Authors: Bethany Ramos
She was actually looking forward to the dating game. Ky seemed like the total package. Someone smart, handsome, and successful that would be perfect to have by her side in Hollywood.
Ky continued. “Mostly, I’m looking for a woman that could be my best friend.”
You could almost hear the women sigh with contentment at his perfect, Hallmark answer to the question.
Harper bit her lip and clutched her glass of champagne even tighter.
“All of you women are clearly beautiful and have so much to offer. I just want to take the time to get to know all of you and find out if we have the same interests and a deeper connection that we can build on. The best romances start out as friendships, am I right?” Ky asked with a wink.
The women giggled and began chattering amongst themselves. They all seemed pleased with Ky’s answer. In fact, some of the ladies seemed downright cocky.
But Harper had had enough. She needed some alone time with Ky right away. She needed to make an impression on him that he would remember for the first voting ceremony or challenge or whatever they had to do to stay on the show.
Harper stood up and smoothed her cream linen pants. She cleared her throat. “Ky, could I steal you away for a moment?”
Now you could definitely cut the tension with a knife. All the other bitches were probably wondering,
Why didn’t I think of that?
But they didn’t think of it first because they weren’t in it to win it like she was. She decided right then and there that she was going to do whatever it took to get and keep Ky’s attention. He was too good a prize to pass up.
“Absolutely, sweetheart,” Ky drawled back at her. He put his hand on the small of her back to guide her to another cabana on the beach, illuminated by moonlight and a few well-placed tiki torches.
She allowed a few moments of silence to lapse. She wanted Ky to speak first. He could set the tone for their first one-on-one conversation, telling her exactly what she needed to do to win him over.
The pair settled down on a wicker swinging bench underneath the cabana. Ky wrapped his strong bicep around her shoulders as they got comfortable. Two cameramen stood behind them capturing each moment of their conversation.
“So, Harper. Tell me something about yourself,” Ky began.
“Well, what exactly do you want to know?” She looked up at him slowly from underneath her long (fake) lashes.
Ky cleared his throat and turned to gaze thoughtfully at the ocean in front of them. “I’d love to hear why you came here in the first place. Are you looking for love?”
“Yes . . . Absolutely. Why else would I be here?” She giggled. She put a more serious expression on her face and placed her hand on Ky’s arm. “I live in LA right now, and everyone I meet is so superficial. I’m looking for something real, you know? Something that will last. Someone who I can call my
best friend
and really fall in love with.”
That was yet another trick she had learned from the Job Fair in high school. On a job interview, you were supposed to use the same wording that was posted in the job description. It was supposed to make the interviewer subconsciously associate you with being the perfect candidate for the job. And the same tactic worked just as well in the dating world.
“And what about you, Ky? Do you think you’re going to find love here?”
“You know, I think so. What I’m looking for is a real, honest woman that can become my best friend. Someone that I share the same interests with and have a deep connection with. You’re obviously a beautiful woman with so much to offer. I look forward to getting to know you more.” Ky stared deep into her eyes. The moonlight lit up his face so that he appeared almost ghoulish.
Was she taking crazy pills, or was that the exact same answer Ky had just given the group not fifteen minutes earlier? This guy really seemed to be stuck on this whole “best friend/soul mate” kick. Either he really wanted a best friend, or he was sticking to a few rehearsed answers for the cameras. Well, she could play that game, too.
“Yes, I completely agree with you on that one. A best friend is exactly what someone needs so that they can make a deep connection and share the same interests,” she purred back at him.
Ky nodded with enthusiasm. “I’m so glad you understand. What I really need is a deep connection with someone I can call my best friend.”
Ky leaned in closer to Harper and tightened his grip around her shoulders. Was he going to kiss her? She hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon in the game. But she was ready. She was always ready for a good first kiss.
Ky leaned in even closer until his face was just inches from her own. He reached out his hand and cupped her chin. He whispered, “Let’s head back, huh? The other ladies are probably missing us.”
