He reached out his right hand. “Hello, I’m Dante.”
“I’m Genesis.” I nearly glanced at the camera crew standing to one side. Was I supposed to say my last name? I couldn’t remember.
I took his hand and felt . . . nothing. I had hoped there would be more of a chemical thing between us, but nothing happened. Objectively he was handsome, but I wasn’t feeling any kind of spark. I hoped my disappointment didn’t show on my face.
“Genesis, it is an honor to meet you.”
“You too. Thanks for having me.”
He raised one eyebrow, and I realized how that might have sounded. A warm flush spread through my cheeks. “I mean, you’re not having having me. You know, like physically or anything. Not that I was thinking that you were thinking that, I’m not trying to put words in your mouth. Or thoughts in your head. I just realized how it sounded and I . . .” I trailed off, looking at the cameras. I couldn’t help it.
I swung my gaze back to him. I sighed. There was no way out of the hole I’d just dug for myself. “Never mind. I talk a lot when I get nervous. And this is definitely nerve-racking.”
His eyes twinkled at me, and I could tell he was fighting off a smile. “Don’t worry. I understand completely. I hope we’ll have a chance to talk later.”
Thankful that he’d given me an out, I walked to the house as quickly as I could. Part of me wanted to run into a corner and hide, but just inside the house I found the girl who had gone before me. That was when I met Lemon. I introduced myself and told her that I had seen the chemistry between her and Dante, though she brushed that off. That seemed strange to me. Any other girl probably would have been thrilled to talk about how the man they were here to marry liked them right away.
We socialized, met some of the other girls, and bonded over the insanity of our situation and the fact that so many of the other contestants were out of their minds. Every time I thought we had reached the bottom of their crazy, we discovered their crazy underground garage.
Their consumption of all the available alcohol did not help.
Being in full possession of all my mental faculties was apparently going to be another strike against me. I wasn’t in the mood to be judged or to fight my way through the crowd in an attempt to get close to him.
I accepted my fate of being sent home that night, and I decided to explore the estate so that I could give Aunt Sylvia a full report. It seemed so much smaller in person than it appeared on television. None of the crew followed me, apparently deciding, as Dante had, that I wasn’t worth investing any time in. I went out the front door, making my way carefully over the cobblestone driveway. I walked toward the north side of the house, and I thought I detected the homey smell of hay and horses.
I missed my horse Marigold so much it hurt. She was a lovely chestnut American Saddlebred who was entirely too vain and lazy to be of much use around the farm. But I had adored her. I had helped deliver her ten years ago with our local vet, Dr. Pavich, and it’s what made me decide to become a veterinarian myself. I loved animals and thought I could be very happy spending my life taking care of them.
But when our financial crisis struck, Marigold had to be sold. There was no choice. We couldn’t afford to keep her. It had been the second-saddest day of my life.
The scent got stronger, and I could see the barn through the tall fence in front of it. It had to be about eight or nine feet, made out of patterned wrought iron. I tugged at the gate, but it was locked. There was a row of decorative spiky arrowheads all along the top. I knew that I should probably go back to the party. But if there were horses in that barn, I would much rather spend the evening with them than the women back at the mansion.
I checked behind me to make sure that I was still alone, and then I hiked up my skirt. I grabbed the metal bars and started to climb. This did not turn out to be as easy as you might expect in high heels and formal wear. The soles were so slippery. I considered kicking them off but was worried I might hurt my feet.
That decision turned out to be a huge mistake. I got toward the top, grabbing a couple of the arrowheads to pull myself up. I threw my left leg up to go over, and my right foot gave way underneath me. I yelped as my foot slipped and I started to fall.
Some of my skirt caught on one of the arrowheads and abruptly stopped me from falling. I was hanging awkwardly, holding the top of the fence, my legs dangling and my skirt caught on the top of the fence. Both of my shoes slid off my feet and dropped to the ground.
It was so ridiculous I had to laugh. I was trying to figure out how to get down, but I couldn’t stop laughing. This was so something that I would do. I wasn’t particularly accident prone, but I was very good at finding ways to embarrass myself.