Authors: Bethany Ramos
No matter.
She was in! She was going to tour Bali like no one had ever done before!
Okay, so she probably wasn’t literally the first person to ride a hot air balloon around the coast of Bali, but she probably was the first person to do it with a gorgeous guy while being filmed for a TV show. She couldn’t get her heart to stop thumping, she was so thrilled.
“Are you excited?” Ky shouted into her ear over the roar of the balloon.
Yes, Captain Oblivious. Of course, I’m excited,
she thought sarcastically. But instead of speaking her mind, she bit her tongue and smiled. “Absolutely! You sure know how to impress the ladies,” she joked.
Ky smiled and shouted something else into her ear that she couldn’t make out. She shrugged and smiled back. The date was getting better and better by the minute. Not only was she going to ride in a hot air balloon, but it was so loud that she didn’t have to worry about keeping up with all of the boring conversation topics Ky threw at her.
It didn’t get any better than this.
After fifteen short minutes spent floating along the glittering coastline, the hot air balloon lowered to a stop on the cliff where the ride had started. And surprise, surprise, a romantic candlelit dinner had already been set up for them at the edge of the cliff, giving them yet again the perfect view of Bali and the ocean in front of them.
Ky gestured to the table and pulled out a chair for her. “Milady?”
Okay, he really needed to stop that. It was just a little too corny.
But besides Ky’s theatrical overtones, the date was going pretty well so far. Granted, they hadn’t had to talk to each other for at least fifteen minutes, but she was beginning to relax and enjoy herself.
Ky topped off her glass with champagne. She could definitely get used to the free-flowing alcohol and the never-ending supply of champagne on the show. But she had to watch herself. If she weren’t careful, she’d end up getting tipsy and saying something even more embarrassing than she already had on their date.
All three cameras were on her. What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to say?
Think, think, think.
“Um, so what do you like most about this whole experience so far?” she blurted out as she downed half her glass of champagne.
Screw sobriety
. Being on camera was nerve-racking. She would take any liquid courage she could get.
“Well, that’s certainly an interesting question.” Ky grinned. His cheeks were flushed in the glow of the tiki torches surrounding them. “I have to say that I’ve enjoyed getting to know each and every woman on the show so far. Each woman has her own special characteristics and intricacies. It’s going to be really hard to vote someone off week after week.”
Bo-ring.
That was an expected answer. Although she didn’t know why she thought Ky would say anything other than his pre-rehearsed lines about how great everyone was on the show and how special they all were.
Blah blah blah.
She decided to spice things up. That, and the half glass of champagne had already gone to her head since she hadn’t eaten yet.
“Yes, I would imagine it would be difficult. So, tell me more about you. Why did your last relationship end?”
She could tell Ky wasn’t expecting that question. Had he not rehearsed any answers for the stickier questions that women might throw at him on the show?
For shame.
Morgan sat back in her chair. She leisurely finished the rest of her champagne and poured herself another glass. She was starting to enjoy herself.
“Um . . .” Ky squirmed in his seat. She could see the moment that the light bulb went on in his head.
Aha! He had an answer!
“My ex-girlfriend and I dated for two years, and I was almost ready to propose to her. But I just realized that we were two different people. Thankfully, I realized it in time so that we could part ways as friends.”
Hmph.
She doubted that. No girl in her right mind ever remained friends with a guy after they broke up.
“Really? I was engaged once. His name was Jack. He was a total douche bag. He popped the question, and then the next thing I knew, he had pushed back our wedding date three different times.”
She slapped the table for emphasis. The silverware rattled. “
Three
different times! Can you believe that shit?”
She giggled. She probably wasn’t supposed to say
shit
on TV. She could only imagine how embarrassed her mother was going to be when they had to bleep out profanities on her very first date with Ky.
Oops!
Ky had a pained expression on his face. But he continued to smile back at her anyway.
What a trouper
.
“Well, Morgan, that sounds like a pretty tough experience that you went through. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, of course, I don’t want to talk about it. If I wanted to talk about it, then I would be talking about it, wouldn’t I?”
She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She needed to pull in the reins before she got really sloppy. Acting tipsy over one glass of champagne was one thing but getting shitfaced on national TV was another.
Pull it together.
“Sorry, you have to forgive me. I just get a little heated about that topic. But back to you. What do you do back in LA?” She resisted the urge to pick her teeth with a butter knife as she prepared for yet another snooze-o-rama answer to her expected question.