Chapter 3
Harper’s Confessional:
Ky is so much hotter than I would have ever thought! Our first meeting was like, totally, romantic. Whoever set up that cabana on the beach was pure genius. The moonlight definitely set the mood. I'm just looking forward to getting to know Ky better, and all the other women, too, of course. But Ky told me in confidence that he wants to meet his best friend and soul mate. And that's why I'm here too. To meet my best friend. So, I would say that this is the perfect beginning for our romance.
By the time that she and Ky had made it back up the beach path to the main cabana, the party had died. The women sat in groups of two and three, drinking and talking quietly. As they approached the group, a young man popped up out of nowhere with a glass fishbowl of plastic room cards.
In broken English, he said, “You have room key?” and gestured to the circle of cabins behind them.
Amber, being the closest to the fishbowl, grabbed the bowl and plopped it onto her lap. “Okay, how about I keep everything organized and read off the names on the cards one by one?”
Amber quickly divvied out the cards to the right women in hall-monitor fashion. From what Harper could gather, there were three ladies to a suite. Which meant she would be sharing a room with . . .
“Harper, Brinkley, and . . . me!” Amber squealed. “How fun is that? We’re going to be roomies, girls!”
Great
. She was stuck with the Midwestern Dairy Queen and some boring girl who both looked and acted like a teacher for the next four weeks. She really should have read her contract better. She could have sworn they were getting private suites.
The young man that handed out the fishbowl approached the group again. “You go to cabins now? Tomorrow you meet at—” He gestured toward the huge pool surrounded by five waterfalls in the courtyard behind them. “At eight in morning tomorrow. Okay? Okay?”
The women took the next twenty minutes to say their goodbyes to Ky.
Jesus Christ, you would have thought they were never going to see him again, let alone see him in just eight short hours. Clingy, much?
She was just glad she had been the first and only girl to get some alone time with Ky that night. She had definitely made the right impression. She was sure to stand out from all the other cookie-cutter women for the rest of the competition.
Amber linked her arms through hers and Brinkley’s and set out toward the cabins behind the pool. She was chattering a mile a minute.
Does this girl ever shut up?
Harper rubbed her temple with her free hand. She felt a monster headache coming on. There was no way she was going to get any sleep that night. And she needed at least nine hours of beauty rest at a bare minimum.
“So, I was thinking we should talk about what kind of shower and bathroom schedule works best for everybody? I don’t know about you, ladies, but it takes me about an hour to do my hair in the morning. Believe it or not, these curls are not natural.” Amber laughed and patted her frizzy, and outdated, Victoria Beckham asymmetrical bob.
I’d believe it
. Amber looked like she had gotten her loose, spiral perm done at a cosmetology school. She’d probably never seen the inside of a professional salon in her life.
It was sounding more and more like a bad summer camp by the minute. But she was more than willing to agree to any shower schedule. As long as she got the girl to shut up, she’d be fine. And as long as she had fifty minutes each morning to flatiron her extensions and airbrush her makeup on, she’d be a happy camper, no pun intended.
Thank God the suite was gorgeous, although a little too cramped for Harper’s taste. She would have much preferred separate rooms for all the women, but at least they had their own king-size beds and a balcony with French doors that opened up to a picturesque ocean view.
It was surreal and relaxing and romantic . . . if she had been sharing the room with Ky and not two other women. But she’d take care of that soon enough.
Right now, all she was concerned about was getting to sleep and getting out of any “late-night bonding” conversations that Amber wanted to initiate. She knew the type. Thankfully, she was smart enough to have brought earplugs and a sleeping mask so that she could tune out the giggles from Amber and Brinkley and fall right to sleep.
But morning came much, much too soon. She woke as the sun was rising and couldn’t get back to sleep. From her guesstimation, she’d only gotten six or seven hours of sleep, though she couldn’t know for sure because they weren’t allowed to have watches or clocks anywhere on the premises.
