Why the hell was I so stressed about this challenge? We’d already been through this once before…and yet here I was freaking out for no good reason.

  We were assembled in one of the mansion’s “spaces”—they were rooms I might call living rooms or family rooms but I imagined that, in earlier times, they might have been called parlors or sitting rooms. More recently, maybe they were called dens or in different company, drawing rooms. Thing is we had more of those than I’d bothered to count—and the only reason why I think we had them was for shit like this.

  Honestly, though, it seemed like this mansion had been bought with most of its contents intact. I could have been wrong, but I thought I’d overheard Cat telling one of the guys that on our first night. I hadn’t seen the entire mansion and I wondered if I ever would. I wasn’t allowed to explore the men’s wing unless accompanied by one of them. That was one of the rules—just as they weren’t allowed to be in my penthouse without my permission or knowledge. I knew that if I’d ever felt like it, I could wait till early morning when even the cameramen were sleeping (another area of the mansion that was off limits was the basement level—that was where all the crew were set up) and snoop around. But there were cameras in every corner of every room, save the bathrooms. Even outside, there were little cameras everywhere—probably even spots I didn’t know about.

  So we had lots of bathrooms and living room areas but only one confessional room—and I think that, too, was part of the plan. It was easier for us to monitor who’d been in and out of there. But I think it was also because they’d bothered to make the room soundproof—so we couldn’t listen in on someone else…and now that we wouldn’t be watching the show air, it would be completely private. Plus, because they had the confessional room set up so that we could record but not touch any actual camera equipment (to prevent us from tampering), they probably didn’t want to create a room like that over and over. Too complicated, I supposed.

  But here we were in a new space waiting for Cat. The camera guys were there in full force, probably so they could focus on each face’s reaction, but it was already five minutes after one without any sign of our hostess. At least this was a different room to look at, and it was kind of breathtaking. The color scheme was muted, not quite off-white or beige, but kind of in between. One wall was a solid mirror from ceiling to floor, but it had 3D “branches” overlaid on it, creating a feel of the outdoors, even though there was no mistaking it was art and not a window. Then there was a sectional, one of the comfiest I’d ever sat on. There was a low-lying dark brown coffee table with a squat vase on it full of small fresh flowers whose scent managed to fill the space. But what struck me most about this space was that there were no windows, yet it felt comfortable; more than that, though, was the white marble floor and the breathtaking white ceiling—there was a modest in-ceiling chandelier, but around the perimeter of the ceiling were lights underneath a decorative cover that was reminiscent of the branches on the mirror.

  I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to this.

  The guys seemed less impressed.

  “How long is she gonna make us wait?” Thomas asked, tapping his long fingers on the coffee table.

  “Maybe they’re having troubles with getting the challenge ready for us.” Grayson tried to smile, but I imagined he was reliving last week’s competition in his head—and that had been pretty difficult for the poor guy.

  Cat finally breezed in a few more minutes later. Even the camera guys looked bored. As always, though, I could tell her appearance made all the men in the room instantly forgive her. Her blonde hair was slicked back, looking sleek to match her off-white dress that ended mid-thigh and clung to her like she’d been born wearing it.

  “Are we ready?”

  The men nodded without words, underscoring how she’d taken their breath away. She was going to wind up in a relationship, too, if she wasn’t careful. I wondered how the other powers that be felt about that.

  “So let me tell you about your challenge today. First, what you’re playing for is an entire evening with Claire—a romantic date. It could be dinner on a beach, dancing, whatever else you choose, but don’t worry—we’ll give you ideas if you’re stuck. The rest of you will get a lunch date with our lady, but the time spent with her will depend upon your prowess in our challenge.” Glancing at the guys, I saw that both Thomas and Gabe looked confident, even almost cocky. They had this. I couldn’t read Darius’s expression, possibly one of the reasons I really wanted to get to know the guy better. He was a closed book, but he begged to be cracked open and lovingly read for understanding. Then poor Grayson. He had a brave face on, but there was something about his soft green eyes that gave away his nerves.

  Cat was finally ready to put him out of his misery.

  “Your challenge today is a word puzzle.”

  “A what?” Gabe asked. I could visibly see the tension in Grayson’s jaw relax!

  “Did I stutter?” Cat’s lips turned up in a slight Cheshire smile. “You’ll be solving a paper word puzzle with a pencil, and you’ll have two hours to do it. The man who is closest to finishing the puzzle at the end of two hours will be declared the winner. Each of you will be in a different room with nothing more than a table, chair, a glass and a pitcher of water, and the puzzle and a pencil.” Gabe’s jaw looked like it was going to hit the floor. “You can opt out now if you like—but if you don’t try, you forfeit any date with Claire.”

  Oh…that was harsh. But part of me was glad, because it meant that each man would at least have to try—and, if he didn’t, he probably knew it would make me look at him differently. After all, these guys should be willing to do almost anything for me. What harm could come from a damn word puzzle?

