PleasureGames: A Games Novella (7 page)

So why was it making me so crazy?

Unable to stand it any longer, I left the room and headed down to wardrobe an hour early, since Leona and Heathcliff still hadn't returned. Might as well see what we were going to be wearing tonight. That, and I was curious to see if any of the other women were nearby, because now I needed details.

Sadly, there was no one around except staff. They looked surprised to see me, because I was normally the last one to show up for wardrobe. "You're early," one commented. "Checking out what's up for wardrobe tonight?"

"Might as well." It wasn't like I was on a date with the billionaire.

"Tonight, there's a dance," one of the wardrobe assistants said, gushing. She ran to one of the racks in the back of the room and rolled it forward. "Total ballroom stuff. It's gonna look fabulous on television."

She pulled out a white gown to show me, and I mentally cringed a little at the sight of it. Big, poofy bows decorated the shoulders and led down to tight sleeves. The skirt was a beautiful bell-shape that would have been gorgeous if it wasn't for all the tulle edging around the sides. I looked at the dress, then at the others. Every single one was overdone in a bad prom sort of way. "Wow."

"Pretty spectacular, huh?"

It was pretty something, all right. "It's awesome. Did you make this?"

"Me? Oh no. They won't let me do more than a few alterations." She made a face. "They're from a famous designer. I believe the line is called 'postmodern ballerina'."

I fingered one of the bows thoughtfully. We still had at least an hour before wardrobe call, and wardrobe call was never a speedy process. Dinner - and tonight's ball - was still many hours away. "What if...what if I wanted to make some alterations?"

A look of excitement crossed the wardrobe assistant's face. "We can't tell you guys no. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking more Grace Kelly, less Scarlett O'Hara with the ruffles," I told her. "How hard would it be to pull these off?" I pointed at the tulle, and the bows.

"Not hard at all," she said. "Most of them are just locked with a quick-stitch. But if we do that, it's going to leave a few pinprick holes in the fabric." She held the skirt up, considering. "We'd need something to cover it."

An idea hit me, and I nearly jumped at the thought. If I couldn't be creative with my glass, maybe I could be creative with wardrobe. "What if we went with a theme? Like...a sea theme? We could stitch tiny seashells on--"

"Oooh," she said, eyes lighting up. "And there's a bit of soft blue netting I've been holding onto that would look great draped over the bustle."

Dear lord, there was a bustle? "Can we ditch the sleeves entirely?"

"Hell yeah we can." She grabbed the dress.

We got to work.

"
I
feel
like I'm in a battle to win Juno back...and I'm losing it. I just don't know what to do."
-- Heathcliff Forester, the Billionaire Bachelor, Episode 4 Interview

I
slipped
out of wardrobe before anyone else arrived, and went straight over to hair and makeup. Since Leona was not back, I took the reins. "I want a ponytail," I told them. "Just a simple blowout and then pony me up. Think simple."

Funnily enough, with my instructions, my hair looked fabulous. My hair had been smoothed into a long, silky ponytail draping from the crown of my head. My makeup was simple - light and nude on everything but heavy on the lashes. The resulting look was clean and fresh, and went well with my newly transformed dress.

The bows - and sleeves - were gone from my gown. The top had turned into a halter with a low back and a scooped neck, and looked fabulous. The skirt had been toned down from a tulle explosion into a soft elegant flow of silk dotted with starfish and tiny shells retrieved from the gift shop. Bustled down the back of it was the pale blue netting and more shells. It looked unique and elegant and island-ish and every time I looked in the mirror, it reminded me of the beach.

Part of me kinda hoped it reminded Heathcliff of the beach, too. If nothing else, to throw his fickle words in his face.

I wandered the hotel while I waited for time to pass. I couldn't sit in my dress lest I crush the masterwork we'd created. I didn't want to go back to the room I shared with Leona, because I didn't want to hear about how wonderful her date with Heathcliff was. I didn't want to see her glowing with happiness, because it made me feel...odd. I'd just concentrate on looking stellar tonight and make Heathcliff stew. Let him sweat for a change.

