Chapter Thirteen
Vivian didn’t embarrass easily. In fact, she’d trained embarrassment out of herself years ago, right around the time she auditioned for Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.
She’d worn heels too high for a casting call, jeans too tight, and a leather jacket she thought made her look edgy.
Her line had literally been “Get down!” She’d actually practiced it for days.
When her turn came, she’d crouched dramatically behind an imaginary car, shouted the line with everything she had, and then her jeans had ripped right down the seam.
The room had gone silent. The casting director hadn’t laughed—come on, it was funny—and Vivian had stood up, smiled, and backed out of the room.
There had been no callback. Megan Fox had taken the role of Mikaela Banes and gotten her big break.
Vivian had ended up with lots of tiny breaks that paid the bills.
But still, she’d learned a valuable lesson that day…
embarrassment was optional. You either learned to laugh at yourself or you never worked again.
And yet the memory of what had happened earlier at the fire-making station refused to climb off her chest and drown itself in the nearest watering hole.
Vivian dragged her fingers down her cheeks and fell back onto her bed.
She didn’t care that her cell phone dug into her spine or that the back of her head was half resting on her iPad.
She welcomed the discomfort. She wished cell phone radiation were actually lethal so she could get this over and done with.
“Fuck!” she yelled out loud as she suddenly realized the cameras had probably filmed the entire interaction. Perfect. Great. Now everyone was going to see her basically grope Sienna during the fire-making activity. What the hell had she been thinking?
Or more so, why hadn’t she been thinking? One minute she had watched Sienna scrape that steel block against the flint with her arm muscles flexing, and the next she was crouching beside her, thinking how warm Sienna’s skin felt under her top.
Vivian groaned and covered her face with a pillow. She pressed down a little harder, cutting off her air supply, and immediately regretted it. Oxygen, she realized, was needed for a life that was still worth living for.
Outside, two birds called back and forth. One cackled and the other trilled, and Vivian had the distinct feeling they were laughing at her.
It was nearly lunchtime and, according to the itinerary, the contestants were headed to a buffet in the main lodge while the production crew would set up on the outdoor dining terrace.
But there was no way she was going anywhere but here. Why would she when her villa had everything she needed? Including a fully stocked mini-bar, a cold shower, and a huge eighty-inch flat-screen television she hadn’t yet switched on.
Vivian was just about to slide off the bed and mix herself a little Grey Goose and grapefruit juice, heavy on the Goose, when a knock sounded on the door.
She didn’t move. If she stayed perfectly still, if she didn’t even breathe—
“I know you’re in there,” Elise called through the door. “What I want to know is why you are in there and not out with the girls. They’re nearly done with the workshop. Sienna has to choose who she wants for the one-on-one.”
Vivian groaned and tossed the pillow to the side. “I thought you’d already chosen for her,” she said, her voice loud enough to carry through the door. “Don’t you always choose the dates?”
“I’m coming in,” Elise said. Clearly, she didn’t seem to think communicating over a closed door was appropriate.
Before Vivian could protest, Elise walked in.
She was frowning so deeply that Vivian wanted to remind her about wrinkles and aging gracefully, but the look on her face told her to keep her mouth shut.
“Do you have another headache?” Elise asked, walking to the foot of Vivian’s bed.
“Will you believe me if I said yes?” Vivian said, rubbing at her temples.
Elise shook her head. “No.”
“Well, then I don’t have a headache.” She sat up too quickly, saw stars, and blinked them away.
“But I do feel a bit nauseous,” she added.
“It’s hot out there.” Her upset stomach had nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with what she had done.
“I’m surprised one of the contestants hasn’t fainted yet. ”
“I think one of them nearly did,” Elise said. “Themba radioed and said they took an early break under the teepee.”
“That’s good,” Vivian said slowly.
But she had a feeling Elise hadn’t come all this way just to tell her that. Which meant something else was going on. But what? Had she found out about that kiss the other night? Was that why she was here at Vivian’s villa, to tell her to stop whatever she was doing?
But what was she doing? And could it really count as something if she didn’t even have the words for it? Her reasoning was like that of someone who insisted a slice of cake didn’t count as breaking their diet if they ate it for dinner instead.
And then it hit her square in the chest. Vivian was no better than Alexis and Birdie, no better than Skye and Lucy.
