“You’re with me now,” I point out.
Marcus reels himself in with seeming effort. “You’re right, of course, and it’s as wonderful as always to be in your presence.” He takes my hand and rubs his thumb across the back of it.
“It’s just … I care for you, Olivia, and I hate the thought of you with other men. I know that’s what I signed up for, coming here, but I can’t help but wish I had you to myself.”
I feel a twinge of sympathy. How would I feel if I were falling in love with a man who was dating twenty women at once? “I’m sure it’s difficult.”
“Thanks for understanding.” He squeezes my hand as Gerard comes over. Since he’s the other man I need to ask about social media, I excuse myself to Marcus, who walks away with a pained smile.
“We haven’t had too many chances to talk yet,” Gerard says.
“No, it’s tricky with so many people. Are you having a good time?”
He nods and grins. “It’s an experience. That’s for sure.”
“Why did you come on the show?” I ask.
“I’m looking for love,” he says without missing a beat. “My parents have a great marriage, and I want to have that kind of relationship with someone.”
“Being a contestant must be good for your social media.”
He looks baffled, then shrugs. “I don’t really do much social media.”
“Really? I’d think you’d have a cooking channel, or at least post photos of you cooking, stuff like that.”
“It’s not really my thing, to be honest. I’d rather be cooking than taking pictures of myself.” He sounds sincere, and my gut says he’s telling the truth, but part of me is still wary.
The more I get to know these men, the more trouble I’m having eliminating any. Before the show started, I thought I’d have an easy time narrowing down my list, but it’s not working out that way at all. So many of the men, including Gerard, have impressed me.
The rest of the cocktail party is uneventful. I circulate among the men, talking, firming up my impressions of them. I have a pretty good idea of which ones I’ll be sending home, but I want to be sure I’m not missing any diamonds in the rough.
True to his word, Johnny doesn’t get drunk or otherwise make a spectacle of himself. He’s very well behaved, right up to the point when he pulls me aside for a mini makeout session. I don’t let it last long, but it’s enough to remind me of all my sexual frustration.
I’m so conflicted about Johnny. I really can’t see myself settling down with him, but I don’t seem to be able to resist him, either. Or is that the producers’ influence talking?
The commitment ceremony is not quite as tense as the previous ones, at least for me. They only had to take me through a brief rehearsal, and I’m confident in my choices.
I read out the names, with the required dramatic pauses, and then it’s over, and the men who are leaving come to say their goodbyes. Once again, none of them seem heartbroken to be going, and I feel good that my instincts have so far been on target. I hope they’ll continue to serve me well.
After the ceremony, Natalie hustles over and takes me aside. “Why don’t you take Johnny on your next one-on-one date? He’s got more social media commentary than any of the other men. The public loves you two together.”
Even if I didn’t have doubts about Johnny, her attitude would put me off. I’m here to search for something real, not to make the viewers happy. I know the network has to care about that, but it can’t be my top priority. “The one-on-ones are my choice,” I remind her.
“Oh, come on. You want to. I can tell.” She gives me a conspiratorial, just-us-girls smile. “I saw how you responded to him the night he came over. You almost let him stay, and you didn’t even try to send him home tonight. What does that say about your feelings for him?”
It says you’ve been pressuring me to keep him, I think. But Natalie’s right, of course, that my attraction to Johnny is real. I wish I could make an emergency call to Bianca to get her advice.
As soon as the thought enters my mind, I know what she’d say. She’d steer me away from Johnny, because I know in my gut that he’s not the one. She’d tell me not to waste my one-on-one dates, because I get so few of them before I have to narrow things down to my final three men.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Natalie. “I know the public likes him, but I can’t choose my solo dates for entertainment value. I want my next one-on-one to be with Xavier.”
Natalie shrugs, not seeming as displeased as I’d expected. “Whatever you say, Olivia.” I’m left wondering what she really thinks.