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griffin
The next day, all of us contestants gather around the lobby, strewn over the hotel’s elaborate furniture. The floors are so glossy that I can see my reflection in them.
I’m seated next to new accomplice, Vivianna Woods, my arm strewn over the back of our sofa. She, on the other hand, is sitting pin-straight to avoid making any unnecessary contact with me, in the most conspicuous way possible. We haven’t gotten the chance to speak much since our texts yesterday night.
To Vivianna’s left is Dominic, who gave her a wave when he walked in, and on my other side is Marco, who had given her a half-smile and nod on his way into the lobby. They’ve got their eyes on her in more ways than one, and I’m not having it.
Saanvi’s on the opposite end of the couch next to Dominic, and Ramona seated on the arm of the chair, her legs over Saanvi’s.
Esme, Brody, Everleigh and Wyatt are crushed into the sofa adjacent to us. Esme and Brody’s thighs touch. Fleur’s perched onto the arm of the armchair where Fernanda’s seated criss-cross. Richard’s got his own armchair and has one leg thrown across its arm.
Aiden arrives late and plops between Brody and Esme. Swear the guy wouldn’t recognize a social cue if it slapped him across the face.
Zander and Imogen are perched onto an armchair that should sit one, but are keeping a respectable inch between them, trying to avoid scaring away their top choices. But they look close already. Mad close. Maybe it’s only obvious to Vivianna and I. Others will probably just chalk it up to flirty personalities. The other guys might take Zander’s relationship with Imogen as a challenge, instead of being swayed. Good luck to them.
Vivi seems physically anxious, although she probably isn’t aware how obvious it is. I can physically see her gears turning, and I raise an eyebrow once she looks up in my eyes again, brown eyes pensive and analytical. We seem to be on the same page about nearly everybody and what their angle is. As much as we can be, anyway. Anything could happen.
The Amadors walk into the lobby, arm in arm. Mila’s in a sundress and Philip’s in a polo and shorts. They look good, magazine-ready as usual. I actually don’t know how old the two are. Vivi mentioned the fact that they’ve been hosting reality dating shows for at least twenty years, but I don’t see a gray strand in sight.
They tell us we’ll be going on dates with people who mutually requested us. After dinner last night, we voted on little tablets on our top three. All I can remember is voting Vivi first. I’m a man of my word. The woman in question bites onto her bottom lip as the Amadors announce our choices.
Most people get at least two mutual dates, some get one. No one gets zero. There’s at least one person who finds them as interesting or attractive as they find them. Which I guess softens the rejection of choosing someone who didn’t choose you. Some look disappointed, especially at the mention of Esme’s top choices. Brody couldn’t give a shit. He’s thrilled to be one of the three, and Esme winks at him.
Vivi stiffens when Marco and Dominic’s top choices are announced. Ramona and Fleur are the first two declared for Marco. I’m assuming Vivi’s the third, but I can’t get a read on the Marco fella. Sure enough, Fernanda is Marco’s third choice.
Then Marco mouths sorry at her. Which is vaguely condescending and I almost snort, but keep it in, because Vivi’s visibly uncomfortably, slightly embarrassed. Which, come on, the guy’s hairline is too low on his forehead. And he’s got one of those smug faces. I don’t know what he said to charm her in like 30 seconds, but I doubt it was anything impressive.
Dominic’s after him and has Saanvi and Ramona as his top two, but Vivi’s name comes up third, and he flashes her a shiny grin.
Then it’s my turn. I clear my throat, stand up. Like I’d promised, Vivianna’s my first choice, followed by the other two.
Our dates with our mutual choice—or choices— will begin within the next couple of hours. With peoples’ mutual choices announced, all the contestants are dismissed.
Vivi seems to be on a mission. It’s hard to get a hold of a girl who walks like her skirt’s on fire. On our way out of the lobby, I finally catch hold of her, carefully grabbing her hand in front of the grand staircase, just like before. Then, ignoring her indignant sputter, I pull her a little ways up the stairs, where we’re shielded from curious eyes, cameras and mics.
“Good luck on your date,” I say, finally letting go of her hand. “Don’t get too carried away and let Dominic woo you or anything.”
I snort. “You too, Griff. Don’t get too carried away with those pretty girls.” I almost forget who she’s talking about. Then I remember Fernanda and Esme are going to be my dates. Which I definitely need to put back in the forefront of my mind if I’m gonna look convincing when I do go out with them. Speed-dating wasn’t bad. Esme and Fernanda are both kind of funny, but I’m not walking out with either of them. And Vivi is funnier anyway, but in that very unintentional way.
“Alright,” I grin, and I swear she folds, before catching herself and straightening. The dimple’s there. Am I doing this on purpose? Maybe. We got a plan to carry out, and it’ll be a lot easier to stick to if all she’s thinking about are my dimples when she goes on a date with Dom. “Tell me how it goes.”
She gives me a funny look. “Is that what we’re doing now?”
Well, yes.
“I’ll let you know too.” In my defense.
“Do I really want to be informed of all the pickup lines you’re using?”
“Yes you do,” I don’t miss a beat.
“Funny,” she says, which I am. “I’m gonna go.” She says, smoothing out her fit and offering me a dry grin.
“You need the tips!” I say, hand cupping my mouth all exaggeratedly. A few people glance our way.
She freezes in her steps, then whips around to send me the coldest look known to mankind.
My grin widens.
I think she’s warming up to me.