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vivianna
My ex’s presence in the same room as me despite the fact that we’re all the way across the country— partially to get away from him— leaves me frozen in place, my drink, thankfully, still in hand.
Ramona wanders off to talk to a random redhead and I simply stand in my spot, like a rock. I doubt Zander has seen me yet, but given how blatantly thunderstruck I am— I wouldn’t be surprised if he sees me soon.
When I see him, all I can think about is the night he dumped me, about how recent it feels now that he’s a walkable distance away from me.
But before I can process anything, a hand grazes my elbow. I assume it’s Ramona again, but when I whip around, I’m in for yet another shocker.
The guy from the plane—Griffin—is standing before me, in all his tall, mythical glory.
The universe must be laughing its ass off right now. This has to be some sort of joke. I want to laugh, solely due to the absurdity of it all. I sway a little, and Griffin’s hand rises to steady me.
He snorts. Even his snorts sound cocky, handling the surprise way better than I am. “Didn’t know the sight of me made you nauseous.”
I couldn’t sum up the energy to laugh at his joke even if I wanted to.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask, eyes wide, and he asks, eyebrows raised.
“You said you were going to a hotel,” I recover first.
“Well,” Griffin says, his black suit emphasizing broad shoulders and a lean build as he moves closer, “This is a hotel,” he gestures around the space.
“This isn’t just a hotel. This is the Lovebound set.”
“Shit, really?” I don’t take kindly to his sass, but I ignore it. He smiles with his dimple, like he’s deliberately trying to interrupt my train of thought. I sure as hell won’t let him. I plow on.
“We were stuck on a plane for 6-and-something hours together.” It’s difficult for me to keep the shock out of my tone. “You could’ve told me.”
“Well, I could say the same thing to you,” he looks terribly amused, teeth white, eyes taunting. Griffin’s voice is melodic, with this rusty cadence to it. It’s inviting, like a warm, crackling fireplace on a chilly day.
“True,” a sigh leaves my lips. Of course, he’s right, “but I would’ve told you if you had told me.” I damn well would’ve. It’s not as big of a deal as I’m acting like it is, but the coincidence is so ridiculous that I know the universe is playing games with me.
I should’ve seen this coming. At this point, my life is one big Hallmark movie, and I do mean that derogatorily.
“Either way, now we’re here,” And the guy shrugs, like nothing actually matters, just the way he did on the plane when the airline screwed up our seating plan.
“Now we’re both here,” I repeat, steadying myself once his hands leave my arms. I shake my head. “Just saw someone I used to know from the city too. This is insane.”
“It’s a small world,” Griffin says. His hands find the small of my back, gently guiding me forward as the rest of our group surges toward the dinner table.
A shiver travels down my spine, and I mentally chastise myself. A few months without the touch of a man and I become a pathetic puddle at the first one who acknowledges me post-breakup.
All the competitors are now sitting at a large mahogany table, plaques with each person’s full name sat in front of them. I feel Griffin’s whisper a little ways away from my neck. “Nice to see a familiar face, though.”
Griffin can speak for himself. I’m pretty unhappy with all the familiar faces I’m seeing. One in particular, though. No one wants to see their ex in a show where they’re trying to find love. In fact, I’m pretty damn sure that no one wants to see their ex anywhere, ever.
It’s easier that way, I think, as I settle down on a chair and Griffin pulls up next to me.
My eyes stay on my cutlery and neatly-folded linen napkin.
Griffin is devastatingly attractive in a suit. I mean, come on, the guy managed to look like Men’s Health’s Sexiest Man Alive in an old henley a few hours ago.
And it’s more than obvious by the way the women look at him. He’s undeniably a looker, and I imagine he moved up several spaces on everyone’s mental list without even trying.
I’m only half-enamored with Griffin, because the moment my eyes drift away, they meet my ex’s.
Zander’s eyes rest on me for a second, brown and analytical. Then they flick away, because everything about this is beyond awkward.
