Page 47 of Playing With Matches
“I’m sorry, Marco. Maybe another time,” she says. “We’ll be here for the whole week.”
Marco sighs sadly. “Okay. Until then, Marco dines alone,” he lifts her hand and kisses the back of it gallantly before sauntering off towards his room.
“Thank you,” Isla says. “I really didn’t want to have dinner with Marco tonight.” She hikes her tote bag up her shoulder and glances in Rob’s direction, clearly anxious to have a word with him. He’s holding court with the crew, while Rory packs the robot into an oversized case. “I need to speak with Rob about a few things,” she says.
“Me too,” I mutter with annoyance. “This wasn’t how I pictured things going down today.”
“Me either,” she confesses. “And what’s worse, I have no experience with matchmaking via group dates. I have no problems creating the intimate one-on-one opportunities that bring folks together, but a group date just seems like a random free-for-all. I can’tseeit.” She sounds as frustrated as I feel and keeps stealing glances in Rob’s direction. The line of people waiting to speak to him only seems to be getting longer.
“You really didn’t see these changes coming?” I ask. “What exactly happened when you left to have that little chat with Rob and Marco before we started taping? And what’s with Marco’s whole lovesick act? I mean, there’s no way he’s actuallythatinto you, that quickly, is there? Don’t you find that a little bit odd?”
“What makes you so sure it’s an act?” She bristles. “You don’t think I’m worthy of that kind of attention from a hot cover model?”
“With all due respect–” I start to say, but she steps away, silencing me with the palm of her hand. She lowers her sunglasses to obscure her eyes.
“If you manage to get an audience with Rob, please tell him we need to speak ASAP to sort out the details for tomorrow’s group date. And In the meanwhile, I’ve got some writing to do, so if you come back to the suite, I’d appreciate it if you don’t disturb me.”
The infamous Jackson Porter foot-in-mouth disease. I can see I’ve said the wrong thing again as she dashes off. Sometimes I need a muzzle.
I should have immediately made it clear that the issue wasn’t a fame disparity or related to her looks. The issue is that she isso much betterthan him. So much smarter, cooler, quirkier. In the best ways.
My eyes trail her as she crosses the lawn. I follow her flaming red hair and colorful green dress until she ducks behind a copse of trees and disappears between two buildings.
“Grab a drink?” Rory hooks an arm through mine and tugs me back along the beachfront in the direction of the bar. I glance around and notice that Rob is already gone.
“Sure,” I say, allowing myself to be led.
* * *
Alexis,who is truly in her element behind the bar, tries to cheer me up with creative mocktails.
“I can’t even believe you guys got this one here to do the show,” she says to Rory. “He’s usually such a stick in the mud.”
Most of the cast have already gone back to the pool or their rooms to tape confessionals. Rory, myself, and Owen have the bar to ourselves.
“Rob can be pretty persuasive,” Rory flashes a grin. “And I’m not always on board with his choices, but in this case, I was all in.” She leans closer to sniff my guava, pineapple, and ginger-spiked soda. “Is this any good?”
“Try it,” I shrug.
She leans forward and wraps her lips around my straw, glancing up seductively at me as she sips. But all I can see are her freckles and sunburnt nose. In her overall shorts and pigtails, she looks like a child that spent the day at the beach after their mom forgot to reapply sunscreen
“Hmmm. Needs vodka,” she proclaims.
“You should wear more sunscreen, Kiddo. Skin cancer is no joke.” I tap her nose, and she leans back, scrutinizing me.
“Okay, Pops,” she says. She turns to Alexis, “Maybe you need to make this guy a real drink. Is he always this way?”
Owen glances at Alexis, raising his brows and waiting to see if she’ll throw me under the bus. He’s just been sitting there quietly, drinking his beer.
Of all the participants, Owen is the oldest - an old man at thirty-five. Sort of like me. I have the feeling that we’d get along if we met in other circumstances. I also think he’s genuinely on the lookout for a life partner, unlike some of the other cast members. He doesn’t seem particularly motivated by fame. He didn’t even have an instagram account before signing up to do the show.
“If you think Jackson’s rude now, you should see him with a few drinks in him,” Alexis comments. “Zero filter. None.”
“See, I’m doing you all a favor keeping it G-rated.” I toast Rory with my very non-alcoholic soda.
Alexis is right. I kind of am an asshole when I have a few drinks. I say shit I always regret later. And it makes me nervous. Does it mean I’m like my dad? He was a really mean drunk.
To date, I’ve never had a problem with alcohol. But I’m still wary of it, and I probably always will be. I know alcoholism can be hereditary, and I don’t want to tempt fate. I’m saving my indulgences for celebrations and toasting occasions - wedding toasts and holiday parties. I’m happy to always volunteer to be the designated driver. When I do drink, I almost always cap it at two drinks. The truth is, I’m a bit of a lightweight. It doesn’t take much, which is all the more reason to be cautious.
