“Let’s talk about who you’d like to keep,” she says, as we stand in front of the photos. “It looked like you hit it off with Samuel.”
There’s no bowtie in his picture, but there is the same warm, sexy grin. “Yes, definitely.”
She plucks his headshot off the board and reattaches it in the empty area on the left. Apparently, the photos are attached with Velcro. “Okay. Who else?”
I scan the handsome faces before me, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m embarrassed to say this, but I only recognize maybe half of the pictures. Are you sure these are all the same men I just met?”
Natalie laughs sympathetically. “Yes, they are, and don’t worry. You’re doing great if you remember half. Many women recognize far fewer than that.”
Standing in front of the board, I feel like I’m an executive in a strategic planning session, or a coach preparing plays for a game. My eyes bounce around to the men in leather with tattoos, to Johnny with his eyeliner, and Xavier with those long lashes. “Bad boy types are my weakness,” I tell Natalie. “Maybe I should get rid of all of them now so that I can focus on the stable men.”
I tap the photos of the men in question and Natalie frowns, biting her lip. “I would caution you not to be so quick to judge a book by its cover. Just because some of them look like bad boys doesn’t mean they’re not looking for a real relationship.”
Natalie may have experience on this show, but I have real life experience with these types of men, and I know what’s not going to work. I start to argue, but she quickly adds, “The main goal is that you find love, but remember we’re also making entertainment. Viewers love the bad boy types too. How about you keep a couple of them around for a while? You’ll have plenty of time to get rid of them before you narrow the field down to your favorites.”
I bite my lower lip. “Okay, but no one-on-one dates with these guys.”
“The one-on-ones are completely your choice,” she says.
With that decided, we start moving men to the keeper column until there are eight marked for elimination. Though looking longer at the pictures and talking with Natalie has helped me to remember more of the men, I honestly don’t recognize five of the eight at all, and I take that as a sign that there were no sparks between us. I choose one of the tatted bad boys to go, and two other men who didn’t seem all that interested in me. There’s no point in wasting their time.
After more hair and makeup touch-ups, I’m escorted back to the wedding altar, where Blake Barrows is waiting for me. He’s on his phone again, where it sounds like he’s talking to someone about the maintenance of his swimming pool, and he still doesn’t acknowledge me until the cameras roll. How hard would it be for him to take five seconds from his busy schedule to say hello to someone he’s going to be working with for the next eight weeks?
As I stand waiting, the men file in, returning to their original order on the lawn, but positioned closer together.
When they’re in place, a director gives the signal, and Blake faces a camera that’s in the center of the aisle. “The time has come for Olivia to commit to the men she’d like to date. Who will she choose, and who will be sent home tonight, their dreams of romancing our leading lady cut short before they’ve even begun?”
He turns to a camera on the left. “Did all of the men get enough time with Olivia to make a good impression? Who will earn more time with her, and who will be leaving us now?” Blake turns to me, his expression solemn. “Whenever you’re ready, Olivia.”
Beside me, there’s a pedestal holding a velvet-covered tray. Lined up on the tray are twenty-two silver rings. Though the presentation makes them look special, the rings are actually lightweight, adjustable bands – toys, not actual jewelry.
In addition to influencing my decision on keeping the bad boys, Natalie and other producers also decided the order of the names that I’ll announce. Thankfully, there’s a crew member holding up cards to prompt me, because there’s no way I could remember all twenty-two names, much less in a particular order.
The first name I’m directed to say is Johnny. If it were up to me, I would be sending that bad boy temptation home tonight, so I’m not thrilled that the producers have me calling on him first, making it seem like he’s my favorite. I hope they’re not going to try to push us together; I’ve always wondered how much the producers influence the relationships, and I’m determined not to let them sway my decisions, though I guess they already are.