However, the moment is quickly cut short by Mila and Philip Amador who stride into the room arm in arm, Philip’s peony-pink tie matching Mila’s full-length dress. Their entrance is rewarded with applause, and a notable absence of analyzing.
“Welcome to Lovebound!”
More applause.
Mila and Philip give us the low-down of the rules. They work together like a well-oiled machine, navigating around each other whether moving or talking.
I replay the rules in my head.
Us contestants will start off with speed-dating, we’ll pick our one and only, and then we’ll have to compete challenges with our partner, all while surviving in a villa with all the other contestant couples.
Our goal? Make it to the end and get that $100,000 prize pot. Meaning that each couple has to charm the viewers as much as possible, in order to avoid elimination.
“Now,” Mila says, clasping her hands together. “To get to know everyone better, each person should tell us a little bit about themselves.”
“So,” Philip says with a smile, “who’s going first?”
No one raises their hand for a few good seconds, and Philip Amador lets out a good-natured laugh. Mila Amador suggests a wheel of fortune, that’ll choose the order for us. Before anyone can be volunteered by either of our hosts, a guy raises his hand.
“I’ll go.”
At his voice, I’m forced to look at Zander who has that self-satisfied smile on his face. He makes eye contact with almost everyone as he begins to introduce himself.
“I’m Zander. I’m a business development manager from Manhattan, and a lot of people might say I’ve got a pretty big personality.” Most people laugh at that. “And I’m excited to have this experience. Let’s go.” He whoops. And other guys do as well, some brunet next to Zander giving him a high five.
“So,” Griffin starts under his breath from where he’s seated to my right, “I’m guessing we don’t like that guy?”
Realizing just how tensed up I am by Griffin’s soft breaths on my skin, I force my shoulders to relax.
All eyes are on Zander, and no one takes note of me, of the way I freeze. Clearly, Griffin has taken it upon himself to notice everything, like some hawk. No one has ever called me expressive, like Griffin claimed I was on the plane earlier today.
I’m not exactly an open book. People have to slow down, pay real close attention if they want to decode my emotions. Some won’t bother. It’s just the way it is.
When Zander and I were dating, he’d rarely sense my silent simmering, and if he did, he wouldn’t be able to pin what exactly was pissing me off.
When we went on our first date Zander had called me an enigma. It seemed flirtatious then, like he thought I was cute and complex.
On one of our last dates, he’d said it again, but this time, he seemed frustrated, annoyed. I was upset about having to put down a family’s dog. It was awful. Their kid was wailing. I was trying not to ruin the date, so I didn’t talk about it. Zander called my silent behavior aggy, alongside confusing.
Before I can utter a hushed reply to Griffin, the girl to Zander’s left begins to introduce herself. She’s a vivacious redhead with rosy cheeks. “I’m Imogen.” She gives us a little wave. “I’m a sales manager and a small business owner back home in Connecticut, I’m expanding my shoe business into New York, as well, and I’m super excited to be here right now.”
I spot about five guys who already have an eye on Imogen, a handsome black-haired guy and Zander included.
Competing with Imogen, here, is going to be hell. She’s probably on her way to buying a house, what with the confidence and positivity she exudes. I don’t think anyone should be that happy in this economy. She’s so put together. It’s awful.
My eyes flick over the ogling guys to Griffin at my right. He’s got the image of ease, but there’s a small tick in his jaw that was absent before Imogen started speaking. This “small world” might be even smaller than I thought. What are the chances that there are two sets of exes here? One coincidence is one thing, two is absurd, I can’t lie.
I lean close to Griffin and drop my voice. “So, I’m guessing we don’t like that girl?” I poke a tongue in my cheek afterward to avoid laughing.
Griffin doesn’t reply, and I hum. In the grand scheme of things, I don’t actually know that Imogen and Griffin have any history, but I recognize that intentionally blank look that crosses Griffin’s face when he looks at her.
