Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1) (7 page)

BOOK: Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1)
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Amanda took a slice of veggie supreme and then sat on a lounge chair in the living room.  Across from her was a television with a cable box underneath.  A time display on the box read 7:58.  Two minutes until the start of
The Bride
.  “Do you mind if we turn on the TV?” she asked.

“Yeah, turn it on, I think the Lakers are playing,” said Aaron.

“Oh.”  Amanda was hit with a wave of panic.

“I don’t think the farm girl from Iowa is all that interested in watching the Lakers,” said Lauren.

“Come on, she lives in LA now, doesn’t she?!” said Darren.

“This is our apartment, not yours!  If you want to watch basketball you can go next door!”

“No, that’s ok,” said Amanda.

“Don’t worry, Amanda,” said Lauren.  “I don’t want to watch the Lakers either.  I hate basketball.”

Aaron reached for the remote and turned the TV on.  “So what’s it gonna be then?”

“Do you guys ever watch that show,
The Bride
?” Amanda asked.

“Ohhhh!!” Aaron groaned.  “Not reality TV!”

“Aaron, you are being rude.  This is Amanda’s apartment.  If she wants to watch
The Bride
, we’ll watch
The Bride
!” said Lauren.

“We don’t have to…” Amanda tried to protest, though her heart wasn’t in it.

“I love that show!” said Markus with a smile and a wink.  He took the remote from Aaron’s hand and switched the channel just as
The Bride
was coming on.

“You would,” said Aaron.

“Hey, we’ll have none of that!” Markus snapped.  He turned back to Amanda.  “Who’s your favorite?”

“My favorite?”

“Yeah.  I like number nine.”

“Oh.  I like number five.”

Markus nodded.  “The Texas beach boy, huh?  You’ll be happy in LA.  There are plenty of wannabe beach boys around here, that’s for sure.”

Amanda smiled lightly as the realization dawned on her.  Markus was gay.  Not much of a prospect after all, but maybe a good ally nonetheless.  He turned up the volume as the opening credits came to an end.  “Last week on
The Bride
…” said the narrator’s voice.  The scene shifted to a shot of number nine walking on the beach at sunset, hand-in-hand with the bride.

“My best friend back home likes number nine, too,” said Amanda.

“Your friend has good taste,” said Markus.

“You do like those bad boys, don’t you Markus?” said Lauren.

“What can I say?” he answered with a sly grin.  “It’s my weakness.”

When the scene shifted to a shot of the bride and number five sitting together at dinner, Amanda gripped the armrests of her chair with both hands, her plate of pizza on her lap.

“How many guys are left?” Lauren asked.

“See, I knew you watched this show!” said Markus.

“I’ve
seen
it!  That doesn’t mean I
watch
it!  Not like I go out of my way.”

“There are five bachelors left,” said Amanda.

“Thank you,” said Lauren.

Amanda could tell it was going to be next to impossible to actually watch the show with this peanut gallery making comments the whole time.  “You know, if you have a DVR I can watch this later,” she said.  “I don’t mind switching to the basketball.”

“No, we’ll watch what
you
want to watch,” said Lauren.

“Really, I can tell when I’m outnumbered.”

“That’s good enough for me,” said Aaron.  He reached for the remote and hit
record
before switching the channel to the Lakers game.

“Besides,” said Amanda.  “This way I can skip through the commercials.”

“As long as you don’t mind,” said Lauren.

Without the show on, Amanda was able to relax.  She let go of the armrests and picked up her slice of pizza to take a bite.  She didn’t care at all about the basketball game, but when she looked around at the other people in the room she was struck by an emotion that had eluded her for a very long time.  Amanda felt… happy.  She had friends.  She fit in.  She was accepted.  Here in this city so far from home she was carving out a whole new life for herself.  It was what she’d yearned for all along.  A big part of it anyway.  The rest couldn’t be all that far behind.

