Chapter Fourteen
“You know, I didn’t expect you to choose me for this date,” Holly said, lifting her glass of Aperol spritz to her lips. The orange slice caught the setting sun, and the ice clinked softly and refreshingly in the late heat.
Sienna hadn’t either. But it wasn’t like she’d had much choice.
She’d been given two options: either Brooke or Holly.
Of the two, Holly had seemed like the right decision.
Not that she was unhappy about it. With her dark curls and honey-brown eyes, one would have to be blind not to think Holly was attractive.
“Why not?” Sienna asked, despite having a fairly good idea of why Holly had brought it up. Of all the contestants, Holly had failed every single bush survival activity by at least a mile. In fact, she’d been so bad at them that Themba had suggested she lie down in case of heatstroke.
“Well, it wasn’t like I did well with any of the activities,” Holly said.
“My fire kept going out. I completely messed up those navigation exercises. And tracking, well, apparently I’m not very good at it either.
It really is impossible to identify a canine by the shape of the paw pad. All I saw were blobs in the dirt.”
“At least you tried,” Sienna said. “In my book, that’s the most important thing and the reason you impressed me.”
It wasn’t entirely true. In fact, it was more of a lie, really.
But she wasn’t going to admit that Vivian had shown up out of thin air at the end of the workshop, leaned in close and whispered in her ear, telling her to choose between the two contestants.
Sienna had felt the prickliest goosebumps on her arms when Vivian’s lips had brushed lightly against her skin.
She also wasn’t going to tell Holly how fast her heart had beaten at the sight of Vivian reappearing, or how the air had seemed to leave her lungs when Vivian had walked up to her, or how her skin had burned where Vivian’s breath brushed the strands of hair falling over her ear.
Right then, a ladybug landed delicately on Holly’s cheek. Sienna, who had always believed that ladybugs were good luck, smiled. Maybe the universe approved of her lie. Or maybe it was just relieved Sienna was focused on Holly this evening and not Vivian.
“I’m grateful,” Holly said, then looked up at the branches of the massive leadwood tree towering above them.
Its branches were gnarled and twisted skyward, and they reminded Sienna of her grandmother’s arthritic fingers.
“Can you imagine all the things this tree has seen? Imagine living a thousand years,” she said, still gazing up in awe.
Earlier, Themba had given them a quick history lesson. “Leadwoods can live for thousands of years, and even after they die, their skeletons can remain standing for up to eighty years. They’re incredibly resilient and sacred to many local communities.”
“Do you think that’s really true?” Sienna asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Holly said, glancing around her.
Sienna did the same. It felt important, vital even, to take it all in. The setting was almost too beautiful to be real. Sienna didn’t think she’d ever end up on a date like this again, under a giant tree with golden grass shimmering under the golden sinking sun.
They were sitting at a wooden table, which rested on a handwoven rug patterned in burnt orange and navy.
Tiny glass lanterns sat on the table, glowing with candlelight.
Napkins were folded perfectly and tied with sprigs of dried lavender.
There were copper plates, crystal wine glasses, and a bottle of unopened white wine chilling in a silver bucket.
Holly picked up her fork and poked at a tomato. “I feel kind of bad about eating this,” she said, pointing down at her plate. “It’s almost too pretty.”
And she was right. The starters—seared scallops in a puddle of citrus beurre blanc, roasted cherry tomatoes glistening like jewels, a thick smear of carrot purée, and a handful of micro greens—looked like something out of Bon Appétit.
“Me too,” Sienna said, cutting a scallop in half.
She watched the buttery sauce cling to her fork and tried not to think about it when she stuffed the bite into her mouth.
She chewed and chewed and chewed. And without realizing it was going to happen, an excruciating silence followed.
The kind that stretched long enough to make her ears itch and her stomach knot in self-consciousness.
The kind that made her painfully aware of how loudly she was chewing and how hard her fork scraped against the plate.
Sienna was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to eat in silence while the cameras hovered nearby. She even wondered if they should eat at all or if the food was just there for props.
But no one came rushing out to tell her otherwise.
So, she ate the other half of the scallop and savored it for a second before she said, “You know, when you walked up to me during the introductions and handed me that huge envelope, I never expected a pressed flower. What did you say it was called again?”
Holly had told her the name of the flower, but at the time Sienna had felt so nervous that everything going in one ear had come right out the other.
“Lobelia cardinalis,” Holly said, chuckling. “Do you know how long it took me to locate one? I had to drive out to this wildflower patch in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s not exactly rare but getting a bloom that big and perfect enough to press wasn’t easy.”
“Well, I’m flattered,” Sienna said. She even did the whole hand-to-chest thing and batted her eyelashes for the camera.
For the quickest, briefest second, she thought about what Vivian would think if she saw her flirting with Holly, but the thought dissolved as quickly as cotton candy hitting water.
Besides, why would Vivian even care?
“You should be,” Holly said and winked. “I was a nervous wreck at the airport. I kept imagining them confiscating it at security when we landed. My hands were sweaty throughout the entire flight. By some miracle, it made it through safe and intact.”