The introductions breeze by after that. The Ramona girl that I met before is a pharmacist from Philly who also happens to work as a part-time makeup artist. Introductions are made rapidly. There’s Saanvi who works as a nutritionist, Aiden, who works as a data scientist.
There’s soft-spoken Fleur St. Louis who is an artist and full-time teacher, and a Midwestern guy named Wyatt Hutchins who owns a dealership. There’s Fernanda Ferreira who works in human resources and does dance, and cocky Marco Rivera, who’s a lawyer.
There’s Everleigh Fleming, who’s a nurse from the Midwest that has a permanent tight grin on her face, and Dominic Jones, serene and unbothered, who’s an accountant from here.
There’s Richard Miller, who’s an actor with a dad I swear has directed some big hits, and Brody Turner who’s a real estate developer and was definitely a frat boy in college based on his loud laughs, excessive requests for beer and quarterback build.
Lastly, there’s Esme Yoon, the influencer and socialite with tanned skin and blonde highlights, who I recognize from social media.
Griffin is thrown somewhere in the mix— Griffin Andrews, according to his own plaque—and apparently, he’s a firefighter who has played soccer since he could kick a ball, both of which definitely explain why he’s built better than Apollo.
I get to introduce myself before Griffin as a veterinarian who enjoys reading. I’m sure a guy dozes off during my monologue. I’m also nearly certain that Esme and Everleigh exchange an amused look. It’s all I can do to avoid walking right out of the hotel and grabbing the first flight back home.
Somehow, I’m making it through the dinner. Everyone very obviously assesses each person as they introduce themselves. People are paying attention to everything; hair length, hair color, name, demeanor. When people mention properties and businesses, I can practically see the others mentally ticking off Future Partner Expectations.
At the end of the day, we’re all selling ourselves, playing the game even though filming hasn’t officially started yet. The speed-dating phase of Lovebound will give us an opportunity to see if other peoples’ personalities mesh with ours, our hosts say after everyone’s been introduced.
The Amadors explain that the day after tomorrow, the speed-dating process will begin. During the speed-dating phase, each person must choose their top three dates. Then we’ll go on dates with whichever of those top three were mutual. Later on, we’ll have to choose the one we want to move on with.
With that, the Amadors leave us to eat and silently judge each other across the table. Esme snaps just about a million and a half pictures of her food and of herself, although, according to the Amadors, she can’t post them until filming officially starts.
Ramona’s seated far away from me, so we don’t get to talking again. Fernanda’s seated at my left, and she chats me up a bit before she moves on to Fleur, who’s seated to her left. I feel Griffin’s presence next to me, but I can’t think of anything witty or clever to say.
We exchange a few looks, Griffin raising his eyebrows and grinning at me, whenever he’s not being pulled into conversation by Esme, who’s seated across from him.
The food’s not bad. I have calamari as an appetizer and a chicken alfredo penne pasta for the main meal. Then, I dig into one of the chocolate lava cakes the hotel serves for dessert, and barely get through it.
As I eat, I do my best to inconspicuously watch my fellow contestants.
The biggest thing I notice is all the flirting going on. Esme’s flirting with Griffin and Brody– or maybe it just sounds like she is because her voice is honey-like and naturally teasing. I’ve gotta admit; I respect the art. The guys reciprocate, to varying extents. Whether it’s flirting back or nods of encouragement, they keep up with her.
What’s more is that Zander and Imogen seem to be flirting. It’s not as obvious as Esme’s flirting with the guys, but they’re constantly speaking in low tones to each other, Imogen laughing at something Zander’s saying every so often. And I know it’s gotta be flirting, because Zander was no comedian when we were dating.
Dinner can’t end quickly enough. I haven’t set my sights on anyone yet, but I figure I’ll know them soon enough when the speed-dating starts. I’m not looking forward to my date with Zander, and I definitely don’t know—nor am I sure I want to know— what seems to be going on between him and Imogen.
