2. The Welcome Party #2
Before I can respond, she’s pulling me through the crowd, past Annabelle, who looks crestfallen at the interruption of our conversation about her family’s pecan farm.
“Sorry,” I mouth to her as Gabby drags me away. I catch glimpses of other women—Luna holding court with a small group, Kavita watching us with calculating eyes.
At the pool, Gabby immediately kicks off her heels and takes off her coat so she’s just in her bikini. “Don’t you find these parties stuffy? I’m more of an action girl.” She dips her toes in the water, showing off her toned legs. “The water’s perfect. We should get in.”
I don’t normally care about soaking my clothes, but I also don’t normally wear a five-thousand-dollar Dior tux.
I remind myself that it’s on the Groomsmen to Groom production team’s tab, so I just smile before saying, “You first,” hoping she’s not serious.
She grins mischievously, then stands and dives in, splashing water all over Annabelle, who’s just approached with two glasses of champagne.
“Oh, my God!” Annabelle gasps as water soaks the front of her dress. “I was just—I brought these for you—”
“Oops,” Gabby says, not sounding sorry at all. “Accidents happen.”
Annabelle’s eyes well up again, champagne glasses trembling in her hands.
“Hey, hey.” I take the glasses and set them aside. I grab a nearby towel and offer it to her. “You look beautiful,” I tell her honestly. “A little water doesn’t change that.”
Behind us, Kavita makes a derisive noise before suddenly grabbing my arm. “Come on, Hayes! Live a little.” And before I can react, she yanks me forward, sending me tumbling fully clothed into the pool. I’m pretty sure one of my cufflinks falls off on impact.
I surface, sputtering, as several women gasp, and the camera crew rushes over. More women jump in after me.
“Isn’t this better?” Gabby laughs, swimming close to me. “Now you don’t have to be so buttoned-up.”
I push wet hair from my eyes, torn between annoyance and amusement. My tux is ruined, but there’s something freeing about the absurdity of it all.
From the pool’s edge, I spot Annabelle still fighting tears. But she’s not alone—the Vulcan woman has appeared beside her, speaking quietly. Whatever she’s saying makes Annabelle nod, then straighten her shoulders.
I swim closer to hear.
“—making a point of doing whatever they can to get attention,” the Vulcan is saying. “You have to ignore it and not get dragged down. People like that want a reaction.”
“I know that logically, but this is harder than I thought it’d be.” Annabelle sniffles.
“Right, but remember, they look desperate while you look dignified,” the Vulcan replies. “Trust me, I’ve seen enough reality TV to know how this plays out. The splasher never gets the final key that unlocks the engagement ring box.”
There’s something in her voice—a warmth beneath the Vulcan character—that strikes me as familiar. I swim to the edge of the pool near them.
“Logical assessment,” I say, and the Vulcan turns to me.
Up close, even with the costume, something clicks. Those eyes. I know those eyes.
She seems to realize I’m studying her too closely because she mouths, “We need to talk. Alone.”
“Brielle?” I whisper, stunned.
She nods discreetly.
Brielle. Here. On my season of Groomsman to Groom . I’m suddenly very aware of the cameras, the other women, and the fact that I’m soaking wet in a chlorinated pool.
“Meet me in the garden,” I whisper.
She nods, understanding immediately.
I haul myself out of the pool, water cascading everywhere, and ask Tanya for a moment to dry off and change. In the temporary sanctuary of my room, I’m given fresh clothes and a few minutes to process.
Brielle is here . The woman I connected with eight months ago, who disappeared to attend her sister’s emergency delivery. The woman I couldn’t stop thinking about, even as I agreed to do this show.
Before returning to the party, I sneak to a secluded corner of the garden to find her waiting.
“Hey,” I say, approaching cautiously.
“Hey yourself, Hero Hayes,” she replies with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” I keep my voice low. “I mean, the Vulcan entrance was epic, but—”
“I came for you,” she says simply. “The Groomsman to Groom announcement aired on TV, and when I saw it was you, I couldn’t believe it.
” She sighs. “I was happy for you, and I planned to watch the show, but then… I don’t know.
I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about that night, and I thought, what if?
So I filled out the paperwork, and Skye helped me submit it. ”
“Your sister—”
“Had her baby early, but everything turned out fine. Oliver is crawling everywhere and saying a few words now.” She steps closer. “When I saw you were filming here in Atlanta, I knew I had to find a way to become a contestant on this show. I had to see if what we felt was real or just a moment.”
My heart is doing gymnastics in my chest. “This is dangerous territory. If the other women find out we have history—”
“They’ll eat me alive,” she says. “I know the risks. I’ve written enough drama to recognize it when I’m living it.”
“Your career—don’t you have deadlines?”
She nods. “Season two of Hallucination AI is due two days after filming ends. I’m putting a lot on the line to be here.”
The realization of what she’s risking hits.
My mind spins as I fight to figure out what to say to her. I’m flattered, I’m excited, but I’m also extremely nervous. Before I can respond, we hear women’s voices approaching, so I say, “Let’s talk later,” before we make a hasty exit.
Back at the party, I’m forced to put Brielle aside as I focus on one conversation after another, working to maneuver my way through this purposefully tricky situation.
When I overhear Annabelle telling another contestant about Brielle’s writing career and the deadline she’s pushing to be here, it reminds me—Brielle isn’t here for Instagram followers or to launch a podcast. She’s here for me, at considerable personal cost.
I should send her home. For her protection. To spare her from the drama that will inevitably explode if our tryst is exposed to the others. Plus, we had our moment, and neither of us reached out afterward. What if we’re doing the square peg-round hole thing?
But I can’t send her home on the first night—not when she took such a risk. Not when seeing her again made everything else fade into background noise.
When it comes time for the first impression key, our show’s version of a first impression rose, I make the strategic choice to give it to Luna.
She’s beautiful, smart, made me laugh, and honestly, the Khaleesi costume was impressive.
Plus, giving it to Brielle would put a target on her back I’m not ready to paint.
As I hand Luna the ornate key, she beams. Across the room, Brielle gives me a subtle nod of understanding. She knows the game we’re playing. Knows why I couldn’t choose her tonight.
But there will be other nights. Other chances. And a chance to explore the connection that brought her back into my orbit against all odds.
In the background, I hear some woman say, “This is so unfair. I got no time with Hayes because I didn’t want to jump in the pool in this gown I had to buy with my own money. Sorry I didn’t come dressed like Miss Dental Floss Bikini.” More tears from someone, I don’t remember her name.
“You’re just jealous I pulled it off.” Gabby has mascara running down her cheeks from the pool, and she makes a fist as she gets up in the other woman’s face.
There’s zero chance I’m going to let a fight break out.
I step in between the two and let them know that they’ll each have more time with me tomorrow.
Now they know they’re not getting sent home tonight. They’ll be staying because the producers want as much drama as possible.
But I vowed to give every woman a chance, and I will.
I just have to navigate thirty women, an executive producer with ratings on his mind, and a reconnection I wasn’t expecting—all while trying to figure out if any of these women fit into the carefully constructed life I’ve built for August and myself.
No pressure, right?