Chapter Eight
Sienna smoothed her hand over the sides of her dusky blue dress.
After the sunscreen disaster, production had a whole new wardrobe flown into the bush for her, so at least she had options again.
It was a last-minute change from the one she’d initially chosen for the first rose ceremony.
Her first pick had been a coral satin, backless, meant to pop against the golden hour light.
It would’ve been spectacular if her skin hadn’t toasted like a marshmallow.
Instead, she’d gone for one with soft flutter sleeves, a high neckline, sheer fabric that swept down to the middle of her calves, and most importantly, covered the bandage on her back.
She took a sip of the champagne a PA had shoved into her hand earlier and tried not to think about the sting that shot through her back every time she moved, or the possibility that Elise would use the whole hot stone disaster in the next episode.
But then, why wouldn’t she? Disasters made for great TV.
People literally made entire franchises about disasters.
And what had happened to her had felt just a little Final Destination-y.
“How are you feeling?” Elise asked, walking toward her with a packet of notes clutched in her right hand. She was dressed in all black tonight, and in the shadowy corner of the lodge where the light didn’t reach, it made her look like a disembodied head hovering above the deck.
“Fine,” Sienna said, touching her hair. Fi had pinned it half-up with loose waves falling around her shoulders. “Better. It looks worse than it is. The therapist barely put the stone on my back before I jumped up screaming, and I think that limited the damage.”
“I meant about the rose ceremony,” Elise said.
Sienna felt her face heat up. “Oh,” she muttered, embarrassed.
But Elise didn’t seem to notice because she was already saying, “For tonight’s ceremony, we’ll start with a wide shot of the deck as the contestants line up under the acacia.
You’ll be standing by the railing facing them.
Vivian will make her speech, and then you’ll walk over to that pedestal.
” She pointed to a tiny pedestal that was next to an acacia-carved elephant statue.
The pedestal held nine ridiculously red roses.
“Once you’ve picked up the rose, I want you to draw it out a little.
Count to five in your head. Make them sweat.
We want viewers leaning so far forward on their sofas that they nearly fall off. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes,” Sienna said, though she was only half listening now.
Vivian stepped through the open doors. She wore a bone-colored blazer without sleeves and matching straight-cut trousers. Her hair was slicked back at the sides. Her heels were unbelievably high, which made her look even taller than she already was.
Vivian’s focus was on the camera crew setting up by the stairwell. Sienna hoped she wouldn’t look her way. In fact, she even prayed she didn’t because, honestly, she couldn’t face her after this morning’s disaster. But then…
Sienna spun around so quickly that she felt dizzy.
Ahead of her stretched an endless black sea of bushveld and starlight.
Behind her, Elise said something else—something about timing and holding the rose so it caught the light—but Sienna wasn’t listening.
She was muttering a prayer under her breath, hoping that even though Vivian had spotted her, she wouldn’t come her way.
Unfortunately, she’d never been religious enough for her prayers to be answered.
“Elise,” Vivian said, her voice silky and smooth. “I need your opinion.”
“Shoot,” Elise replied.
“Would you rather I make the walk across for the intro, or stand beside Sienna for the first pull out?”
“Walk across,” Elise said. “Start your mark by the door. Camera two will catch you coming through, then swing left until you join Sienna.”
“Easy.”
“Like spreading butter on toast.”
There was a pause. Then footsteps whispered softly against the deck. For a moment, Sienna let herself hope it was Vivian who had walked away. But then a voice came, soft and smooth, and her entire top layer of skin broke out in prickly goosebumps.
“Evening,” Vivian said.
Sienna stayed perfectly still. She considered playing it cool and not turning around.
Then she thought about pretending she hadn’t heard Vivian, not because she wanted to ignore her, but because a part of her wanted Vivian to try again.
To say her name this time. To step closer.
Maybe even touch her on the shoulder. Or the arm.
Or anywhere, really. But then she thought about how fucking ridiculous all that sounded and spun around.
“Wow. You look—” Sienna started, but then immediately caught herself. Whatever compliment was going to spill out of her mouth should be saved for the ten ladies who were actually vying for her attention. “Better than I do,” she finished.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Vivian said without hesitating. Before Sienna could consider whether that counted as flirting, she added, “How’s your back? Any pain still?”
“Not much,” Sienna lied. Her back hurt. She was uncomfortable. Every now and then, the sparkly pool caught her eye, and she remembered the doctor had instructed her not to go swimming. Which somehow made the heat feel even more oppressive.
“Well,” Vivian said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Sienna nodded. Her eyes flicked down to Vivian’s chest. On it rested a thin gold chain with a tiny, square-shaped diamond pendant.
She wondered if it meant anything to her, and then she noticed how dangerously close it rested to her cleavage.
She snapped her head up before she accidentally stared for too long.
Vivian watched her. Those blue eyes felt like little searchlights sweeping over her face, looking for something. It made Sienna nervous.
“Have you made your decision?” Vivian asked, tilting her head to the side.
Sienna found herself tipping back the remainder of the champagne.
Liquid courage. She had, in fact, not made her decision.
Or barely even thought about it. All ten contestants were great.
They each had qualities she liked, and they were all gorgeous.