The two talk like they’re familiar, interact like they’ve met before. I don’t know how to quite explain it. There’s a secretive and yet comfortable way people interact when they know each other, when they’ve hung out on more than one occasion. Zander and Imogen exude that familiarity, and the fact leaves a sinking feeling in my stomach, even though it shouldn’t.
I rise to my feet as everyone else does, plates empty and voices tipsy.
The contestants surge past me, and I hover in the lobby, taking my sweet time on my way out, as the area clears. I don’t exactly want to get stuck in the elevator with everyone else. These people are still strangers.
I’m standing by the grand staircase, debating on taking the elevator or the stairs when my elbow is grabbed.
I recognize Griffin’s touch this time. His hand is calloused, firm. He spins me around, so I’m facing him. We go still as the last few contestants pass us by, and as soon as they’re gone, Griffin’s eyes lock onto mine.
“Anyone catch your eye?”
The forwardness of the question throws me off. “I mean, some of the guys are cute. But...” I don’t want to say it outright, that this love thing probably isn’t for me anyway, and that having my ex on the show threw me off center even more, if that’s possible.
I don’t know how to say I have no idea how to navigate new relationships since my last one ended up in the gutter. Or I just don’t want to tell him. Because again, coincidences aside, we don’t actually know each other.
“But?”
“I don’t know. How about you?” I deflect, chewing on my bottom lip.
He shrugs. “Not really. I mean, I don’t see myself falling in love with anyone here in 4 weeks.”
“I’m sure women here are plenty interested.”
“Interest isn’t reliable. And I don’t know about you, but I want something reliable. Or nothing.”
“I didn’t know you were coming here to settle down.” The couples here never really last, I’m sure we all knew that going in, even if people have tried to convince themselves otherwise, Griffin doesn’t read as someone who would be easily deluded.
“Not that,” he says. “I mean, that I want to win.”
“Okay?” I’m trying to follow.
“We know each other, right?”
“Not really.”
“Enough to help each other out.”
“I didn’t know we were on a favor basis.”
Griffin shakes his head. “I mean, that if I read the room correctly, you don’t seem to have a lot of faith in getting hitched.” At the sight of my face, he quickly adds, “me neither.”
“What’re you getting at?” I ask.
“We should team up.”
I blink. “Team up?”
“It’s strategic: create our love story and sell it. Make it to the end.” His voice drops. “Get that cash prize.”
My eyebrows rise. “You don’t want to fall-in-love? Esme Yoon was giving you eyes,” I add, thinking back to dinner.
“You might not have noticed, but I was bored as hell throughout. I nod a ton when I’m trying to be nice. Just because I’m polite, doesn’t mean I’m interested.”
A cackle leaves my lips. I can’t help it. “Polite? Now who told you that?” The guy has had nothing but audacity since I met him. Let’s be serious.
Griffin pokes his tongue through his cheek. “You’re such a smart-ass. And so, so cynical.” The emphasis on the second “so” makes it feel as though I’m a book he’s opened up and decided to read out loud to himself. Like he knows me.
I don’t know what to say to that, and I don’t know how to feel about this feeling. Griffin continues. “How’d you get on this show in the first place?”
It feels like a jab, like I’m not “marriage material”, which Zander mentioned more times than I ought to have allowed during our relationship. But Griffin seems earnest, like he’s reading himself as much as he’s reading me.
“It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“Well, how about we both get something out of it?” He licks his bottom lip. “All we have to do is put on a show for our adoring audience.”
“Why me?” My eyebrows scrunch together.
Griffin exhales a breath. “Everyone else seems committed to this idea of falling in love during the Lovebound process. Or maybe they have a plan of their own. (As though ninety percent of the couples haven’t broken up right after the show). And I can tell you’re over it. You looked like you were planning your escape during dinner.”
