Chapter Three
“Try to smile like you mean it, Red,” Marla whispered behind her monitor. Her voice crackled through the tiny earpiece in Skye’s right ear. “Think romance. Warmth. Openness. Make the audience believe that you’re into this.”
“I’m not into this,” Skye muttered, smoothing both palms down her emerald-green slip dress.
It was silky and backless with a thigh-high slit that had her feeling somewhat naked.
But still, she tilted her head slightly and lifted one corner of her mouth.
The camera panned right as a production assistant handed her a fresh glass of something bubbly and disappeared before she could say thank you.
It was the introduction, and the entire setup looked like a fever dream.
The fire pit had been lit purely for ambience, considering it was hot and humid.
Low music pulsed through the air. There were fairy lights crisscrossing above them, and a platter of vegan hors d’oeuvres sat untouched on a glass table to her left.
In the distance, Skye could spot the ocean shimmering navy blue.
She stood just inside the glow of the fire, gripping her champagne flute with unsteady fingers.
The cameras were rolling. The production team waited in anticipation.
Her smile was neither real nor excited. Not to mention her fight-or-flight instincts had kicked in.
She wanted to run just far enough to fake a twisted ankle and get medically evacuated from this nightmare.
Skye considered it for a second. She even stepped forward. But then the first contestant rounded the corner.
The woman walked slowly and purposefully along the winding path lined with lanterns. She was tall, with long legs and oversized curls, and her teeth were sparkly white. Her dress clung to her hips in a way that made Skye feel hot. Very hot.
“Hi. I’m McKenna,” she said. Her voice was light and confident when she reached Skye. As she held out a large, glossy shell, she said, “This is for you.”
Skye blinked down at it. It was pinkish, with striations along the perimeter.
“It’s from my favorite beach,” McKenna said before Skye could ask her about it. “Thought you should have a piece of my favorite place in the world.”
Skye had worked on the show long enough to know what to say next. She had to flirt. She had to be warm. She had to at least fake interest. Which was exactly what she did.
“And where is that?” she asked.
“Laguna Beach,” McKenna replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I go there whenever I need to reset. The tide. The cliffs. The sound of the ocean. It’s kind of magical. I’d love to take you there.”
Skye could feel her ears go hot as she plastered a smile on her face.
“I can’t wait.” It wasn’t true, and frankly, the words felt kind of weird to say out loud, kind of embarrassing.
She couldn’t imagine what her family would say when they found out she was the star on The Sapphic Match. She wouldn’t be able to live it down.
McKenna stepped in for a quick hug before she floated off toward the fire pit’s seating area. Her perfume was both sweet and citrusy, and it made Skye’s head hurt.
“One down,” Skye muttered softly to herself. “Eleven to go.”
The next woman stepped into the firelight. She wore a silky silver wrap dress that kept slipping off one shoulder, and her auburn hair was up in a sleek bun.
“Hi, Skye. I’m Veronica,” she said with a breathy little laugh. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing, but I thought, you know, why not do something original, so I wrote you a little poem.”
Before Skye could say anything, perhaps mutter an awkward ‘that’s nice,’ Veronica was slipping a piece of paper out of a hidden pocket in her dress and unfolding it.
“Twelve hearts,” she began, glancing down. “One fire-lit night. In Hawaii, we gather for a chance at something right. Maybe it’s messy, or awkward, or slow. But maybe, just maybe, I’m worth getting to know.”
There was a beat of silence, and Skye had to keep herself from glancing toward the cameras and toward Marla standing off to the side grinning sheepishly.
“That was…” Skye searched for the right word, the right phrase that would make the audience happy. “Surprisingly sweet.”
Veronica looked relieved. She tucked the paper back into her dress and gave a smile before she made her way toward the fire pit where McKenna was waiting.
Before Skye could catch a breath, another woman was already standing in front of her. She wore a hot-pink two-piece and carried an envelope in her hand.
“I’m Charlotte,” she said crisply. “I thought about doing something cute or funny, you know, like all the other contestants, but honestly, a pros and cons list is more my speed.”
Skye raised an eyebrow. “A list?” she asked, not sure if she’d heard correctly.
Charlotte handed over the envelope. “Typed. Double-spaced and color-coded by category. I have what you call a Type A personality. In my opinion, organization is the most underrated love language.”
Skye frowned slightly, but then quickly fixed her face before Marla scolded her through the earpiece. “You know this makes you a little terrifying,” Skye said, hoping it would come across as flirting and not literally like she meant it.