“I promise to get it framed,” Sienna said, forgetting all about Vivian and focusing on what was in front of her. Holly. Holly was right there, gorgeous, and had gone to so much trouble with that gift. “Something that took that much effort to get to me deserves a place on my wall.”
Holly beamed.
“Now tell me, what’s it like being a florist? I’m sure it’s a little more chaotic than finding beautiful flowers to press for someone you’ve never met,” Sienna said.
Holly laughed. “There’s plenty of chaos.
Especially in February for Valentine’s Day and then again in the summer.
I do a lot of weddings, and I swear every bride wants something crazy.
Garden roses that won’t wilt in ninety-degree heat or centerpieces as tall as them.
But then there are days when it’s quiet.
Just me and my flowers and the radio on. Those are my favorites.”
By the time the mains arrived—lamb chops drizzled with rosemary butter, roasted potatoes dusted in sea salt, and honeyed carrots—the conversation had shifted to home.
Holly told her about growing up in Brevard, a small mountain town in North Carolina, and how the fog used to hang over the valley like a curtain most mornings, and when the sun came in and burnt it off, everything smelled like wet pine and soil.
Sienna had told her about her apartment in Los Angeles, two blocks from the beach in Santa Monica, and how she’d never met her neighbors, and how when she really listened, she could hear the waves from her bed.
When dessert came around—a molten chocolate cake that oozed the moment Sienna broke into it—Holly admitted that she followed Sienna’s travel blog and when she spotted her under that acacia tree, she had recognized her immediately.
Sienna hadn’t known what to say to that except, “Well, now I kind of want to go through my posts again and make sure none of them are embarrassing.” To which Holly had laughed and said, “Just the opposite.”
Not too long after that, their plates were cleared, the sun had disappeared completely behind the horizon, and they’d moved to sit side by side on a smooth trunk of a fallen tree.
Holly nudged Sienna lightly with her shoulder and pointed up to the stars. “Is that the Southern Cross?” she asked.
Sienna glanced up toward the four bright stars shaped in a cross. “I think so,” she said. “It’s so much clearer out here, isn’t it? Away from the city lights, you can really see every star.”
When she lowered her gaze, Holly had leaned closer.
Her eyes were soft in the moonlight, her lips were slightly parted, and Sienna knew what was going to happen.
Holly was going to lean in even more, and Sienna was going to meet her halfway.
Their lips were going to touch. They were going to kiss somewhat passionately for the camera.
But not too passionately since the show was rated PG.
She was readying herself. She was bracing for it, imagining the warmth of Holly’s lips, the thrill of giving in and doing it.
But then… Sienna didn’t. She pulled back and awkwardly pointed up to Orion’s Belt. “I read once that sailors used those three stars to see where they were going because they always point to true south.”
As the words tumbled out of her mouth, she wanted to rewind and smack herself on the side of the head for being so stupid.
She wanted to scream at herself to just kiss Holly like a good little bachelorette.
It was expected of her after all. The viewers would love it.
The producers probably required it. But it was too late.
Holly had already retreated and was leaning up, gazing at the stars, looking every bit as disappointed as one would expect of her.
The moment was gone.
From somewhere behind them, someone yelled, “Let’s wrap it up!”
~~
Sienna messed up. She should’ve kissed Holly. She knew it. Every episode of The Sapphic Match that she’d ever watched drilled that into her brain. The one-on-one dates were for intimacy and vulnerability. They almost always ended up in a kiss. It was in the script, after all.
Yet, Sienna had completely flubbed it. And now, at almost midnight, she still couldn’t stop replaying it in her head.
Her brain kept imagining what the viewers would say and how they would judge her hesitation.
And it wasn’t just the viewers she worried about; it was Elise too.
At the start of the date, the executive producer had made a small but pointed comment.
“Remember, Sienna, you’re the bachelorette; act like it.
” Which was something Sienna hadn’t completely understood or even taken seriously. Until now.
A twig suddenly snapped somewhere behind her.
Sienna’s heart thumped so hard she thought it might burst through her ribs.
She snapped her head toward the sound, half-expecting a wild animal or maybe even Elise rushing toward her to tell her off for not kissing Holly when it should’ve been the easiest thing she’d done all day.
But it was only Vivian walking toward her. Sienna sighed in relief. Then she realized it was only Vivian, and her heart thumped again.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Vivian asked when she came to stand right beside her. She leaned over the railing, her forearms pressing into the wood, and looked at Sienna with those eyes that could melt an iceberg.
“No,” Sienna said, jerking her head away so she wouldn’t look at Vivian.
It was too dangerous, because if she did, if she looked in her direction for even a second longer, she would have to admit the reason she didn’t kiss Holly.
The real reason. Not because she was nervous or worried about how she’d look on camera, but because Holly wasn’t Vivian.
Which was far worse than any other reason.
“I have to go,” Sienna said, the words tumbling out faster than she could move. But move she did. She turned to leave, more than eager to get to her tent, to get the hell out of here before she did something she’d regret. But then Vivian’s fingers curled around her arm and kept her there.
“Stay,” Vivian said softly. “We need to talk.”