Ky opened his mouth to reply, but she swiftly interrupted. “You know what’s weird? I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. Are you an LA socialite or something like that? You just look really familiar to me.”
“Yeah, about that. You probably have seen me around before. Like in the early 2000’s, I was in the boy band 101 . . .” He trailed off and continued to cut and rearrange the meat on his plate.
She snapped her fingers. “Holy shit! That’s it!” She started singing, “
Grrrl, I’ve got to get you, grrrl. I’ve got to have you, grrrl.
”
Okay, maybe singing had never been her strong suit. But now she was putting all the pieces together. “So you were in 101? I totally loved you guys back then. And you had that one single, right?”
“Yes.” Ky had a pained expression on his handsome face. “You had it right. It was
‘Got to Get You, Grrl’
, Number One for twelve weeks in the US and for eighteen weeks in Japan. We did a world tour.”
Morgan thought those interesting tidbits of trivia would have been something Ky was proud of, but,
no
. As he spoke, his voice got softer and softer. He continued to sink back into his chair until he was as far away from her as possible.
What was going on with this guy? Didn’t he want to brag about his awesome boy band greatness, especially on camera?
“So, what? You don’t sound like you’re very excited about 101.” She leaned closer.
“It’s not that. Don’t get me wrong. It was a really great experience.” Ky continued to fidget.
“What does 101 mean, by the way? I’ve always wondered that. Did it have some kind of special meaning for the five of you?” She was all ears. This was better than digging up dirt on her favorite musicians on Wikipedia.
Ky took a large bite of his grilled salmon. He took his time chewing.
“You know, I really couldn’t tell you. Truthfully, I have no idea what our band name even meant! I always wanted to ask, but I felt like it was a stupid question. It was something that our manager suggested, and it just stuck because it was really hot at the time to have a numbered boy band name, what with 98 Degrees and all of that.”
Ky laughed. He seemed to be relaxing. Legitimately relaxing, instead of just pretending to be relaxed and casual for the cameras. She figured it was the right time to dig even deeper. If she wanted any chance of getting to know Ky, she’d have to get to him when his defenses were down.
“That’s hilarious. You’d think that question would come up in interviews or something like that, wouldn’t you?” She reached for her champagne glass and felt her hand brush his. It was almost too cliché to say that she felt a spark, but she felt something. She pulled back her hand immediately.
“I think it did, but it was always Taylor’s job to speak to the media. So he probably made up something clever about how 101 was the address of our recording studio in Manhattan, or something. Even though we actually recorded in New Jersey.” Ky snickered. He was on a roll.
“So, was that when you met your ex? Were you guys together when you were in 101?” Maybe he would give her a real answer this time instead of something rehearsed.
Ky set his silverware down beside his plate and rubbed his chin. “Actually, Auriana worked in the tech department at our band’s recording studio, but we didn’t get into a relationship until later, until the band had already broken up.” He paused.
“She was always on me to do a solo album, especially since she had connections in the recording industry. She thought I could have done so much better for myself than just being a member of 101, no matter how much money I was bringing home in royalties.”
Morgan let silence fall on the table. If she remembered one thing from her brief stint as a psychology major before she switched to a Masters in marketing and advertising, it was that silence was golden. It wasn’t just a saying. Silence really did work wonders to get people talking, to say things that they otherwise wouldn’t have shared.
She smiled back at Ky, but her lips were sealed. He looked deep into her eyes as he continued, “And I had more than enough money. I wasn’t even using my trust fund yet. I bought this huge LA loft for both of us, professionally decorated and everything, with all of my earnings from the band. But she was never satisfied. It was like she only wanted me because I was famous and because she thought I was going to be even more famous. The fifteen minutes of fame weren’t enough for her.”
“So what happened?” Was it just her imagination, or had he moved his chair closer in the last five minutes? She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
“She cheated on me. Anyone could’ve probably seen that coming. And it was with Taylor, of all people.” The disgust was visible on his face.
The lead singer of 101, Taylor Tripp, was as washed up as they came, from what little she knew of the celebrity gossip world. He had tried a handful of different solo projects that tanked. She thought that she’d last seen him on a Proactiv infomercial at two in the morning, which was never a good sign.
At least he had Jessica Simpson to keep him in good company.
“I’m really sorry to hear that.” She really was. “I wasn’t cheated on, but I know how awful it can be to put everything into a relationship, only to have the other person check out. It’s devastating.”
She was surprised to feel her eyes welling up with tears. She’d had one glass of champagne too many. She hadn’t gotten weepy over Jack in months.
