When I look over at Marcus, I find that instead of admiring the view, he’s staring at me.
“You’re so beautiful, Olivia.”
I have a healthy opinion of my appearance, but I can’t believe he’s choosing to watch me instead of the beauty of Mother Nature at one of her peak moments. My heart swells in my chest, and I squeeze his hand as I look into his eyes.
I am a princess in a fairy tale.
When Marcus leans in to kiss me, I can imagine telling our kids about this moment someday. He smells good and his technique is nice, but I’m suddenly aware of the cameramen circling in closer. They must be trying to get this kiss from different angles, but it can’t be easy when we’re next to a wall by the overlook.
Marcus strokes my cheek and I kiss him back, but the moment is lost and he can tell. “That was nice,” he says, as he pulls away.
I murmur agreement and look back at the scenic view. I might be putting too much pressure on the kiss, but I didn’t really feel anything. The fancy clothes and the perfect setting probably have my expectations flying way too high. I barely know him yet, after all.
He kissed me at the first commitment ceremony too, but it was hard to judge that kiss with all of the pressure of the eliminations weighing on me. Maybe dating on TV isn’t as romantic as it’s made to look.
“It sure is beautiful here,” I say, as we both watch the warm colors of the sky slowly change. He’s standing behind me, with his arms loosely wrapped around me, and I imagine this is going to make a really nice scene when they put together footage of our date. I think we look well-suited for one another.
“I looked up your hometown. It’s beautiful there too,” Marcus says.
“It is. But it’s so different from here.”
“It’s completely flat where I live,” he says.
“Oh, yeah?”
“There’s no ocean, either, but it’s a really nice town. The people are very friendly.”
“I’ll bet they’re excited that you’re on TV.”
We talk about our towns as we watch the sun sink lower and lower, and then we fall silent for a few moments as the last few burning traces of it disappear behind the hillside. “Are you hungry?” Marcus asks eventually.
“Sure.”
With my hand in his, he leads us around a corner to the most romantic setting I’ve ever seen. There’s a single table in the middle of the terrace – a table for two set with pink roses and white candles. There’s a fireplace built into the low wall just past the table, and dozens of candles set all around the flagstone. A short distance away, a string quartet is playing a gentle tune.
He holds out my chair for me, and pours our wine – he’s the perfect date and I’m so glad I chose him to be the first.
Plates of food are preset on the table, but when I pick up my knife and fork, Natalie appears. “You don’t really have to eat, Olivia. It’s just there for appearances.”
The food – pork tenderloin in some kind of brown sauce and crispy, diced potatoes – smells good and appears to be freshly prepared. “Is it safe to eat?” I ask her.
“There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I’m going to have some,” I say. “I assume you’ll edit out any shots of me with food in my mouth?”
“Of course,” she confirms before retreating into the distance.
Marcus hesitates for a moment, but then joins me after I take my first bite. It’s delicious and it would have been a shame not to enjoy it. As a fan of the show, it’s always bugged me to see food sit untouched on these dates.
I eat slowly and am mindful to take long pauses between bites for conversation so the editors won’t have a hard time putting together footage from the dinner.
“What made you come on the show?” I ask Marcus.
“The same reason I’ve heard you say. I’m ready for a serious relationship and I haven’t found the right person in my small town.”
“And what kind of person are you looking for?”
He gives me a long look in response, telling me with his eyes that I’m what he’s looking for. “Someone smart and funny, someone who’s kind and likes to have fun. How about you?”
“I don’t really have a type, or a checklist,” I say. “I want a man who makes me smile. I guess I just think when you know, you know.”
He nods in agreement, and I’m pleased at my answer. Unfortunately, I do have a type – dangerous-looking bad boys – but I’m working hard to change that. Marcus isn’t my usual type, but he could be. He should be.
He seems like someone who would make soup for me when I’m sick. I can see us living in a house with a white picket fence and a dog. He’s the type of guy you start a family with.