Charlotte chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”
Skye glanced down at the sheet. Apparently, Charlotte was emotionally available, great with medium-sized dogs, could parallel park under pressure, and also extremely competitive. On the other hand, she detested the sound of people eating.
The next twenty minutes unfolded in a blur of overly rehearsed greetings, bright smiles, and beautiful women.
A woman called Amy serenaded her with a ukulele.
Another woman called Vera gave her a rose quartz crystal she’d found on a hike in Sedona, and then another woman called Delilah had gifted her a mason jar of homemade pickled beets that was apparently her grandmother’s recipe.
Finally, the introductions were coming to an end, and Skye couldn’t wait to sneak off to the bathroom, kick off her heels, and splash some cold water on her cheeks.
But before Skye could blow out a breath in relief, the final contestant stepped onto the path.
She was blonde, but not in the overly bleached, overly styled way that several of the others had been.
Her hair looked soft, tousled, pulled into a loose bun like she’d done it quickly and didn’t care if it was perfect.
A few wisps clung to her temples from the humidity, and freckles were lightly scattered across her nose like someone had shaken a pepper shaker over her face.
Her yellow sundress was simple and loose, but somehow showed off her lovely curves.
She was wearing barely any makeup, just a touch of blush and a single swipe of mascara.
After eleven contestants who all appeared perfectly polished, completely camera-ready, it was rather refreshing. Which was why Skye felt her pulse skip, just once, low and annoying in her neck.
“Hi,” the woman said, her voice warm and not forced.
“I’m Lucy. And unlike every other woman before me, I didn’t prepare anything.
” She glanced toward the fire pit where the other eleven contestants were gathered.
“Not because I don’t think you’re worth it, but rather because I haven’t actually watched much of the show and didn’t know it was a thing. ”
Skye, who had spoken to eleven gorgeous women tonight, felt completely and inconveniently thrown off.
Probably because this was the first time a contestant had come unprepared.
No gift. No ukulele, or serenade, or weird crystal that changed color under the light.
There was just her. Unapologetic and real.
“Hopefully, a traditional meet and greet will be enough,” Lucy added.
“It’s risky,” Skye said, smiling. She was glad she didn’t have to force another ‘oh how interesting’ or ‘you’re such a good singer’ when clearly, they were not.
“I guess so,” Lucy shrugged. One shoulder rose just enough to shift the dress’s strap. “But I like a little risk, don’t you?”
Skye opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Depends,” Skye managed to say. “Risks can be worth it, or they can totally blow up in your face.”
“Guess we’ll see which one I am,” Lucy said, and for a second, neither of them moved. Not until Toni, the second assistant director, cleared her throat from the sidelines.
Lucy stepped back. “Well, I should probably join the other girls before they start gossiping behind my back.”
“That’s probably a little too late.” Skye glanced over Lucy’s shoulder at the fire pit and at the women whispering amongst themselves. She knew from experience that the gossip had started the moment the women had stepped onto the boat.
“Fair enough,” Lucy said. She looked like she was about to step away when she added, “You’ll let me know if I’m blowing it, right?”
Skye hesitated, caught off guard once again. “I think you’re doing just fine,” she said, softer than she meant to.
Lucy smiled again and then turned and walked toward the fire pit.
And for some reason, Skye completely forgot that urge to run away, that instinct to sprint to the nearest bathroom to escape this bad idea.
Which only made the entire thing worse, because if she wasn’t dreading it, if she wasn’t actively hating every second of it…
well, then it wasn’t simply a bad idea anymore; it was a dangerous one.
“Amazing,” came Marla’s voice in her earpiece. “We’ve got it. It’s gold. You, my dear Red, did fabulously. I knew we’d chosen the right replacement.”
Skye didn’t agree, but she didn’t say anything. She simply blinked as the moment snapped like a rubber band. She turned to see Toni stepping forward with her clipboard, already motioning the next steps as if they were behind schedule. Which they probably were by a mere few seconds.
“Alright, Red,” Toni said briskly. “We’re resetting for the group shot at the fire pit.
I want you to stand center, hold your champagne, and look warm and open.
After that, we’ll roll right into your toast. Keep it short and sweet, please.
Thirty seconds max, and then you mingle for a bit while we get B-roll.
You’ll get your cue when it’s time to step aside for the first one-on-one. ”
Skye knew all this. She’d given these exact instructions far too many times when she was behind the camera, clipboard in hand, headset snug against her ear. Hearing it directed at her made her skin crawl. Yet she nodded curtly and did as she was told.