Ky scooted even closer and placed his hand over hers. But it didn’t feel weird. It actually felt kind of good. “I’m glad you know what I’m talking about. I’ve never really told anybody she cheated on me before because I didn’t want it to leak to the press. But I guess that’s beside the point now since we’re on camera.”
He squeezed her hand, moving his thumb back and forth over her vintage spoon ring. “I’m just glad to put all that behind me and move on to meet the right woman, someone who can be my best friend. Someone I can share my life with.”
You could hear the record scratch—
err!
There he went again with all the “best friend/soul mate” bullshit. Ky still had a ways to go when it came to turning off his on-air personality. But at least their conversation had gone somewhere real.
For the first time since she’d stepped foot onto her international flight forty-eight hours earlier, she felt excited about being there. Maybe something really could happen between the two of them.
Maybe he really was worth getting to know better.
Before she could string anymore fuzzy thoughts together, Ky had moved his chair closer. He put his arm around her shoulders and turned to face the ocean bathed in white moonlight. Still awestruck at the view before them, she couldn’t believe she was here, doing this, with him.
Carefully, he cupped her chin in his hands. Was he going to do what she thought he was going to?
Wasn’t it kind of corny to have their first kiss at a candlelit dinner overlooking the ocean in the moonlight?
But then they were kissing. The kiss only lasted all of five seconds, but her head was spinning. Sure, their chemistry was undeniable. But what really mattered was whether Ky was as legitimate and honest as he seemed to be tonight, or if he was just telling her what she wanted to hear for the sake of ratings.
Chapter 7
Harper
Harper’s Confessional:
The fact that I didn’t get the top date is total bullshit. Wait, am I not supposed to say that on camera? Whatever. Sorry. I’m just totally confused about why Ky didn’t pick me, or at the very least, Cori. I don’t want to be mean or anything, but Morgan totally isn’t his type. She hardly wears any makeup at all, and I saw them when they were getting into limo for their date, and I’m pretty sure she was wearing an off-the-rack sundress. For their big date. That’s a little low class, if you ask me.
Harper tossed and turned all night. She always slept badly when she drank too much. And she always drank too much when she was upset about something. Which was why she prided herself in having such a blunt, honest personality.
Her theory was that it was better to tell someone exactly what you were thinking instead of leaving them to wonder. And if someone made you mad, it was better to get it off your chest right away so that they wouldn’t do it again.
The only glitch in the plan was this whole reality TV setup. She didn’t have the luxury of marching up to Ky’s room to give him a piece of her mind after he’d picked Morgan over her for the date. All the women were forced to spend the rest of the evening drinking and eating and gossiping and crying (Lindsay claimed the “stress of the show” was getting to her) by the pool.
The butler guys that kept bringing them drink after drink made it very clear that the women were not to leave the pool for any reason whatsoever. Or at least, that was the impression she got through their broken English. That was fine by her. If Ky didn’t want to choose her for the top date, she wasn’t going to chase him.
On the off chance that Ky didn’t choose her as the winner of the show, which was highly unlikely, she could just sell her story to a few tabloids and tell all of America what a total douche bag the
Adventure to Love
bachelor turned out to be. She had it all figured out.
So she kicked back with Cori in a lounge chair next to the pool. With a constant drink in hand for at least five hours, she was feeling like her usual self. She told Cori story after story about all the celebrities that she’d bumped into in LA since she’d moved there. Cori seemed totally impressed. Which made sense, since she lived in some boring town in Middle America, like Kansas City or something like that.
The women were finally escorted to their rooms hours later. Although Harper couldn’t say for sure, it felt like it was well after midnight.
But who knew? Time always flew when you were drinking.
The one thing that she did remember was their butler telling them that they would get a wake-up call at eight AM sharp. Once again, they had to get their butts down to the Great Pool, as it was called by the staff, for their morning briefing.
She fell into her bed like a sack of rocks. She hoped Brinkley was at least sober enough to hear the wake-up call in the morning. Otherwise, they were both screwed. She didn’t want to be late to the morning meeting by the Great Pool because, as she had learned yesterday, getting there first gave her a competitive advantage.
Harper woke with a start, thanks to the shrill ringing of the phone in her ear. It kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing. Brinkley hadn’t moved a muscle. Clearly, this girl could sleep through anything, even the most annoying wake-up call on the face of the earth.