  “Gentlemen,” she said, stepping aside, away from the doorway. Four of the guard guys, including John and William, stood in the hallway, ready to escort each man to his room. Four cameramen exited the space as well, and it suddenly felt like I could breathe fresh air again. It hadn’t actually been stuffy but it had felt tight…and maybe part of that was due to the tension. It dawned on me then that the language Cat used, as well as the way she delivered her messages, were meant to increase any anxiety we might be feeling. Damn, she was good at her job, and I marveled every time I gave it actual thought—even though part of me was growing to despise the woman.

  Once the room was down to me, Cat, and one cameraman, she said, “And now, we wait.” She held out a hand, indicating I could sit down again, and then she peeked her head out of the doorway. Seconds later, she said, “Our guy’ll be bringing us some water and a couple of magazines in case you get bored.” By the time “our guy” had arrived, Cat was on her cell phone, swiping and thumb-typing, and I tried to read one of the People magazines in front of me, but I had no interest in the Kardashians or Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift.

  I had an impending suitor to worry about.

  * * *

  The nail-biting I mentioned earlier? As the minutes dragged on and I found no release in the magazines I tried to thumb through, I grew closer and closer to actually placing my index finger to my lips so my teeth could gnaw on the nail. But my manicure wouldn’t have made that easy, even if I’d decided to give in. It was bad enough that I was putting them between my teeth.

  I didn’t even know how much time had passed by the time I dropped the third magazine on the dark wood of the coffee table and picked up my glass of water, polishing it off. I stood and stretched, now disappointed that I didn’t even have a window to stare out of. That could have alleviated my boredom and stress. I saw that there was a flat-screen TV on the wall opposite the mirrors, but television was off limits during our matchmaking game. I doubted they had cable installed anyway, even if I’d tried.

  Finally, I took to pacing the length of the room, and that was when Cat got the idea. She put down her phone and asked, “Do you want to see what they’re doing?” I turned, cocking my head. “Give me a second.” With that, she left the room, so then I was alone with the camera guy who, frankly, looked just as bored as I felt. But it wasn’t long before Cat clipped back in the room with a clipboard. “I thought maybe you could work on the puzzle, too, and see if you could win.” She handed me the clipboard and a pencil. “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

  As stir crazy as I felt, I said, “Why not?”

  I stared at the puzzle for a few minutes, trying to get my bearings, and then I got smart and read the directions. Then I looked at the first clue, which said “Oedipus Rex” playwright followed by nine blanks. Shit. How the hell was I supposed to remember that one? I hadn’t studied Greek plays in years. The next clue said big cheese and that answer was six blanks. I was already stressed and I wasn’t even having to compete. “Do the guys have the same puzzle I do?”

  “Yes. It wouldn’t exactly be fair if they all had different ones, now would it?”

  Then I understood why they gave the guys two hours and told them they didn’t have to finish to win. I started skimming through the definitions and finally found one I knew. Author of “The Tell-Tale Heart.” That was none other than Edgar Allan Poe. With one success under my belt, I began feeling a little more confident and continued scouring for ones I could answer. Just as I really got into the rhythm of it, Cat put her phone down and sat up. “I think we might have a winner.” She stood up and started walking across the room.

  “How do you even know?”

  Pulling her hair back, she tapped on her tragus to reveal a tiny ear piece. “I just got word that there was a knock on a door.”

  She still sounded like she’d lost her mind. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The men were instructed to knock on the door when they think they’re done—if they complete the puzzle before we call time. If they think they’ve solved the puzzle correctly, I have to check and make sure they have the correct answer—on camera—so I’ll be back.”

  The day before we started the show, the producers gave me head shots of the five guys along with their first names. I was already in the mansion, confined to just a couple small areas, but those pictures made my mind go wild. At the time, I had no idea that I wouldn’t be excited waiting to find out who’d won. I was, instead, anxious—and I couldn’t figure out why. Any one of these guys would be right for me—at least, according to the experts who’d chosen the men.

  So why was I almost panicking?

  Chapter Three

  SECONDS TURNED INTO minutes and my blood pressure was still elevated. This was ridiculous—but I was beginning to understand why. It was because, unlike the rest of my life, this was something I had zero control over. My mind thought back to a year or so when I used to do yoga, and I remembered the concept of letting go—and deep breathing.

  So I closed my eyes and took enough deep breaths that my mind and body went to a calmer place. Then I looked at the cameraman. “How long do you suppose this is going to take?”

  He lowered the camera a little so I could see his eyes. “You know I’m not supposed to talk to you, Claire.”

  I pursed my lips, trying to stop a smile from covering my face. We were on a first-name basis, apparently, but I was at a disadvantage because I didn’t know his name. “Cat never mentioned that in the rules.”

  “She said to pretend we’re not here. Isn’t that enough?”

  I shrugged my right shoulder. “Not if you like to push the boundaries.”

  “Well, it’s against the rules of the crew—and I could get fired—so stop talking to me.”

  “Fine. Sheesh.”

  At least I felt a little better.

  But as the clock started ticking again, I found myself agonizing. I questioned myself again. I liked all four of the guys, and I knew the guy who won would have a great chance to really wine and dine me…but I had no idea which man I wanted. That shouldn’t have been stressing me out, but it was. Maybe it was because I was in this little microcosm of life removed from reality, and my brain had to find something to focus on.

  I only knew I didn’t want to pick up that impossible puzzle again.

