Page 25 of You're The One
I glance at the cover, then back at him. “Hey, how far away is this place?”
“Oh, just down the street. You could probably walk there if you really wanted.” He shrugs, then gestures to the notebook in my lap. “Anyway. That.”
I flip it open, thumbing through the pages.
Photos. Names. Notes. Bios.
“What is this? A roster?” I’m reminded of Mia’s previous comment. I guess she wasn’t far off about that, at least when it comes to this show.
“Pretty much. I know it’s hard to keep track of so many new people. And you’ve got a lot of decisions coming up. This’ll make it easier.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” I murmur, still flipping.
“So, you’ve got a smaller group date tomorrow with six women, a one-on-one, and then a larger group date to close out the week. Any idea who you want for the individual date?”
“Not really,” I admit.
“What about the group date tomorrow?”
“Mia,” I reply automatically. We need a chance to talk strategy, after all.
He taps something into his phone. “Who else?”
“Umm…” I flip through the pages, pointing to women I remember from the night but couldn’t name without Bodhi’s cheat sheet.
“Good. At least we’ve got that settled, and I can prep the date card. Think on the one-on-one tonight, yeah?”
I nod, but I’m counting on a little insight from Mia to help make that call.
The car pulls into a driveway leading to what looks like a bungalow, but in an ultra-modern style. All glass exterior, clean lines, dark wood accents.
I huff a laugh. Figures. The thing that feels inexplicably wrong about my “home” follows me here. But he wasn’t kidding. It’s maybe a dozen houses down from the mansion where thewomen are staying. Which I appreciate. I mean, if I’m meant to keep an eye on Mia, I should be close, right?
Bodhi follows me to the front door. After unlocking it, he hands over the key.
“Let me know if you need anything. Per your contract, there are no cameras or mics inside. But if the women stop by, production will follow them?—”
“Are they allowed to do that?” I’m not sure what answer I want. Actually, I do. Which only makes it more confusing. But then again, I’ve never liked people in my space unless they’re friends or my dad.
He shrugs. “Technically, no. But it wouldn’t be the first time someone has broken the rules.”
“Got it.”
“If you need anything, there’s a call button on the remote that notifies me.”
“Christ, I sound like a senior citizen with Life Alert.”
“Just a bachelor without a phone. Safety still matters.” He offers a smile. “If you’re all set, I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He heads back to the car, and I’m halfway through closing the door when he calls out, “Oh, wash your face! You still have makeup on.”
Shit. I forgot about that.
I raise a hand in thanks, then shut the door and flick the deadbolt.
And for the first time all day, I let myself take a deep breath.