She answered the phone with an angry “hello.” She knew exactly who was calling and what they were going to say. She didn’t know why she had even bothered answering in the first place. “Wake up at eight AM, beautiful ladies!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know.” She slammed the phone back into the cradle. By that point, she didn’t even bother being nice to the staff because it was clear that they had a very loose grasp of the English language. And who could be expected to be bright, sunny, and cheerful after only a few hours of very bad sleep?
Brinkley, that was who. Brinkley rolled over on her side and smiled at her. Her voice sounded soft and sweet, like a little girl who had just woken up from a nap. “Hey. Who was that?” she murmured.
“Who do you think it was? It was our wake-up call. I told you about it last night. Or do you not remember? Did you drink too much again?” Harper narrowed her eyes.
That was a little unnecessary. She knew that Brinkley was sensitive about drinking since she’d never really done it before.
You got just two drinks in the girl, and she was laughing, swaying, and slurring her speech. She couldn’t hold her alcohol to save her life.
“Sorry, I forgot about that. So we need to be down at the pool in a half hour? I call first dibs on the shower!” Brinkley jumped out of bed and raced into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
What was this, camp? And why the hell was this girl in such a great mood at this hour of the morning?
Harper decided to forgo the shower and rock her makeup from the night before. It was something she did all the time when she partied all night in LA and had to make it to an early morning casting call the next day.
She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror above the bed. Except for the flat spot on the side of her head from the pillow, she looked pretty good. Pretty damn good. She gave her hair a quick fluff, threw on her Dolce and Gabbana cream bikini, and was out the door.
If she were the first one to the pool, then maybe they would give her the instruction card on the little silver tray again. Then she’d have time to mentally and physically prepare herself for whatever they had to do that day to get Ky’s attention. If she played her cards right, she’d be the winner of the big date for the evening, not some low-class girl like Morgan.
She
was
the first woman down to the pool. The man with the little silver tray was there waiting, thank God. She snatched the small silver card off the matching tray and ripped it open in one motion. She waved away the glass of cold champagne that was offered to her on another silver tray, which was quite unlike her. But she didn’t have time for a cocktail at the moment.
She needed to figure out exactly what was going on for the day so that she could put her game face on. She needed some time to strategize so that she could win the top date instead of being just a runner up. Yes, that wound was still sore. No need to put any more salt in it by losing out on the big date again, for the second night in a row.
Ladies,
Hope you’re ready for a swim! Today, you will all put on your best swimwear and participate in a poolside swimsuit contest next to the Great Pool at nine AM. One woman will be the winner of the competition and win the exclusive Jungle Date for the evening, and two women will go home.
Holy shit.
The competition was getting fierce.
Two
women were going to go home? That meant that out of the nine ladies left, it would leave only seven. That was five less women than they’d started with, and they’d only been in Bali just a few days.
She thought that the cuts were going to take much longer than that. But it looked like the producers were trying to whittle down the women into a smaller core group, maybe so that they could get some better camera time with the leading ladies. Which she didn’t mind one bit.
The fewer women that there were to chatter, giggle, and gossip, the more attention that would be on her. And the more free time that Ky would have to get to know her even better, hopefully on the exclusive Jungle Date that night.
She heard the rest of the women coming before she saw them. Both Sarahs, Kendra, Lindsay, and Brinkley scampered up the stone path that led from the cabin suites to the Great Pool. It sounded like Kendra was telling a hilarious story about one thing or another. All the ladies were laughing hysterically at a joke she had made.
Harper sank back to recline on the poolside lounger. (
They didn’t call it a
lounger
for nothing, right?)
She wanted to make sure that all the women and Ky got the perfect view of her tanned, toned physique with zero body fat as they made their way to the Great Pool.
There was nothing like a little intimidation to put the women in check. And Ky would appreciate what he saw, if he was like every other red-blooded man in America.
That ought to get his blood pumping.
The women entered the gate of the pool area and approached her on her makeshift throne. She held the small silver card in the air as if she’d won a gold medal in the Olympics.
Close enough.
Once the other women recognized what she was holding, they were all over her.
Lindsay tried to grab the card out of her hand.
The nerve of that girl.
She scooted back even further on her lounger and said in a loud voice, “Good morning, ladies. Why don’t I read the card to you?”
She reread the message in the card. She paused to emphasize
swimsuit contest
since that was sure to upset Brinkley, what with all of her Midwestern values and Presbyterian charm. Sure enough, Brinkley’s eyes widened as she read aloud.
“Um, what do you think they mean by swimsuit competition?” Brinkley squeaked.
