Page 12 of Ever's Last
“Your mom called. She wants to see you. We have a date just for that. Does that help?”
“A little. Not sure who I want to pick for tonight.” And I might be ready to see my mom, but do I want these girls around her? Probably not, but I’m selfish and will do what Sal tells me just to get my career back on track.
“You’re going to pick Natalie.”
I groan because I can’t stand her voice, but maybe I should give it a try.
“They’re ready for you.” I take my place by the couches as the women stand.
“Action.”
I look at who I have to choose from. I don’t know if I will survive this.
“Ladies, thank you for this evening. I can’t wait to get to know more about you. Natalie, would you like to join me for dinner?” She’s tall, taller than most of the girls, legs for days. She has amber eyes and her blonde, almost bleached blonde, hair falls just below her shoulders. She’s pretty, like a statue that you would find in a museum, but she fucks dirty. She squeals and jumps into my arms. The other girls frown, pissed they lost out on this opportunity.
“See you guys in an hour.” I take Natalie’s hand as the cameras follow us to the back deck. I have to eliminate someone, but I don’t think it will be Natalie. She’s notthatannoying. Plus, I should give her a chance.
Let the fun begin.
Austin brings out two plates with shrimp, corn, and potatoes. It looks so good.
“I don’t eat potatoes,” Natalie whines. Is she serious? Didn’t the catering crew get some sort of allergy or like-dislike sheet?
“Then just eat around it,” I point out.
“Okay.” She starts to pick at the shrimp and other veggies on the plate.
Fuck no. She’s one of those women that never eat. Not only is her voice aggravating but she’s a picker. I need a girl that can eat. If I’m going to grow up and be the man that my mom wants me to be, that she raised me to be, then these girls will have to understand that downhome cooking is a must in my life. I eat a Southern-style meal at least once a week while in training. I can’t have a girlfriend who is a picky eater.
The small talk is almost null and void. I can only imagine what the public will say about this. Sal is right, again— I never got to know these women. Maybe if I took them out on a date, I would have known this about her, and never would have slept with her.
“Memphis, the women are ready if you are.” Rejection always sucks.
“Memphis . . . ” Sal stops me before I take my place on the platform.
“What?” I’m still pissed.
“No one goes home,” Sal informs me. I knew how this shit would work before I agreed to it. In reality, he’s the one calling the shots. I’m sure he wants Skye to stick around and stir up drama between the women. That’s bound to be good for ratings. I roll my eyes and take my position. I’m ready for this night to be over.
“Action.”
“Ladies, I am not going to eliminate anyone. I want to take the time to get to know all of you.” Smiles span across all of their faces, even the one I don’t want to look at.
“Cut.” I leave the platform and drop down on one of the couches, willing everyone to go away so I can have some peace. I don’t know how long I sit there before Natalie asks me if I’m okay.
From what she says, I’ve been sitting here for a while. The cameras stopped rolling twenty minutes ago.
“I’m alright, but thanks for checking in on me. I just needed some air. All of this is really different than what I’m used to.” I’m ready to call it a night. Previous thoughts of wanting to ram her dissipate from my mind at the stress of the evening. I stand up from the couch and stare at Natalie. “Thanks for the evening. It was nice.”
I have to play Mr. Nice Guy while I’m here, so I will.
I hate this, having to fake being someone we all know I’m not. It just seems to me like everyone else is taking pleasure in my agony.
Chapter Nine
Ever
Chicken Fried Love? I knew the show was a Bachelor wannabe. Who came up with that name. And wow, these girls are the worst. Who doesn’t eat potatoes? My dad’s potatoes are the best. Fuck her. Okay, that was a little harsh. She’s one of the nicer ones and actually has manners. The others, though, I can feel it in my bones that some of them are spoiled brats or think they walk on water. I heard them talking about the service. This isn’t a spa or bed and breakfast. And Skye showing up? Fuck. This is going to be a long six weeks.