She was just another hypocrite who had rolled her eyes at the previous seasons’ bachelorettes for going rogue, for blowing up the entire premise of the show.
And now she was doing the exact same thing.
Except it was worse. Way worse. The host was supposed to host. She was most certainly not supposed to kiss the bachelorette.
Even if the bachelorette kissed her first. There were rules about that kind of thing.
And beyond that, there was morality. Decency. Common sense.
“We have a problem,” Elise said, bumping her knee against the mattress.
Shit. Elise knew. She definitely knew. Sienna had obviously told her. Or maybe someone had seen Vivian rushing out of Sienna’s tent, looking windswept and flustered, and exactly how someone looked when they’d been kissed off their feet.
“What problem?” she asked slowly, her throat feeling so tight she was struggling to breathe. Was this what panicking felt like? Was she having a panic attack?
But Elise didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she walked toward the carved wooden zebra standing atop the sideboard and picked it up.
She studied it, turned it one way, then the other, which was driving Vivian insane.
She’d moved to the edge of the bed and was seconds away from leaping up and snatching the zebra out of Elise’s hands just to get her to talk.
“One of the contestants wants to quit,” Elise said finally.
“What?”
It came as a complete and total shock. Never in the history of The Sapphic Match had they encountered a contestant who wanted to quit. This was a first. This was a massive blow.
“Who?” Vivian asked when Elise didn’t reply.
“Imani.”
“Why?”
“She says there isn’t any chemistry between her and Sienna. None. Which makes me wonder—”
“About what?” Vivian interrupted quickly, her stomach flipping.
Elise didn’t answer right away. Instead, she sighed, moved toward the window and stared out at the stretch of bushveld Vivian had already memorized: golden grass, scattered acacia trees, springbok grazing lazily, and the faint shimmer of heat rising from the earth.
“If we made a mistake,” she said eventually. “What if Imani isn’t the only one who thinks that? What if Sienna isn’t…” she paused and chewed at her bottom lip.
“Isn’t what?”
Elise turned to her. Her curls were wild today. A few dangled over her eyes. She tried to push them back behind her ear, but they only fell forward again. “The right bachelorette for this season.”
Vivian’s mouth opened. But her voice croaked, and she quickly shut her mouth.
That was ridiculous. Completely insane, Sienna was perfect.
Beautiful. Magnetic. Sure, she was a little clumsy, and yes, they probably should’ve hired an on-site medic to assist Maurine, just in case Sienna tripped again, or burnt herself, or did something worse, but that was part of her charm.
“She’s everything the show wants in a bachelorette,” Vivian said when she could trust her voice again. “She’s warm, she’s funny, she’s relatable, she’s—”
“I agree. She’s lovely,” Elise said, cutting her off. “But do they want to date her? If you were in their shoes, would you want to date her?”
The question landed like a brick on her chest. The impact was so great, she even raised a hand to her heart in case it had left an actual brick-sized hole.
Because the thing was, yes, she would date Sienna.
It would be dishonest to think otherwise.
Especially after that kiss the other night, the way Vivian kept gravitating toward her, even at the most inopportune times, and the way she felt a pang of panic every time there was a shout or a scream or Maurine came out of hiding.
But Elise didn’t need to know any of that.
In fact, she shouldn’t. The less Elise knew about Vivian’s crush on the bachelorette, the better.
Vivian looked down and smoothed her palms over her jean-clad thighs. “I just think that the contestants need more time to connect with her. It’s still early. Why don’t we just see how the one-on-one dates go?” she said carefully.
Elise didn’t look entirely convinced, but it didn’t matter. Vivian knew her well enough by now that she would think about it. The last thing they wanted was to halt production for a few days. The thought of replacing the bachelorette, or even delaying a single scene, would be an absolute nightmare.
“All right,” Elise said, heading toward the door. She paused in the entryway, trailed a finger along what looked like a thick ostrich feather in a yolk-yellow ceramic vase, and added, “Now can you please get your butt out there and tell Sienna to pick between Holly and Brooke for the one-on-one.”
“Fine,” Vivian said, pushing herself up and rubbing her temples. She might not have had a headache before, but she sure as hell had one now. “I’ll be right out.”