“I’m pretty sure it’s self-explanatory. We’re all going to be wearing our swimsuits to compete to see who looks the best in next to nothing,” Harper shot back.
She was trying not to be downright rude to any of the women, but it was hard to be nice to Brinkley. She was so sweet, so innocent, and so naïve that it was almost enough to make you sick.
Cori and Morgan, the stragglers of the group, made their way down to the pool a few minutes later. Harper once again had the great pleasure of reading the card aloud to the women and gauging their reactions. Morgan seemed unperturbed. It figured. She’d probably had an amazing date with Ky and was feeling pretty confident.
Harper wished that she’d had a little less to drink the night before so that she could have spied on Morgan’s suite to see what time she got home. That information in itself would have been pure gold. She didn’t think it would happen that soon, but there was always the possibility that Morgan could have stayed overnight with Ky. But that was pretty unlikely.
After all, why would he choose Morgan out of all the women there, over her, to stay the night with on the first big date of the show? Harper pushed that toxic thought out of her head.
She knew that it was bad energy to dwell on the negative, or at least that was what an astrologer on Ventura Boulevard had told her, so she focused on the positive. What was happening right in front of her. A cutthroat swimsuit competition that she was guaranteed to win.
There was only the small matter of her not-so-ample chest to think about. But the good news was that her Dolce and Gabbana swimsuit put curves in all the right places. It didn’t make her look like a double D or anything; it was going to take surgery to achieve that.
But it did make her look like a full B, when she was hardly an A cup soaking wet. It had been well worth the $300 investment.
One of the many butlers that fluttered around the pool all day long clapped his hands to get the attention of the group. He explained in slow, careful English that the women were to get undressed and stand in a line, wearing only their swimsuits.
After the women were lined up in no particular order, Ky entered the gate of the Great Pool. He opened his arms wide in front of him like Moses parting the Red Sea.
“Ladies, I have never seen such a beautiful sight in my life. Every morning since I have been here, I have woken up thinking that I have got to be the luckiest man on earth to get to spend time with all of you special women. And today, I feel even luckier because I get to be your judge in the first-ever
Adventure to Love
swimsuit competition!”
Most of the women giggled nervously at the announcement. Harper felt like she was in her element. She tried her best to stick out her chest and her ass at the same time, which was more difficult than it seemed. She wanted to look like a hot piece of T & A, not an awkward flamingo. It took a delicate balance.
Ky was handed a clipboard by one of the butlers. He began reading a long list of official rules and regulations, as if he were the judge of the Miss America pageant. Harper didn’t catch all of the rules because she was hardly paying attention, but she did gather that they were going to be judged on poise, class, and elegance.
As if.
More like, they were going to be judged on breasts, asses, and flat stomachs.
She took a look down the line of women next to her. Brinkley, Lindsay, Morgan, Samantha, Kendra, Sarah M., Sarah S., Cori, and then Harper. While it may have seemed like a losing strategy to place herself purposefully next to Cori, the exotic beauty of the group, she knew what she was doing.
Cori was breathtaking, no doubt about it. But she had clearly put much more effort into her appearance. A designer swimsuit, $1200 extensions, professional teeth whitening, MAC limited-edition makeup, and hours and hours spent at the gym each week. It was no wonder that she could barely afford her rent every month.
As for the other women,
pathetic
was the only word that came to mind. Brinkley looked like she was wearing her grandmother’s swimming costume from the 1950s. Lindsay had on a typical black bikini with ruffles on the top to make her chest look bigger. Morgan was going all natural and granola with some paisley bandeau top two-piece, although her body didn’t look half bad, come to think of it.
Samantha stood out because her chest was astronomically big. A little too big, if at all possible. She made a mental note to talk with her plastic surgeon after she won the show to make sure that her new breasts were big, but not so big that they looked obvious.
Kendra, always gorgeous, looked like she’d had a spray tan gone wrong.
Poor girl.
She must have tried to put some fake tanner on the night before and had fallen asleep. She had orange streaks all over her stomach, and her elbows and knees were two shades darker than the rest of her body.
There was no hiding that.
Both Sarahs—Harper couldn’t tell them apart—were in decent physical shape. But they had that kind of athletic look that made her think they had played college volleyball or were professional swimmers or something.
They were in good shape, but they hardly had the curves that a man like Ky was looking for in a woman.
What kind of man wanted to feel like he was feeling up on his little brother with the broad shoulders and six-packs those girls were sporting?