Some were funnier. Others smarter. Both Imani and Lucille had acted so tentatively toward her after the whole spa incident, bringing her flavored water and reminding her that accidents happened to everyone.
Holly, Dani and Nisha had made her feel better by recounting their own embarrassing stories.
Brooke, Trina, and Lara had spent the rest of the afternoon doting on her.
They had brought her slices of papaya, cut strawberries, and had smeared salty crackers with a selection of cheeses from the cheese board they’d been served.
At one point, Sienna even had to remind them it was her back that was burned and not her feet.
And Carla and Marie had offered to dip towels in the pool and place them on her arms and legs so she wouldn’t succumb to heatstroke.
The truth was, she didn’t want anyone to go home.
“What would you do?” Sienna asked. “If you were in my position, how would you choose who goes home?”
Vivian looked surprised by the question.
The small space between her eyebrows folded together.
Sienna thought she was either going to laugh at her or tell her off, because surely Sienna should have locked in her choice by now.
But then Vivian said, “I… I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.
” She exhaled and chewed on her bottom lip.
“I guess it isn’t the easiest choice to make. ”
Sienna was taken aback by her honesty. It felt like an admission that this whole thing was a hell of a lot harder than everyone thought, even harder than she had ever imagined.
The gravity of sending someone home was practically life changing.
What if you accidentally sent home the wrong person?
What if you waved goodbye to the person who was actually your soulmate, and then you ended up spending the rest of your life haunted by a soul-crushing ‘what if?’
“It isn’t,” Sienna said.
Somewhere behind them, a hyena whooped. Then a bird squawked, and Sienna snapped her head back to see if either animal was close enough to pose a threat.
When she looked back, Vivian was standing closer.
Close enough that Sienna could see that the square diamond on her chest wasn’t square at all. It was coffin-shaped. Intriguing.
“Something tells me you haven’t made your decision yet,” Vivian said, almost smirking.
“Is it that obvious?”
Vivian let out a little chuckle. Sienna smiled.
She didn’t want to. But she couldn’t help it.
It was like a cascade of events, ending with a shiver skipping down her spine and her mind teetering on the edge of conjuring up forbidden images that never fully formed.
Or they would have if it hadn’t been for the rak-rak-rak of a lilac-breasted roller somewhere above her head.
“Just go with your gut,” Vivian eventually said.
“What if my gut is wrong?” Sienna asked. “What if my gut can’t tell the difference between what I think I want and what I actually want? I mean, what would you do? What kind of qualities do you look for in the men you date?”
“Men?” Vivian asked. And she said it so sharply Sienna felt like she’d been politely slapped across the face.
Yes. Men. Who else?
“Your boyfriend,” Sienna blurted, too fast, too desperate.
She wanted a clear, concise answer before Elise announced that the rose ceremony was starting.
She wanted to know what qualities she should be looking for in the ten contestants.
And maybe she also wanted to know if Vivian was dating anyone.
If she was dating someone, Sienna assumed she was dating a man.
She always assumed every woman was straight until proven otherwise.
If Vivian were dating someone, especially a man, she could finally shove this ridiculous crush into a metaphorical drawer and lock it in there for good.
Because that was exactly what this was: a ridiculous crush.
And she didn’t have crushes on people in relationships. It was her one cardinal rule.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Vivian said slowly.
“Oh,” Sienna replied, all breathy and surprised. But then again, why was she surprised? It wasn’t like Vivian had a ring on her finger, and she traveled for work. People who traveled for work tended to—
“I’m into women, Sienna,” Vivian said, cutting Sienna’s thoughts off like a lightning strike against a tall tree. “I thought you knew that.”
Sienna felt a jolt deep in her bones like a current snapping through her chest. Vivian was into women. Wait, had she heard correctly? Suddenly, Sienna wasn’t so sure. The expression on Vivian’s face was hard to read.
Or maybe Sienna had just gone blind.
“I’m lesbian,” Vivian added when Sienna said nothing. Apparently, she’d gone blind and mute. “I thought it was obvious.”
The short hair. The blazers. The trimmed nails. The way she’d held onto Sienna’s hips during that near fall before breakfast earlier today. But then again, straight women could be handsy too. In fact, they were often confusingly affectionate. It was basically a global pandemic.
Sienna blinked and tried to play it cool. But when she spoke, her voice wobbled. “I’m sorry, I just assumed…” She didn’t finish her sentence because it sounded bad. Really bad.
Vivian smiled. “You know what they say about assuming.”
Sienna opened her mouth. Then closed it.
She knew the saying went: it makes an ass out of you and me, but her tongue felt drier than the bushveld sand and stuck to the roof of her mouth.
She tried again. Or at least she wanted to.
But then Elise called suddenly from across the deck.
Her voice was like the pop of a champagne cork.
“We’re rolling in five! Everyone get ready. ”
Vivian turned to move away. Her unbelievably long heels were already clicking on the smooth deck, and Sienna was sure she’d ruined the moment.
Although she wasn’t sure what moment. But then Vivian stopped.
She glanced over her shoulder and looked at Sienna.
Really looked at her, like she was trying to see straight through her skull to her humming brain.
“I guess I’d send home someone who doesn’t make me feel anything,” she said.
And then she was gone, leaving an already confused Sienna standing there with her pulse in a freefall and her brain buffering.