“You only get him for the first Heart Celebration and the last one. Other than that you’re on your own.”
“For hair and makeup too?” I could do my own everyday makeup fine. My own evening makeup. Pageant makeup too. But I’d never done television makeup. I didn’t want to put on too much or too little.
She nodded.
“It’s fine. I’ll go out later and get some things.”
“You can’t. You can’t leave this house unless you’re on a date with Dante or we’re traveling to a different location. No shopping, no movies, no gyms, nothing. You have to stay here on the estate.”
“What?” I hadn’t realized that I’d basically be a prisoner. It was a gilded cage and all, but I wasn’t down for being locked up.
“Sorry. Look, I’ll go out and get your stuff today, okay?” Taylor and I were the same dress and shoe size and had often shared clothes in college.
Looked like I didn’t have much of a choice. “My things are back at the hotel. I’ll reimburse you when everything gets here.”
She nodded.
“And I have a condition.”
That made her look up. “What?”
“I am going to need access to my phone. I will need to call my fiancé and my family. I will also need to keep on top of Kat and Nico’s engagement press tour, so I can’t be completely cut off from civilization.” I could just imagine my poor little phone blowing up with incoming texts and e-mails. People were probably wondering why I’d fallen off the face of the earth.
“The problem is that this show relies on total lack of communication with the outside world. It changes things if the contestants know what’s happening when they’re not around.” She started chewing on one of her fingernails, a terrible habit she had when she was worried. An older sorority sister had once tried to cure her of it by adding cayenne pepper to her nail polish. It hadn’t worked.
“I understand, but this is nonnegotiable.”
“How about this? You can periodically check your phone, but not every day. And I have to be in the room when it happens to make sure no sensitive information is leaked. Either by you or to you.”
I sighed. The paranoia was ridiculous. But she was serious about her job, and I had to respect that. “Fine. I agree. Now where can I go to sleep?”
“Follow me.”
She explained that the mansion had eight bedrooms and nine bathrooms. Which wouldn’t be fun at first since we’d all have to share, but would get better as time went on and people got sent home. Taylor explained that we would have to double up, and, in a couple of cases, triple up. She led me into a darkened room where I could see Genesis sleeping in one of the twin beds. “She claimed you as her roommate. Have a good nap.”
I nodded, so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. I heard the door close behind me as I kicked off my shoes, pulled my jersey and jeans off, and climbed into bed.
And prayed I wouldn’t have any dreams about Dante.
Genesis gently shook me awake. “Sorry, Lemon,” she said in a soft voice. “They want us to go outside to the pool because they’re announcing a group date for this afternoon.”
Showtime. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Genesis looked pretty and natural. She’d put her hair up in a ponytail and her face was makeup-free, and she was the kind of woman who looked nice even without it on. She had on a green one-piece bathing suit under a sheer cover-up.
My luggage had been brought over and was at the foot of my bed. Just beyond that were shoe boxes and dress bags hanging up in my closet. I ran over to take a look and was glad that Taylor had such excellent taste. She chose dresses I would have chosen myself.
I had two swimsuits with me, and I knew how much of this show took place poolside. I held my bikini up, and Genesis said, “They have swimsuits downstairs. Apparently we’ll be wearing them a lot. You should probably hurry, because I think you’re the last one up.”
I told her I’d meet her there and to go on without me. I jumped in the shower, dried off, put on sunscreen, and fixed my hair. I put on one of my bikinis, a pair of shorts and sandals, grabbed my sunglasses, and went to inspect what else they were offering.
What they had were barely there suits that would leave little to the imagination. I would have had more coverage if I’d slapped on a couple of Band-Aids.
But beggars couldn’t be choosers. I tried to pick the least offensive ones of the bunch and decided America could get over it if I wore the same bikini more than once.
I came out to the pool where the girls were all sunning themselves, angling their bodies just so to make sure that they didn’t look fat or flabby. I wondered if their backs hurt from arching them like that.