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Actually, maybe she was wrong. Maybe shewasa glutton for punishment.
* * *
“Okay, my lords, the time you have been waiting for has come, you are about to meet your ladies at the first-impression mixer. You will be introduced to each lady, who will offer you their hand. Once you take it, you can bow your head or, if you feel so inclined, you can kiss the back of her hand. Each of the women will be wearing dance cards on their wrists. Once you reach the end of the receiving line, you will be asked to write the name of which woman you’d like to ask to dance with based purely on your first impression. Once each man has been introduced, there will be a welcome reception where you can socialize.” Gavin took a deep breath, for what Keaton could only assume was for dramatic purposes. “Then, tonight during the first Fairytale Love Ball, each lord will have a chance to dance with every lady, including the one they selected. Then at the end of the ball, it will be revealed which lady the viewers voted for you to be matched with.”
Beside Keaton, Harlan raised his hand. “What’s the point of choosing who we want to dance with if we don’t pick who we get matched with?”
“I’m so glad you asked. The woman whose dance card has the most names on it will get to override the public vote and pick her own lord,” Gavin explained as if it was aSixth SenseI-see-dead-people plot twist.
The other men seemed to be intrigued by the prospect of one woman having the control to decide who she wanted to be with.
All Keaton could think was,fuck my life. He really was trying to go into this thing with an open mind. He knew that every show had to have a hook. The Bachelor had roses. Love Island had text messages the contestants would receive. Love is Blind had the pods. He got it. He even understood why they would have to write down the name of the person they wanted to dance with the most. It was to cause tension and drama if it wasn’t the same as the audience pick.
He got why they did the things they did, he just really didn’t want to be a part of it. All he wanted to do was be back in that kitchen with Avery. Or anywhere with Avery for that matter.
But his feelings didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how he felt about the cheesiness of the show. Or if he’d only agreed to do it for Iris and his aunt. Or if he fundamentally disagreed with manipulating people through editing and misinformation.
His granddad had been old school. Arthur Savage lived his life with certain beliefs, and he’d instilled those beliefs in his grandsons. He had a zero-tolerance policy for whining and complaining. He expected excellence at all times. And he loved a good idiom to demonstrate his point, especially when he was out on the boat with his grandsons. Keaton couldn’t count the number of jewels he’d dropped out in the middle of Whisper Lake.
A few of which were applicable to Keaton’s current situation. If his granddad was here now, Keaton knew what his take on things would be.
“A man who doesn’t keep his word is not a man at all, he’s just a boy who likes to talk.”
“If you put your name on something, make sure it’s worthy of your name.”
“Half-assing something just makes you a whole asshole.”
The bottom line was, he’d given his word to participate in this show. He’d signed a contract with his name on it. He wasn’t going to half-ass it. For however long he was filming, he was going to do his best to show up and be the man who he and his granddad could be proud of.
“Here we go! Game time, boys!” Vic clapped his hands before the doors opened.
When they did, Keaton immediately saw Zara, the woman on the phone who he thought looked familiar yesterday. He still felt like he knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t place it. Gavin stood at the end of the line and introduced each woman as “Lady” and then their names as each “Lord” walked down the receiving line.
Vic was first up, and he kissed the back of every girl’s hand. Keaton noticed he lingered a little longer on Lady Piper’s hand. Elijah was next and he simply nodded. From the little Keaton had observed of him, Elijah definitely seemed like the most reserved out of the men. Luca was next and he spoke Italian to each woman as he took their hand. Harlan winked and really leaned into his southern drawl as he greeted each woman with their own individual term of endearment as he went down the row.
Lady Sienna was sweet pea. Lady Piper was peaches. Keaton thought that he was choosing the affectionate aliases based on the first initial of their actual names, but he was proven wrong when Lady Ariel was darlin’. Then Lady Freya was sugar and Lady Zara was dumplin’.
From the look on Zara’s face, after Harlan passed, she wasn’t impressed with her nickname. That or she wasn’t impressed with Harlan. Maybe it was both. Keaton was last and he took a page out of Elijah’s book and just took each of their hands and tilted his chin down.
When he got to the end of the line, he was presented with a blank card. He knew he was supposed to write a woman’s name on it, but he had no clue which one to write. All of the women were beautiful, but he didn’t feel anything when he looked into their eyes. Eyes were a big thing to him. He wasn’t expecting fireworks like he had with Avery, but he had thought maybe there’d be a spark or something. But there wasn’t.
He chose Ariel because she had the kindest eyes. He figured he couldn’t go wrong with nice. But as he wrote her name, he felt like he was lying. The only woman’s name he wanted to write down was Avery.
He handed his card back to Heather and the mixer began. Sienna was the first to approach him. She told him she was a dentist, had two dogs, and in her spare time she liked to volunteer planting trees for the environment.
Next up, he talked to Piper who was a child psychologist who liked to do AcroYoga and didn’t drink caffeine. While he was speaking to Piper, Vic interrupted them and asked if he could steal her.
Keaton was relieved to have a breather, but when he turned around, he saw that Ariel was waiting to speak to him. She was a massage therapist who loved horror movies, had never had a broken bone, and was once held hostage in a bank that was being robbed.
Each conversation probably only lasted a few minutes, but to Keaton, it felt like they’d taken hours.
Small talk had never been his strong suit. And small talk that was being filmed was proving to be even more difficult for him to engage in, but he’d made a commitment and he was going to give it his best. He smiled, asked questions, and tried to be as present as possible.
He was just about to pat himself on the back for doing a good job when Iris approached him. She spoke in a low voice through clenched teeth. “Can I talk to you real quick?”
“Yes,” he’d never been more relieved to see his niece.
The moment the door closed behind them, she reached behind him and turned off his mic, then demanded. “What are you doing?!”
