Page 3 of Saving Saul

"I thought the other girls and I would start getting to know each other before the hubs open," I ask, more to myself than to Gavin. You know, bond like they do on TV."

"Common misconception." Gavin’s voice is a smooth baritone with an undercurrent of industry secrets. "The real magic starts here in the Hubs. You’ll spend approximately ten to twelve hours a day in here going on your blind dates. Of course, you will never see the man talking to you from the other side ofthe wall. So, that’s where filming starts. Now, let’s hurry; your first date should arrive at any moment.”

What…I was not prepared for that.My luggage hasn’t even arrived.

I glance sideways at him, noting his profile—a sculpture of sharp lines softened only by the sincerity in his sea moss green eyes. It’s clear that Gavin is not here for play, so I may as well get my big girl panties on and start this train wreck.

As we cross a Hub’s threshold, the air around us thins, charged with the electricity from the invisible cameras observing our every move.

"Cameras already rolling, huh?"

"Assume they always are," he confirms, with a hint of apology.

Right, I’ll keep that in mind.

As I step into my hub, I run my fingers over my pearls. Immediately, I feel calm, and the world narrows to muted hues and textures designed for comfort. Plush green seating invites me to sink into its embrace, but I remain standing, my fingers tracing the fabric. The opaque wall before me offers anonymity, yet it feels like the most significant barrier I've ever faced.

"Nice digs," I say, affecting nonchalance. Excitement thrums through me, laced with a thread of fear. This is it—the beginning of something. Or the end. I swallow hard, trying to moisten a throat that has gone dry.

"Take a seat, Tessa. Get comfortable," Gavin suggests before he steps back toward the door. For a moment, I'm torn between the urge to run and the pull of the unknown.

"Thanks, Gavin." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. I finally allow myself to sit, sinking into the cushion as if it holds the key to steadying my jittery nerves. The wall before me stands like a silent sentinel, guarding the path to my future—one conversation at a time.

The couch cushion holds my body in a comforting embrace that I need more than I care to admit. In this softly lit cocoon, the world ofLove, Unmasked,feels miles away from the vibrant streets of New Orleans, but it's there—in the thrumming of my hometown—that I find my strength.

What the hell am I doing here?

"You’re a Sinclair daughter, and you can do this,” I whisper, grasping my necklace for dear life. The pearls feel hot against my palm, and I drop them with a frown.They’ve never done that before.

I take a deep breath and remind myself this isn't just another gig; it's not about playing a part. It's time to show them who Tessa Baptiste is—the cameras, the world, whoever might be on the other side of that wall.

After a few moments,the soft click of the audio system slices through the heavy hush of anticipation, sharp and clear, like the first note of a jazz solo cutting through a quiet bar. A soft blue light flickers on in my Hub, signaling that my first potential match has stepped into his side of the wall. My breath catches, my chest tightening with nerves and excitement.

This is it, Tessa. Showtime. For real.

I swallow the lump in my throat, letting it dissolve into something else—a flicker of thrill. “Hell,” I whisper, half a prayer, half a promise. “Maybe I can have love, too.”

And then I hear it.

“Hello,” a deep voice says, rich and smooth like dark chocolate, with just enough rasp to keep it from feeling too sweet. My stomach flips, and a shiver runs down my spine. Lord have mercy. This man sounds like trouble—the kind you pray forat night and regret in the morning, but only because morning comes too soon.

Okay, maybe it’s just been a while, but this voice is straight-up sex personified. Still, I catch a hesitation in his tone immediately, which won’t do.

If I want to stay on this show, I need to connect with one of these guys long enough to keep the cameras interested, be considered for a proposal, and then not get chosen if the universe is kind. But right now? I’m already picking up serious Big Daddy Energy through this wall, and I’m here for it.

“Hi!” I say, my tone warm and welcoming, tinged with just enough excitement to soften the moment.

I wait. One. Two. Two and a half seconds. Nothing. The silence presses against my nerves like a too-tight dress after too much crawfish.

My anxiety isnotbuilt for this.

"How about I introduce myself first?” I jump in, my voice dripping smooth, like honeyed rum on a humid summer night.I don’t usually sound like this, do I?

“I’m Tessa—straight outta New Orleans.”

I chuckle softly, hoping the sound carries the same easy rhythm as a brass band down on Frenchmen Street. “You ever been? It’s my favorite place in the world. The air down there—dances with music and mystery. It’s kind of like this moment, right? I mean, this has gotta be the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but it feels like it’s got potential for a big return.”

I sink back into my chair, the plush fabric cradling me, grounding me. But my mouth doesn’t get the memo, and the words keep tumbling out. It’s like someone else has control of my mouth, and they have a lot to say.

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