Page 20 of His Choice

“Well, Alicia, you’re looking very nice tonight,” Keller said with a grin that was too flirty for my taste…or Mitch’s.

Mitch cleared his throat. “I’m standing right here, Keller.”

Keller swallowed hard, recognizing he’d been too obvious. He put his arm around Mitch’s waist. “It was just an innocent observation. I’m surprised I even noticed with you here beside me.”

Mitch chuckled before patting his boyfriend’s behind and whispering something in his ear. I wasn’t the best at lip-reading, but I had been able to make out the words ‘bullshitter’ and ‘spanking.’ I knew Mitch well enough to know he’d never hurt someone other than in self-defense, so the whole discipline thing must have been a joke or a painless part of their fun-time routine. If it was the latter, it was information I didn’t need to know about my friends.

Simone’s boyfriend, Ezra, approached me and pulled me into an embrace. “Good luck, cousin. Remember, your selection needs to be every bit as good as you are.”

“He can’t choose them all,” Adam added with a snicker. When Myles shot him a scolding look, Adam’s face sobered. “Sorry. I forgot again.”

“You’re setting a bad example, Dad,” Flynt said in a mock-paternal tone, enjoying his chance to reverse the tables.

Adam nodded Flynt’s way in acknowledgment, then walked over and pulled me into a bro hug. He only spoke loud enough for me to hear. “I’ll tell you this once and don’t ever repeat it. I was jealous when Myles and I met you. I was afraid he’d be more attracted to you because you’re so good looking.” He patted my back. “You’ve got this. Go get ’em, bud.”

I was surprised by Adam’s confession, and I hugged him again with gratitude for his admission. “Myles got the right guy, Adam.”

The rest of the group huddled around me and shook my hand, clapped me on the shoulder, or clasped me to them quickly before saying their goodbyes and well wishes.

Once everyone left, my mother turned to me. “You have nice friends.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“The very best people have always been drawn to you. It will become clear on the show who they are, and they’ll come your way, too.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Mom, that almost sounded like cheerleading without an accompanying ass kick.”

“Naturally. You’ll need your ass to be in its best shape during the show,” she replied with a chuckle.

“Eww. Mom!”

She put a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean…for that! I meant to look nice…in pants.” She shook her head. “Speaking of, go put the suit back on. I’ll go change, too, into something less…desperate looking.”

“Mom, I didn’t mean to imply it looked like that,” I protested.

She didn’t appear offended. “Pretty sure you did. It’s fine. I told you, a smart woman never disregards the fashion advice a gay man gives her.”

* * * *

Marv, the director, had walked me through the scene he envisioned taking place under the front portico of the house. Although it was evening, there were enough stage lights around that I’d have no problem making out each suitor’s features as they emerged from a limo to greet me.

“Nervous?” Marv asked.

I feared I must be giving off a vibe. “Sorry. A little.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he replied. I nodded. “No, I mean don’t sweat the suit. It goes back to the designer in the morning.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, suddenly believing I was doing just that. My armpits felt sticky.

Marv burst out laughing. “That was a little showbiz humor. I don’t care if the clothes go back with stains. It won’t be me cleaning them.”

I forced a chuckle, though I’d rather he didn’t add to my anxiety. “So, when each guy emerges from their car, I just say hello and let them do most of the talking, right?”

A pre-taped segment was currently airing for viewers, where they had filmed me introducing myself and talking about my background. That had been spliced with a montage of clips they’d taken of me over the previous week. What had been condensed to minutes had taken hours to film, including me working at my New York City club, shooting hoops in my gym, swimming in my pool to create the obligatory eye-candy shots, and making dinner with my mother. That had been a way to introduce her and alert viewers that she would be a part of the show, coaching and opining. If people watching paid attention, they would have noticed that my mother and I were simply moving food around the counter and pretending to mix something in bowls. Neither she nor I were adept in the kitchen. At least she had behaved and stuck to the lines the director had asked her to say, which primarily focused on what I sought in a partner.

“Well, I’d rather you not put it all on the potential suitor,” Marv replied to my question. “Be natural. Interact the way you do whenever you’re meeting a date for the first time.”

Except that I had never met a date the way this was planned, let alone with hundreds of thousands of viewers judging everything about me. And I would need to do it with seven different men in the span of seven minutes. Usually, my hookups were in the cities where I did business. A guy would start talking to me, maybe flirt a bit, then ask me out. In those cases, I already knew what they looked like and whether I was interested. Here, I’d need to remind myself to appear attracted to whomever emerged from a limo, whether I was or not, for the sake of the program.