Page 1 of A Chance at Love

Whitney

“Just think,” says Jess, turning from the car window. “Ten weeks from now, one of us could be fifty thousand dollars richer.”

“Yeah, or heartbroken on top of still being broke,” I say dryly. Ever since my best friend Jess and I both got accepted to be on the latest season of Love Mansion, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the inevitable tears and heartbreak that happens on these kinds of shows.

“Oh, Whitney.” Jess rolls her eyes. “You should be more optimistic, girl.”

“Okay, fine,” I say. I straighten up and push my shoulders back. “I’m going to win it all. Ten weeks from now, I’m going to be running to the bank with a big, fat, juicy check.”

“That’s better.” Jess grins. “Although…I bet they do direct deposit.”

I shrug. “Doesn’t mean I can’t still do a ceremonious sprint to the bank.”

“True. If I win, though…I think I’ll be sprinting to Barneys.”

The Uber we’re in takes a sharp turn and we both sway to the side in the back seat.

“Please don’t tell me you’d blow all the money on clothes, Jess,” I say. I mean, to be honest, I’d probably do a little shopping, too. But first I’d pay off my student loans and treat my parents to a vacation or something.

“Not all of it,” says Jess. “Just…like…ten percent or so.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Maybe fifteen. Or twenty.”

“Jess.”

She laughs. Then her eyes drift away from me and widen as she looks through the windshield of the car.

“Holy shit,” she says. “Is that it?”

I follow her gaze and feel my eyes widen, too, when I see the mansion we’re driving up to. I don’t know why we’re both so surprised—we’ve watched every episode of all six seasons of the show, and all of the seasons have been filmed here.

In person, though, the mansion is so much freakin’ grander.

Imagine a mansion. Then double it. Then double it again. Add a bunch of pristine rose bushes and exotic looking flowers all around the property. And gorgeous huge trees that look like they’ve been there for hundreds of years. And a huge marble water fountain. And warm, glowy uplighting that makes everything look even more fancy than it already is.

“I feel underdressed,” murmurs Jess.

“You’re not alone,” I say.

“Yeah, but you’re always underdressed, silly.”

I peel my eyes away from the mega mansion to shoot my best friend a look. It’s true, though. If I could, I’d be in yoga pants and a boxy oversized tee right now. Instead, I have on one of Jess’s dresses, which is sexier than anything I own. I was seriously shocked when I saw myself in the mirror earlier today—this little purple dress shows off all of my curves. Seriously, it’s like I have curves I didn’t even know about. And my boobs…in this dress, they look damn incredible. And I never say stuff like that.

Now, though, pulling up to the mansion, it feels like we should be wearing full-length sparkly ball gowns.

Soon, Jess and I find out that we’re dressed just fine. As soon as our Uber drops us off, a TV producer welcomes us and points us to the big front doors of the house, and when Jess and I walk inside, we enter into a room full of other girls who are dressed in short, tight dresses just like us.

“Hey, girls!” says Jess. They all smile at us, but at least half of the smiles barely conceal their true feelings: they’re sizing us up, trying to figure out how much of a threat we are.

Well, I guess I can’t lie. I’m doing the same to them.

The premise of this show is simple: there’s a bunch of single girls, a bunch of single guys, and a hundred thousand dollars on the line. We’ll be expected to pair up with a contestant of the opposite sex, and couples will be voted off each week. The last couple standing will split the hundred thousand.

Easy, right?

Except you just know there’s going to be a twist. And drama. Oh, so much drama.

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