Chapter Nine

 

Amanda was walking up the stairs in her complex with a laundry basket in her hands when she saw the door to apartment number eight swing open.  She slowed her gait to watch as a woman emerged and then ducked her head back inside momentarily.  Kissing Peter goodbye?  When the woman came back out again, the door closed behind her and she moved toward Amanda along the landing.  She wore a short black skirt with long, thin suspenders that came up over a white cotton blouse.  Fishnet stockings covered her legs, barely, and she stumbled on shiny black stiletto heels.  “Good morning,” Amanda said.  The woman managed a half-hearted smile in return, her mouth smeared with red lipstick, as she hobbled past and on down the stairs.

Inside Amanda’s apartment, Lauren sat in the kitchen eating fried eggs and toast.  Amanda put her basket on the floor and then moved to the refrigerator, opening the door to pull out a carton of yogurt.  “I think I just saw Peter’s girlfriend,” she said.

“Ha!  I doubt it,” Lauren replied.

“Some girl just came out of his apartment.  I think he kissed her.”

“So what?  They probably met last night.”

Amanda opened the silverware drawer and took out a spoon before sitting at the table.  She peeled open the top of the yogurt container.  “What’s the story with you two, anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“What do you think?”  Lauren smirked.

“You were one of those girls?  Coming out of his apartment in the morning?”

At this, Lauren shook her head in dismay.  “I’d like to think it was a bit more than that.”

Amanda ate a spoonful of yogurt.  She didn’t want to press too hard, but if she was going to be living in the middle of something she deserved to know what it was, at least on some level.  “So what happened?”

Lauren put her knife and fork on her plate.  “Look, Peter is an asshole, end of story.  He’s handsome and slick and he makes women feel special but they’re not.  Not to him.  They’re conquests and nothing more.  A way to stoke his ego.  My one piece of advice to you living here is to stay as far away from him as possible.”  With that Lauren lifted her plate and carried it to the sink where she washed the last of her eggs down the disposal before putting her plate and utensils in the dishwasher.  She lifted the skillet from the stove and rinsed that as well before putting it in and closing the dishwasher door.  “Darren and I are going for a hike out in Malibu today if you want to come,” she changed the subject.

“I’d like to but I think I should keep looking for a job until I find one.”

“Oh, come on, it’s Saturday!”

“Restaurants are open on Saturdays.”

“Fine, suit yourself.”

“Anyway, I have to finish my laundry.  Maybe next time.”

“Sure.”

Lauren disappeared into her room to get ready for her hike and Amanda moved to the lounge chair in the living room.  She put her yogurt on the table and picked up the remote, clicking on the television.  She found
The Bride
on the DVR and hit Resume Play before putting the remote down and picking up her yogurt once again.  Now she could settle in and watch with no distractions.  Her one hour of the week with Bachelor Number Five.

 

When the show was over, Amanda felt a sense of relief mixed with growing apprehension.  She was relieved that number five had made the cut yet again.  That meant she would see him the following week.  She was worried, however, that with only four bachelors left, he might actually win.  He might go through with it and marry this woman.  Amanda wasn’t sure if she could take that.  Number nine was still in the running as well.  Maybe the bride would take the advice of Markus and Piper and choose him instead.  Amanda could only hope.  Or could she do more than that?  If only she might cross paths with Grant before then…  Was it so far-fetched to think that he might see Amanda as a better alternative?  She didn’t come with a million dollar payday, but one thing she could offer that the bride never could was a relationship based on love and respect.  Surely that was worth more than a measly million dollars, right?  Amanda knew that she was just a little bit crazy to even entertain these ideas, but if moving all by herself from Quincy, Iowa to Hollywood, California was possible, then meeting Grant Hutchinson was, too.  Now that she was actually here, walking these same streets, why not dream big?

The problem, as Amanda saw it, was that she had no good way to find him.  Her lead at The Hamburger Hut
hadn’t worked out.  She couldn’t expect to run into him at the beach.  She had no idea where he lived.  There were still the nightclubs.  She knew the ones he liked to hang out at, but going to those places on her own sounded daunting.  Especially when she didn’t know which club he’d be at on which night.  It would help if she had someone else to go with.  Unfortunately, Lauren didn’t like those places.  Of course there was always… Peter.  That idea made her decidedly uneasy.  What would Lauren say?  And why would Peter want a girl like Amanda tagging along?  Based on what she had seen coming out of his apartment that morning, Amanda was obviously not his type.  She wondered if Peter had ever seen Grant out at these places, though.  Maybe if she summoned the courage at some point she might actually ask.

