"We're good. You're good," Brian spoke calmly.
Forcing herself to open her eyes, she saw that they were in a large room that had a humongous, square, wooden table in the center. A large, ornate, wrought-iron chandelier hung above it. The lighting was better than in the hallway but still dim. There looked to be about a dozen or so people milling about, snacking on the finger food that was spread out on the table.
"You all right?" the man who had poked his head out asked.
Becca nodded as she swallowed over the large lump that had formed in her throat. "I'm scared of spiders," she squeaked out.
"Well, this should be fun." The tall man, who reminded her of the cartoon villain on the Hanna-Barbera cartoon "Wacky Races," winked at her before spinning around in a full circle and walking away.
Becca hoped that her jaw wasn't on the floor as she watched him go. He was pale with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in skinny jeans, a white, button-up shirt with polka-dot suspenders, and black, narrow dress shoes that were at least a size fourteen, and he even had a thin, handlebar mustache with a patch of hair on his chin to complete the look.
"Are you okay?" Brian asked, rubbing his hand up and down her lower back.
She wanted to tell him that, no, no, she was not okay. That she didn't know what she was doing. She'd already been freaked out and that had been before the almost kiss in the creepy hall, the Dick Dastardly wannabe, and the spiders.
"Becca," Brian said, his voice filled with concern.
She felt a few people begin to turn and stare at them. They looked around their age and were all attractive. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin this experience for Brian. She was a big girl. She could take care of herself. She was being ridiculous.
"I'm fine," she told him, her voice coming out strong and sure. As a matter of fact, she'd said it so convincingly that she was sure even Meryl Streep would be impressed. "I've got this, B."
His eyebrows rose like he wasn't sure what she was doing, but she saw that the corners of his mouth twitched and his shoulders relaxed. He might not know why she'd had a Sybil-fast change in personality, but at least he wasn't worried about her anymore.
Then, riding on the high from the Oscar-worthy performance she'd just given, Becca straightened her shoulders, walked over to where there were bottles of water sitting on the table, and grabbed one. As she took a drink, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing her heart. The cold water felt so good going down her tight throat.
Becca tried to give herself a quick mental pep talk. She could do this. She was going to be a doctor, for God's sake. She could handle a dating show with her best-friend-slash-love-of-her-life.
What's the worst that could happen?
"Hi. I'm Brooklyn," a female voice said, cutting through Becca's mental motivational speech.
Opening her eyes, she saw that not only was Brian by her side, but a stunning blond had also joined them. She was exactly Brian's type. In fact, she looked like the perfect-ten version of the eights he'd dated.
"Hi. I'm Brian, and this is Becca." Brian's tone was friendly.
"Hi, Brian," the blond purred.
Becca noticed that she hadn't said hello to her as well. She was willing to bet that it had not been an accident. Well, Becca wasn't really in the mood to meet Perfect Ten anyway.
She watched silently as Brooklyn and Brian made small talk. This girl was good-Becca had to give her that. Flirting was not something Becca herself had ever had a real (or any!) talent for. Even the thought of flirting with someone gave her the heebie-jeebies. It just seemed so false. So fabricated. So insincere.
When it came to simply connecting with people, Becca could definitely run with the pack. Actually, she could lead the pack. But flirting was just not in her personality wheelhouse.
And even though, for some reason, Becca felt the urge to side-check this girl for basically having Brian eat out of her hand, she had to admire her skill set.
A loud crash came from the corner of the room and Becca looked up to see a man who was built like a lumberjack. And not just any lumberjack-this guy looked like a Paul Bunyan-sized lumberjack.
"Jax is here! The party can begin," the guy called out, throwing his arms in the air, his loud voice echoing in the cavernous space.
The girl who had escorted them around the side of the house, er … um … castle stepped around Jax the Lumberjack-yes, that was how she was going to remember his name-carefully ducking under the man's massive arm.
"Talent's all here," the girl spoke as she sped walked over to the Mr. Dick Dastardly clone, who was huddled in the corner with a beautiful woman who reminded Becca of Sophia Loren and two younger girls who looked just like the college students Becca saw every day on campus.
"Wonderful!" The man clapped dramatically as he announced, "I need everyone to take a seat."
As each person chose a seat, she and Brian, naturally, sat next to each other. Becca bit her lip in an attempt to not bust out laughing as Brooklyn and a redheaded girl both sat down in the chair on the other side of Brian. Then the comedy level rose tenfold when each girl held their own, staying put, claiming their territory.
Becca's eyes widened, while she watched in awe, as the altercation quickly escalated to what Becca was sure would become a full-blown catfight complete with face scratching, hair pulling, and wild swatting as arms flew around aimlessly.
Never before in her life had she been so grateful that she'd grown up with not one, but three older sisters. Not that she and her siblings had ever had a knock-down, drag-out fight, but she was sure that she had enough skills to knock Brooklyn on her pretty ‘perfect ten' rear if that chick would have pulled that stunt with her.
And if things did escalate to an even more intense physical level, she'd have to thank her five older male cousins, all of whom had made sure that each one of the Sloan girls knew how to defend herself. Not just from catty girl brawls, but also if she were ever to be attacked or assaulted for real.
Becca was unable to look away as each girl dug in her heels-or in this case, rears-not giving up an inch. It was like watching a car crash. You didn't want to look, but … you kind of had to.
The woman who reminded Becca of screen siren Sophia Loren clapped her hands together just once but in a way that immediately garnered the full attention of every person in room. "Ladies, this is not musical chairs. There are enough seats for everyone."
A snicker rolled across the room like ‘the wave' at a sporting event. The redhead stood and took an empty seat about halfway down the row, but not before giving Brooklyn a major stink eye. Brooklyn, in turn, looked as pleased as punch and smug, as anyone Becca had ever seen before, at her victory.
Brian leaned just a millimeter closer and said under his breath, "Alllllrighty then."
Becca tightly pursed her lips together to refrain from laughing. Brian was amazing at impressions. Her favorite was when he mimicked Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.
He could also do Sylvester Stallone, Bill Cosby, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Bill Clinton, Eddie Murphy, Tom Cruise-the list went on and on. She could sit and listen to him doing impressions for hours and never stop laughing.
"Great. So now that we have everyone's attention, let's get the introductions out of the way. I am Gavin Holloway and this is Sabrina Denton. We are the creators-slash-producers-slash-directors of Fairytale Love. Congratulations to all of you for being selected as our first of hopefully many casts of this brand-new spin on reality dating television. Why don't we all introduce ourselves, say our names, and one brief"-Gavin leaned forward, resting his hands, and scanned the entire crowd, making eye contact with each person seated at the table-"I'm talking one-sentence brief, something about yourself.
"Sabrina, let's start with you," he said as he sat, and Sabrina stood.
Becca still could not get over how much the woman resembled Sophia Loren.
"Hello. Like Gavin said, my name is Sabrina. I am one of the creators of this show, and whenever I lose my creative inspiration, I like to go fly-fishing to clear my mind."
Fly-fishing?!
For the life of her, Becca could not imagine this poised, classy, Prada-wearing woman in wading boots. Hmmm. She guessed the saying was true-never judge a book by its cover.
Sabrina sat, and the person next to her stood. He was good-looking. He had a tall, athletic build, and he was tan with honey-blond hair and emerald-green eyes.