Round Eight #2
“Excuse me?” Alana’s voice plays through the bookstore’s speakers, then the tap-tap-tap of a finger on a microphone follows.
She steps onto something… a table, perhaps, and when she’s stable, she flashes a wide grin.
“Hi! Welcome to Happily Ever After, and to Plainview’s flagship Magnolia Sava event.
I’m sure everyone knows I’m Alana, but we’re aiming for a fancy, formal vibe tonight, so I’ll go through the formalities anyway.
This is my co-host, Maggie Sava.” She gestures toward a blushing Maggie amid a hundred sheep and their enthusiastic applause.
Then she nods toward the front door. “My best friend, Fox Tatum, also helped us plan. And honorable mentions go to Eliza Darling, who mostly heckled the entire time, and Caroline Davis, who sends her apologies, but assures us she’ll happily host the next event.
Also, to my wonderful husband, Tommy Watkins,” her eyes lock onto his, “just because he’s cute and I love him so much. ”
Cue the collective “awwww”.
“I’ll pass the mic over to Maggie in a moment, but I just wanted to say hey, to thank you for coming, even those of you not actually interested in dating.
” She coughs out a not very well-veiled, “Thomas Watkins.” Then she adds, “And thank you for supporting Maggie’s business.
She’s an OG townie come back to roost, and though at least half of you are here purely out of curiosity, I trust you’ll participate with complete enthusiasm and integrity anyway. ”
“I’m here!” Clifford “Troopy” Troopman loudly bursts through the front doors. “Sorry I’m late. I was busy, but now I’m here, so the party can get started.”
“Yuh,” Alana drawls. “Because we were totally waiting for you, Cliff.”
Cue the collective giggles.
Jesus. She’s got them eating out of the palms of her hands.
“Maggie Sava,” Alana announces, lowering from her table and trading spots with Maggie.
“Sorry. Excuse me.” Cliff steps on toes and muscles his way through the crowd. “Oops. Excuse me. So sorry! Do you like my new cologne?” He stops by a gaggle of women and wafts his shirt. “Yay or nay?”
Maggie climbs gingerly to her podium in a date night dress and heels.
Fuck me, she’s ready to mingle, too, with her long brown hair, nothing like the tangled mess from two hours ago.
Her face, smooth and blemish-free, her lipstick applied with professional precision, and her eyes wrapped in long, wispy lashes that come down to kiss her cheeks.
Which is really fuckin’ annoying, because they did that back in kindergarten, too.
“Hello, everyone.” Maggie double-fists the mic, showing off—to me, anyway—the nerves she probably hopes no one else notices.
She licks her lips and stares out at her crowd.
“Some of you may know me. Some of you might not. My name is Maggie Sava, and I’m the owner and director of the Magnolia Sava Agency.
Certain family events led to my leaving Plainview some twenty-five years ago, and, once again, family events brought me back this year.
Tonight is just the first of many events I have planned, so I sincerely hope you enjoy the evening and, if we’re lucky, you may walk away with the kind of love connection we all dream of. ”
I scoff.
I swear to Christ, the sound barely penetrates my ears. But Maggie’s fiery glare stops on me anyway. Her intolerance. Her fucking fury.
“I know we’re all eager to start.” She forces a sugary-sweet smile and casts her eyes across the crowd.
“But first, I’ll go through the rules real quick just so everyone is on the same page.
Ladies sit. Each has her own assigned table.
Each date lasts for five minutes. If you want more time after those five minutes, feel free to make plans privately, but when the buzzer sounds, the gentleman must move to the next table.
Always go to your right. Do not mess up the order, because one wrong turn will affect the sequence of the entire evening. Also, there’s no touching. Period.”
“Aw man,” Tommy grumbles. “But I really wanted to.”
“Shhh,” Chris snickers.
“If you wish to exchange phone numbers with a connection, go for it. If your brother or sister is at your table, you’re welcome to sit in silence and wait for the next buzzer. It’s only three hundred seconds… you’ll be fine.”
And just like they did with Alana, the crowd laps Maggie’s words up, laughing and chattering amongst themselves.
“We have odd numbers tonight, so I’ll also have a table.
However, I apologize in advance to every single male who sits with me, because I’ll probably be more focused on what everyone else is doing to truly focus on you.
In fact,” she adds with a grin. “Perhaps consider our five minutes an opportunity to catch your breath and organize your stack of phone numbers. Each of you received a ticket on your way through the door. Hold on to it, because at the end of tonight, one lucky winner will win an entire Magnolia Sava package, valued at well over five thousand dollars.”
The men rumble and chatter. Quiet questions are muttered, and hungry eyes eat my kindergarten friend up.
They’re wondering: how much Magnolia Sava do I get for five grand?
“I think that’s probably everything,” Maggie finishes. “Servers will be here all evening, so grab a snack between visits. We have fifty men in the room tonight, and forty-nine women, plus me.”
“Fifty matches at five minutes each?” Chris growls. “That’s four hours! She expects me to talk to people for four hours?”
“Sit with my sister,” Ramone sneers. “Stay with my sister. That way, you won’t have to talk at all, and I won’t have to break any necks.”
“Ladies,” Maggie announces. “Take your seats. We’re beginning in two minutes. Gentlemen, pick your first date. A buzzer will sound at the end of five minutes, which is when you will move…” She pauses expectantly. “Where?”
“To the right,” several answer.