Amanda went to her room and took a small stack of quarters from her top desk drawer.  She stuck the quarters in her pocket and headed out of the apartment.  At the bottom of the stairs she saw a woman about her age walking up the path from the street.  The woman wore a black dress with black stockings.  She had black hair with bangs cut straight across her forehead and black eye shadow around her black eyes.  Was this another one of Peter’s girls?  Amanda had read about this type before but it was the first time she’d seen one in person; a “goth” Amanda was pretty sure.  She moved a bit to the side to let the woman pass, expecting a greeting.  The woman kept her gaze straight ahead and walked on by without a word, continuing on to a ground floor apartment in the back.  “That was odd,” Amanda said to herself.  Apparently this was just another Hollywood character, sharing her building it seemed.

In the laundry room Amanda moved her clothes from the washer to the dryer, dropped her quarters in the slot and started the cycle.  On the way back up the stairs she walked slowly, eyeing the door to apartment number eight.  He’d said to stop by if she needed anything, right?  It wasn’t quite a cup of sugar she was after, though.  Even if she did knock on his door, what would she say?  “Excuse me, but do you happen to know Grant Hutchinson, and if so could you please introduce me?”  She’d sound like a complete lunatic, but then again, maybe she was one.  She tried to think of another excuse.  Something to actually borrow?  Milk?  Amanda already had some, but Peter didn’t know that.  It was all so unseemly.  A guy like him would probably end up taking it the wrong way.  He’d think she was hitting on him.  Ha!  As if she’d ever be interested in someone as slick as Peter.  Not that he wasn’t kind of cute...  That was the part that made Amanda nervous.  If he’d been unattractive it would be a whole lot easier, but Peter was a guy who had some power over women, Lauren included.  That didn’t mean he had any power over Amanda.  She had bigger aspirations.  She was looking for
love
.  She wanted commitment; someone who shared her dreams of marriage and family and happily ever after.  Someone like Grant Hutchinson.  If finding him meant enlisting the help of Peter next door, then perhaps she’d just have to buck up and talk to him.

When the time came to go back down for her laundry, Amanda was ready to make her move.  She’d give a light knock at his door, say hello, and ask about the local club scene.  Why shouldn’t she?  Just because she’d never been to a fancy nightclub in her whole life didn’t mean she couldn’t pull off the persona of a confident urban chick.  Amanda picked up her laundry basket and headed out the door.  She marched right over to number eight.  As soon as she’d knocked, Amanda was seized with panic.  She forced herself to stay put for a few more seconds, but when nobody came to the door she felt relieved.  Amanda walked on down the stairs at a leisurely pace even as adrenaline surged through her veins.

It was when Amanda entered the laundry room that she realized why Peter hadn’t answered the door.  Here he stood, facing the change machine as he held up his wallet and peered inside.  “Damn…” he said to himself.

“What’s wrong?”  Amanda stood behind him in the doorway.

“Oh, hey.”  Peter turned to see her.  “You don’t have any change, do you?”

“What do you need?”

“The smallest I have is a ten, but the machine only takes ones and fives.”

Amanda tilted her head back slightly and inhaled through her nose.  Amidst the odors of laundry detergent and scorched drier sheets, the smell of cologne was unmistakable.  It struck Amanda as peculiar.  Why would he be wearing cologne, at this time of the morning, while he did his laundry?  The answer came to her nearly as fast as the question.  Of course, he hadn’t yet showered since the evening before.  This was the scent he wore for a night on the town.  She took in another breath of it.  The smell was not altogether bad.  In fact, Amanda quite liked it.  Guys in Quincy were more likely to smell of manure.  If this was what the men in Los Angeles smelled like, she could get used to it.   “I don’t know if I have change for a ten or not,” Amanda said.  “I’d have to check my purse upstairs.”

BOOK: Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1)
2.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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