Chairs adjust and people start murmuring. I’m under the assumption Hoar got the gig, but now I’m second-guessing by the fact the producer is telling us all of this.
Jeremy Wilhelm clears his throat and looks at the paper. “Congratulations to Hudson Bryant. You’ve been selected to participate in A Date for the Hunt.”
All eyes turn toward me. Some of my co-workers smile, a few of them glare, but my core friends are standing and rushing toward me. They push, slap my back, some tell me I’m a lucky fucking bastard.
“Quiet down!” Captain yells. “Bryant!” He barks my name.
“Yes, sir?”
“Is participating in the show something you want to do?” he asks. “Before you answer, I must advise that you’ll have to use your own personal time to cover the time off.”
Shit, really? I hadn’t considered that I’d have to use my vacation time when I filled out the application. Of course, I only filled it out because Jensen said he’d get chosen over me, which turned it into a challenge. Guess, I won, again. But do I really want to use my vacation time to go to Aruba? Fuck yes!
“I’m in.”
“Seriously?” Jensen asks.
I shrug. “Why not? A two-week paid vacation to Aruba, to frolic in the ocean with some chick that I don’t know, all while trying to get lucky. . . who would say no?”
“Frolic in the ocean? What the hell is wrong with you?” Hoar asks.
I brush off my shoulders. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game, Hoar.”
He throws his hands up at me and turns back around. Sucka!
Jensen claps a hand on my back. “Dude, I can’t believe you’re going to go.”
“Don’t worry, Jensen, I’ll send you a postcard!”
The producer calls me over and asks me to follow him. I do and as I pass by, my team razzes me. I love it. Wilhelm heads toward the Captain’s office and takes a seat at the small table Cap has in there. I do the same.
“Here is the contract. I suggest you read it over before signing.”
I do as he says. In a nutshell, I can’t be a douche. Which is easy, I may give Jensen and my co-workers a ton of shit, but when it comes to women, I’m nothing but respectful. My mother raised me right.
Wilhelm pushes a pen toward me. I take it and scribble my name in triplicate. “Now what?” I ask him.
“Now, you go home and pack. You only need clothes for a couple of days, as the show will provide most of your outfits.”
“Seriously?”
He nods. “Sponsorships are an amazing thing.” He stacks the papers together. “Tomorrow at six a.m. a car will come pick you up to take you to the airport. The driver will have all your information, tickets, and instructions of what to do when you get to the airport. You’ll be taken to the hotel, where you’ll meet the other male contestants.”
“But not the woman?”
A sly smile spreads across his face. “No, you won’t meet a woman until you’ve found an egg. Once all the eggs are found, you’ll spend the first twenty-four hours with your match before all the couples are brought together.”
“So secretive,” I say, finding the whole concept interesting.
He laughs. “It’s the way the show works, Mr. Bryant. You’ll have fun, I promise.” Wilhelm stands and we shake hands. “Here’s my card, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call.”
I take his card. “Thanks.”
He heads toward the door and stops. “Oh, one other thing,” he says, turning around. “The show will air while you’re participating, so be careful what you say. The only things we’ll be editing out are what the FCC deems inappropriate.”
“Does that mean you’ll put a dot on my ass if I get naked?” I ask, grinning wide.
Wilhelm clears his throat and smiles. “If you and your partner decide to do . . . well, the cameras won’t be there, but the microphone might be.” He lowers his voice. “A word to the wise though. If you don’t want it to be on TV, don’t do it. Our camera guys can be sneaky.”
“Soft porn, I like it,” I joke.
He shakes his head and turns back to the door. I can’t help it. I find myself funny. Others may not but I can’t change who I am. Wilhelm reminds me what time the car will be at my house and tells me to have a safe flight.
I look down at the contract and focus on the word—Aruba. Fuck yes, surf, sand, and beach here I come!
3
Allison
Aruba is absolutely gorgeous. For a second, I forgot the real reason why I’m in the tropical paradise in the first place. As soon as I arrived at the hotel, I was reminded when my sister met me in the lobby, all giddy about the show starting tonight. She looked cute with her dark hair pulled high in a ponytail and dressed in a white sundress. I got to see several of the other female contestants, but I haven’t had the chance to speak to any of them yet. I’m sure I’ll get to tonight. Apparently, the men are set to show up later in the day so there’s no chance of running into them. Great. Can you sense my sarcasm? There’s going to be a lot of that going on.
Sitting out on the balcony of my room, I stare at the crystal-clear waters of the Caribbean. I’ve already read through the agenda on what’s going to happen tonight. After hair and makeup, we pick our eggs, step up on stage, hide our eggs after we’re introduced to the world, and then hide away and wait for the men to find them. Once that’s done, we get to meet the men. Talk about awkward. What the hell am I going to say?
