingertips whitened on her glass. “Like what?” she said, her voice sharper than she intended. But maybe not sharp enough, because Birdie was looking at her like she knew her, and she most certainly did not.
Birdie shrugged. “Like someone who needs sun to function, I guess. Like someone who should be living in California or somewhere…” She flourished a hand vaguely. “Right here. Provence suits you.”
Alexis didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected that. And she was just about to ask what that meant, because really, why would Birdie say something like that?
But then Bianca leaned forward, circling her arms around her knees, and frowned. “Wait,” she said, looking at Birdie. “You live in Portland too?”
Birdie’s mouth opened and closed.
Alexis felt her chest twist in panic.
And then Louise scrunched her nose, and Alexis could feel the inevitable question coming of how Alexis even knew Birdie lived in Portland. But before she could open her mouth, Vivian stepped out from between two rows of vines.
“Alright, ladies! I’m afraid our little Provencal picnic has come to an end,” she called.
Bianca groaned, “Already?”
“Yes, already,” Vivian said with a cheerful finality that brokered no argument. “You’ll be heading back to the villa to meet the rest of the group.” She smiled that host-smile of hers and added, “There’s a surprise waiting for everyone by the pool.”
Both Bianca and Louise perked up. Out of the corner of Alexis’s eye, she could see Birdie had not.
Or more so, she still looked exactly the same as before, like she was walking on eggshells, too scared to step wrong again.
Because yes, bringing up Portland weather was most certainly the wrong thing in case Alexis was going to send her home right then and there.
Which Alexis wanted to.
Which she was probably going to do at the next lavender ceremony.
“Come on, girls,” Vivian called when none of them had bothered to get off the picnic mat. “We don’t have all day.”
~~
Alexis already had a vague idea of what was coming before she stepped off the deck leading to the pool terrace. The last season of The Sapphic Match had volleyball as one of the surprise dates, and she half-expected something equally humiliating.
“Our viewers have spoken,” Vivian called, striding to the center of the terrace where all the contestants were standing ready to receive the surprise. “They’ve decided your next challenge is a poolside relay to win Alexis’s heart.”
Everyone clapped, some more excitedly than others, which Alexis knew was mostly for the cameras. Because honestly, grown women did not like to play frivolous games to win anyone’s heart.
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” Vivian said smoothly.
“Each station earns points. The contestant with the most points at the end gets to go on a one-on-one date with Alexis.” She gestured to the gaudy obstacle line that production had cobbled together.
“Station one: balance beam dash. Cross the beam without falling, grab a heart-shaped pillow and sprint back. Station two: water balloon toss to pop the floating targets.” She gestured again, this time toward the bobbing inflatables shaped like arrows and hearts.
“And finally, station three: a quick trivia challenge about our bachelorette. I hope you ladies studied the notes we handed out earlier.”
Alexis suppressed a small groan. So that was what that was for. She hadn’t realized the mortifying Q&A she’d filled out a week ago with questions like What’s your ideal date, your favorite food, etc., had been turned into a trivia quiz.
“And remember,” Vivian went on, glancing smoothly in Alexis’s direction like they were in on a secret together, which they weren’t. “Our bachelorette will be watching each of you closely, so let’s make sure you put your best heel forward.”
Alexis watched as the contestants lined up about fifty yards from the pool’s edge.
They faced a balance beam that stretched across the glittering blue water, narrow enough that Alexis was already imagining the production team scrambling for liability waivers.
Not that a little risk of injury would stop an activity like this.
Her gaze drifted before she could stop herself.
She caught Birdie’s eye. And in that moment she remembered the heat from Birdie’s fingers on her inner thigh, that Dolce Gabbana scent she had smelled on her skin back in that hotel in Portland.
The thought was so real, so big, so in her face that Alexis snapped her head away.
She turned so fast her neck twinged. And then her gaze landed right in Kinley’s line of sight, who, of course, chose that exact moment to wink at her.
Alexis managed a smile back before she focused on the task at hand as an enthusiastic bachelorette ready to cheer on the contestants.
“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” Alexis called, pitching her voice with just the right amount of fake enthusiasm.
“We all like a little healthy competition!” Bianca called back, looking Alexis’s way.
“I don’t know if I told you this yet, Lex, but I was an Olympic athlete.
” The nickname was not missed. “High jump.” She pointed to her ankle, where Alexis now noticed the ink of five interlocked Olympic rings.
“But don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on everyone. ”
Several of the contestants behind her exchanged looks.
They rolled eyes and forced tight smiles.
Nina, the woman with a head of blonde corkscrew curls, muttered something under her breath.
Alexis didn’t blame them. Bianca did look like a natural athlete, and two of the activities required a bit of athletic ability.
“LET’S GO!” Vivian shouted into a bullhorn that was pressed to her lips as if her voice alone wasn’t enough. She punctuated it with an air horn blast that made Alexis, who was standing close, flinch.
As expected, Bianca was the first to surge forward, her long legs eating the space between the start line and the pool.
She hit the beam first and put her arms out for balance.
Lyra was next, teetering at the start but somehow managing to stay upright.
Then came Claire, who gasped as she stepped onto the beam, slipped, and fell straight into the pool.
Birdie was slower. Deliberate. Not exactly a sportswoman, but Alexis had never thought she was anyway.
For some reason, Alexis’s stomach twisted, not because she cared who won, but because a part of her wanted Birdie to fall into the water. She wanted to see her break the surface, dripping wet, her wrap dress plastered to her skin, her curves outlined in the clingy cotton, and her hair slicked back.
And she hated that part of her internal vision.
“GO GIRLS!” Alexis yelled, clapping so hard her palms stung.
She hoped that the mere act of cheering would shove the thought away.
But it didn’t. In fact, it intensified it.
All she could think about was a wet, naked Birdie emerging from the water, walking toward her in slow motion, breasts bouncing, eyes locked.
She cleared her throat and focused on the women already moving onto the second station.
It went about as well as expected. Half of the contestants missed their water balloon targets entirely.
Lyra somehow nailed three in a row like she’d been practicing for weeks, and Danielle managed to hit Vivian in the thigh instead of the target.
At least Vivian, whose outfit was soaked, remained civil about it, overly so.
Alexis wasn’t even sure if Birdie had hit any targets because she forced her attention to Bianca, who was swearing under her breath when her Olympic skills appeared irrelevant in a game of water balloon toss.
By the trivia round, the energy was high and the nerves even higher.
Isabelle blanked on Alexis’s middle name.
Ironically, her middle name was Isabelle.
Nina guessed wrong about her favorite pizza toppings, and Louise correctly answered every question except the year Alexis had graduated from college.
As for Birdie, Alexis hadn’t let herself listen to her answers. She hadn’t trusted herself to.
When it was finally done, Vivian gathered the contestants together and said, “Well done, ladies. But there can only be one winner, and that is…” She drew out the moment, drumming her palms against her thighs. “Lyra!! Well done. You win a sunset date with our bachelorette.”
Lyra threw her hands up triumphantly, and Alexis pasted on her brightest, most camera-ready smile that completely overshadowed what she was actually feeling. Confusion.
Because some part of her, the part that clearly wanted to ruin her life, had secretly been hoping Birdie would win.