CHAPTERFIFTEEN
London
I’m dressed in a tux, and the contestants will be in costumes.
Fuck it.
“The contestants will be hauled in on a hayride and then led to you one by one,” Sal explains. “You will be introduced, and the contestants will get their pictures taken. They will go back to their assigned cabins to change into casual clothes. After this, you can put on your jeans and boots. I know you’re missing them.” Sal chuckles, clearly having fun at my expense.
“And the tasks?”
“Well, I thought we’d start early. They’ll get up and do your chores, kind of,” Sal goes on. “Tomorrow is the tractor race. The crew is setting up rain stations so the field will be muddy. They’ll have to race down to the end of the field and back, after taking bales of hay off the trailers they’re pulling. There will be posts to mark where to drop them—Shane okayed that—and the water will be on, as they have to connect the trailer. They’ll work in teams.”
“Sounds good.” Not that it really sounds good, but what else am I going to say?
“You will have one date tomorrow. The team that wins will have to vote on who should have the date,” he informs me, and my first thought is, This is all too much to take in right now. “In case they all vote for themselves, Carlton will just choose a name.”
“All right,” I grumble. “I guess . . . let’s get this show on the road.”
Memphis and the others are standing off to the side. He waves, offering support.
I didn’t lie—this is just for show. The ones I want aren’t here right now. I understand why. If I have to be miserable for a few weeks, at least I’ll be fed. And I can cuddle at night.
“You ready?” Carlton asks me.
“I guess so.” I give him a weak smile. It’s the best I can do under the circumstances.
“Well, it’s showtime.” He claps me on the back and steps aside.
“Action,” Sal yells.
“Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome back to another season of Chicken Fried Love. London Hernandez is the bachelor for this season. London is a retired MMA fighter,” Carlton tells the camera and the world. “He owns a gym in town. We like to keep things close to home here on the show. He’s also the first bachelor to have both men and women vying for his ‘love.’ London, are you ready to meet your contestants?”
“I am, Carlton.” I force another smile, but I need to act to play this off.
“Here’s the first one right now,” Carlton says as a woman dressed as a scarecrow approaches. “London, this is Missy.”
“Hey, London.” She giggles.
“Hey.” I smile—again—for the camera as we turn for a picture. If I keep this up, my cheeks will hurt by morning.
“Missy, you’ll get a chance to mingle later. We have nineteen contestants to go,” Carlton tells her, and she moves on.
The next person I’m introduced to is a smaller man, good looking, only much shorter than me. His name is Rudi.
“Nice to meet you, London.” He shakes my hand, and we pose for a picture.
“Likewise.”
The next girl is Aspen. My sister. She’s here to listen, be my eyes and ears. I know it’s deceiving to the others, and Sal loves drama, but I want to know what the women really think of me liking men. I don’t want someone to leave and tarnish my name. Not that I should really care, since I’m retired, living a quiet life in the country.
“London, this is Afton.” I look up to see the face of my high school boyfriend, the one I went to prom with.
“Holy shit,” I mutter.
“Hi, London.” As soon as he approaches, he hugs me.
“Um . . .” I’m at a loss for words. I don’t think I even hug him back. Shock. That’s what it is.