  Fortunately, I heard Cat’s heels clicking as they came up the hallway once more. When she entered the room, she said, “We have a winner.”

  My heart started beating faster again—and, suddenly, I imagined it would be Darius.

  Why would I think that?

  I took a deep breath as I realized that maybe I liked him more than the other three men.

  Seriously? I hadn’t seen that coming…

  And this was a hell of a time to be thinking that. But, more than the reasons not to, I still wondered why. Now, though, I was excited—and I could try to be patient. Cat moved out of the doorway and Gabe entered. I smiled at him. Yes, I really liked Gabe. We could have a hell of a hot date. But then Thomas walked in, followed by Grayson and, finally, Darius.

  What the hell?

  But then I realized that was the whole point of the show—drama. And this was dramatic. Bring in all the guys and then tell me. Of course.

  “Claire, your date will not be with Gabe…nor will it be with Thomas.” I could almost hear a drumroll in my head as Cat continued her torture. “The winner of today’s challenge is…Grayson. He completed his entire puzzle before time was up. He was followed by Darius, who was close. Maybe we should have shortened the time for the puzzle.”

  Thomas all but snorted. “No, because some of us would have needed that time and still not gotten done.”

  Cat, classy and unruffled but insincere, said, “So sorry.” But then she addressed the entire group once more. “Losers, you will get a lunch date as planned but, now that there are four of you instead of five, we’re going to do it a little differently. Now you can have an actual lunch date during the day time—but the time you spend with Claire will be based on how far you got on your puzzles. So, Gabe, you didn’t get as far as the other gentlemen, which means your lunch date is tomorrow. You get to spend an hour and a half with Claire. Start thinking of what kind of date you’d like to take her on.”

  Cat turned to Thomas. “Your date is second, and you’ll be taking Claire to lunch on Sunday. You get two hours with the lady. That leaves us with Darius, and you get to take Claire to lunch on Monday. You’ll have two and a half hours with her.

  “But, Grayson, as the winner, you can spend any time with Claire from Tuesday night at six PM until Wednesday morning at eight AM. You don’t have to spend that entire time span with her—after all, absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? But you have the potential.

  “We’ve added a little twist, though, guys. We want you to all practice inviting Claire on a date. To that end, we’ve installed phones in your rooms. Don’t think you can start calling your friends in the outside world, though, because these are like hotel phones without the option of dialing out. You are each allowed one phone call per day—you can call anyone here, including one button for the crew, and they’re instructed to give you dating advice: tips, suggestions for romantic dates, that kind of thing. Claire, you are also allowed one call per day if you so wish. If you call the crew, they can talk to you about almost anything—just ask.

  “The catch? You have to call Claire and ask her out on a date. If she’s not in her room, she’ll have a blinking light letting her know you called. If she pushes the button to return the call, she doesn’t use up her personal call but instead uses yours. You can continue trying to call her if you like. Now, as a last resort, if you can’t reach her, let the crew know and we’ll arrange another way, but I suspect Claire will be quite willing to speak with each of you.” I nodded my head and smiled at each of the men. Yes, I would. I didn’t know that I was excited about having the biggest date with Grayson, but he’d won fair and square—and we had a lot of fun during our last date, so I had to have faith.

  “Last but not least—there is no saving up your phone calls. Use it or lose it. Guys, you can even call each other to talk strategy or shoot the breeze.”

  Gabe muttered to Grayson, “Doesn’t mean you gotta call Claire once a day, bro. I’m just tellin’ ya.” I couldn’t read Grayson’s expression, but I got the feeling he didn’t want or need unsolicited advice. Gabe didn’t seem to notice, because he looked over at me and said, “Women like mystery.”

  I giggled, feeling my eyebrows raise on my forehead, but I didn’t say a word. Gabe was probably right, but I really did want to get to know these guys. There was enough mystery among us all—and keeping secrets wouldn’t make for a good long-term partnership.

  “Any questions?”

  Because we didn’t, we all shuffled out of the room. Thomas said, “I want to know why Gabe gets to go out with Claire first again. You’re always gonna be her first date, dude.”

  “Yeah, none of you guys are gonna be able to live up to my dates with Claire.” He could have been right about that. I remembered our first date together in the park. It was lovely and I discovered quickly he was a hell of a kisser. “That’s my plan, and I’ll gladly lose the challenge to go first. I’m gonna ruin you all for her.”

  I hoped he didn’t mean that about always wanting to go first, because I wanted to try a long romantic date with him. But I realized maybe he was saying that just to save face. And I was equally excited by the prospect that Gabe was going to do his damnedest to give me a special date every time. What did he have in store for me this time—and what about the other three men?

  * * *

  I shouldn’t have been surprised when Grayson called me first, but he amazed me. I thought he might be the most nervous about it.

  It turned out he was the most nervous, but that was why he chose to call sooner rather than later—to get it over with. I didn’t have an issue with that, even though he maybe shouldn’t have said it. “Anyway, I wanted to know if you would like to go out on a date Tuesday night.”

  “Of course, I would. What do you have planned?”

  It was short but a long enough pause that I could feel the hesitation. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

 

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