Since I can’t lie, I cross my arms. “Well, it’s not every day you run into your ex at a reality dating show.” I pause. “It’s the Zander guy we apparently don’t like. Blond buzz cut in dire need of purple shampoo?”
“Kind of arrogant look to him?” Griffin adds. I almost smile.
“That’d be him.”
Griffin laughs. “No shit he’s your ex.”
“I know, hilarious.” I say. I hope the animosity wasn’t that obvious and I can just chalk this up to Griffin’s uncanny ability to perceive me. “How about Imogen? Two can play that game, buddy.”
For a second, Griffin’s grin slips. “I won’t confirm or deny that.” He trills his lips. That’s unnecessarily ominous, and essentially an admission. “Either way. It’s clear that neither of us have any plans of falling in love. But it’d be a shame to lose all that money.”
It’s not unheard of for couples on Lovebound to fake it to the end. There’ve been couples who people speculate broke up early on in the process, but stayed together to get the prize pot. There’ve been rumors about couples who were dating before the show— which I could bet my money Zander and Imogen are doing, knowing Zander— and just partially-acted their asses off until they got their check.
A lot of the rumors are he said she said, but none of the stories would surprise me if they actually did end up being true. And being here, seeing Zander— it was like I deflated, like it dawned on me just how stupid and rash my decision to join Lovebound was, all those months ago.
“You said you were a vet?” Griffin asks, interrupting my thoughts. He’s leaning against the banister of the staircase. “You work at a clinic, right? What could 100,000 dollars do for the clinic? For charity? For you?”
I hum, allowing his suggestion to marinate. “50K, you mean,” I say. “Assuming we’re planning on splitting it.”
Griffin’s grin grows sharper and wider than it was just seconds ago. “Right. 50K apiece sounds good to me.”
“Well,” I think out loud. “The money could help with better facilities at the clinic, marketing.” I also borrowed a huge loan to open up my own practice in the first place. With that money, I could pay it off quicker, or save it up for a better apartment. 50K can change someone’s life. My life for sure.
“Holy shit. You’re practically drooling, Vivi,” Griffin’s hazel eyes are delighted.
“Shut up,” I say, waving him away. “Why do you want the money so bad?”
“For starters, I’d like to get myself a place that isn’t a literal packed cardboard box.”
He surprises a laugh out of me.
“Rewarding as it may be, firefighting doesn’t pay the big bucks,” he plows on, lips curving upward at my cackles.
“Fine,” I say. “You’re valid.”
“Good,” he replies, “because if you’re not planning on falling in love, I want you on my team.” He bites his bottom lip. “Bonus: you get to spite that Zander guy.”
I wanted to keep Zander completely out of mind during this discussion, but the guy has a way of worming his way back into the conversation all the time.
Griffin and his plan are becoming increasingly irresistible. I’m assuming he uses both to his advantage. For one, the dinner wasn’t great, really. It simply reminded me of how useless I am in the dating scene. I haven’t had a boyfriend since Zander, and before him, I hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school. I don’t know where to start.
What I do know is that I could either walk out of this show single and broke, or I could play my cards right and walk out of this show single and rich, with a potential partner in crime.
The latter sounds far more enticing. Better yet, I don’t actually know Griffin, so I don’t have to worry about any awkward tension due to history, or any strings attached. I don’t think I’ve made a smart decision since signing up for this show, but this could be it. Griffin and I might have a shot, or we might not.
But at this point, I’m willing to give it a go. There’s more to gain than there is to lose, and Griffin makes a good case.
Griffin holds out his hand, sensing that he’s got me. His head dips, dark waves falling in front of his eyes before he flicks them away.
I take his hand, let that zap travel through my entire body at the contact. My eyes flick up to find his.
“You know what?” I say. “Screw it.”
Griffin’s eyes glint as he returns the handshake. “We’ve got a deal?”
I muster up far more confidence than I possess in my tone.
“We’ve got a deal.”