Harper was already wide-awake with her makeup and hair perfectly done to answer the wake-up call when it rang. A happy, foreign voice sang out over the phone, “Wake up at 7:30 AM, beautiful ladies!” Then the line went dead.
Ugh.
Clearly, it was her job to wake up her two roommates, who were sleeping like they were dead to the world.
“Girls? Girls?” Nothing. Those girls definitely couldn’t hold their champagne. “GIRLS!” Harper clapped her hands and turned the lights on and off. That at least got Brinkley to stir and open one eye.
Brinkley groaned. “I’ve never been hung over before, but I think I’m hung over.”
“Sorry, girl. That’s too bad. You guys have a half hour to get ready and meet by the pool. I’ll see you down there.” She gave a little wave and trotted out of the room.
She wasn’t sure exactly how to dress for their first morning together on the show, so she went with a typical island look. Her black, lacy Betsey Johnson bikini that looked identical to lingerie, a gauzy pink cover-up that was completely see-through, leaving nothing to the imagination, and three-inch wooden sandals to complete the look.
Perfect.
She was the first to arrive by the pool.
What was with these girls?
No one seemed to be able to hold their champagne. That was an interesting tidbit she could use to her advantage later on.
Get a few of the girls drunk, and they would be utterly useless the next day.
She made a mental note.
She lay down on a wicker lounge chair next to the pool. She placed herself in a deliberately sexy, casual position so that the cameras would catch her looking her best when they started rolling. They would probably be there any minute.
She took a second to assess her surroundings. In front of her was the pool. It seemed big enough to hold four or five Olympic-sized pools, even though it was just the twelve ladies and Ky at the resort. Soft wicker chairs surrounded the perimeter of the pool with a few cushioned cabanas in-between; eight cabanas in all.
At each corner of the pool was a waterfall constructed of rock with plants and palm trees growing next to it. And in the very middle of the pool was a swim-up bar inside of a tower with a waterfall running off the side.
It was the most breathtaking and expensive-looking pool Harper had ever seen. But she doubted she would swim in it. She hated to get her hair wet, especially when it cost so much these days to replace extensions.
She heard voices behind her. A young man dressed in white linen was making his way toward her with five cameramen following him. She was still the only woman who had made it to the pool on time.
The young man greeted her with a bow and held out a tray with mimosas on it. Sure, it was eight in the morning, but she was on vacation, wasn’t she?
Fuck it. When in Rome . . .
“Miss, I have a card with your instructions for the day.” The young man placed a card on the silver tray with the mimosas. The butler sounded like he had an excellent grasp of the English language. Where had he been yesterday during the clusterfuck meet-and-greet when they’d arrived at the hotel?
She couldn’t hold back. She tore open the envelope holding the small silver card. Maybe she should have waited for the other girls to arrive. But it wasn’t her fault they were late, was it? And there was no way she was going to sit there patiently waiting for all the other ladies to make it down to the pool when their instructions for the day were handed to her on a silver platter. Literally.
Hello, Ladies,
Welcome to Bali! Today, you will be broken up into groups of four to go on mini dates with Ky. At the end of each mini date, a tribal medallion will be awarded to one special lady out of the group. One girl from each group will be eliminated.
Three tribal medallions,
hmm
? So that was how the game was played. It sounded a little
Survivor
-ish for her taste. She would have much preferred a traditional rose ceremony a la
The Bachelor
, but they probably couldn’t rip off that show entirely. They had to do something kind of original. Like give out tribal medallions to the lucky lady who won Ky’s heart on each mini date.
And one girl would be eliminated per group. So, for each group of four, three were going to make it, and one girl was going home, in tears, probably. She couldn’t wait.
The rest of the women made their way to the pool at least a half-hour late. Pretty pathetic. She used that valuable free time to work on her tan and show off her new bikini in the early morning sunlight.
The women gathered around her in a tight group as they passed the silver card back and forth. They still had no idea who was in each group or what a mini date consisted of. But at least they knew one thing. Three women were going home today.