I deliberately showed up late for the ball. I guess I was in the mood to make
everyone
sweat. But for some reason, taking control of my own hair and wardrobe had calmed me. I felt...more like me. More in control of the situation. Like I could handle anything. I just gave the production assistants a calm look as they ushered me into the room.

The other five women were already there, dressed in their gowns. All eyes turned toward me as I walked in, and as I did, several of the other contestants frowned. I kept the smile on my face, though it was a little uncomfortable to be under so much scrutiny. The dresses were...well, they were monotone. That was the kindest thing I could say about them. It was like the designer had concepts and ideas, but because the show had insisted on the whole color scheme thing, any sort of fashion sense was lost. That was probably why Kimberly looked like an overdone cake, the yellow on yellow ruffles of her dress looking overly busy. Becca's sea foam green gown was better, but not by much, because instead of bows, they'd opted for more tulle, and she was practically swimming in it. The nicest thing I could say about Leona's ruffled dress was that the color looked good on her.

"Okay ladies, line up here on your appropriate color," one assistant said, pointing at designated spots taped to the carpets. "One by one, we'll call out your name and you'll head into the ballroom. There's going to be a long staircase so we want you to walk down it slowly, and the cameras are going to pan in on you. At the foot of the staircase will be our bachelor, who will guide you to one side until the next woman comes out. Do we all understand?"

Jenni F raised her hand, a cascade of purple fabric falling down her arm. "How come her dress is better than ours?" She pointed at my gown.

"Don't know, don't care," the production assistant said, adjusting his headset. "Now come on, we've got filming to do and we're already behind. Let's start with Becca, all right? You'll move forward when the music cues up, walk down the hall, pause at the top of the stairs, and slowly descend. Got it?"

She nodded and moved forward in a rush of greenish skirts, and the rest of us fidgeted, waiting our turn off to the side. Leona stood next to me, Kimberly behind me. I was a little nervous with the yellow viper behind me, because I wouldn't put it past her to sabotage my dress. I stood close to the wall and tried to keep my skirts behind me.

"Your dress looks great," Leona gushed, beaming at me. "Seriously, I wish mine looked half as good as yours. I feel like I'm a big peach tornado."

"Yeah, funny how she looks so much better than us," Kimberly said in a catty voice. "One would almost think the show was rigged."

I stiffened at that, because it was rigged. Or at least, it had been up until yesterday, when Heathcliff started acting all weird on me.

But Leona just rolled her eyes. "Don't pay attention to her," she told me. "You look fabulous."

I smiled at my friend and gave her hand a squeeze. She was so sweet, and I instantly regretted all the jealous thoughts I'd been having earlier that day. "How was the horseback riding date?"

"Interesting," she told me. Before she could say more, the line shuffled again, and then Leona was heading down the stairs. Damn. I wanted to hear more details about her 'interesting' date. Like, did they get along well? Did they ride on the same horse together? Was she in the front and cradled against his chest?

Did they
freaking
kiss? These were important questions, but unfortunately, they'd have to wait for answers.

"You're up," the assistant told me, and I moved forward. As I did, my skirts jerked. I looked backward at Kimberly.

"Ooops," she said with false sincerity. "I must have been stepping on your gown. My bad."

I scowled at her and glanced down at my hem. Sure enough, there was a footprint on the back hem. Bitch.

"How very clumsy of me," she cooed.

I looked her up and down. "That's all right. Even with a footprint, I still look loads better than you."

Her smug smile faded and her eyes glittered with hate.

I gave her my sweetest look, gathered my skirts high so she couldn't step on them again, and marched forward.

"Remember," the assistant told me. "Pause at the top of the stairs, then walk down slowly. The billionaire will be waiting for you at the bottom."

"Got it," I told him, and stepped out into the next room.

The ballroom was a thing of beauty. I gasped at the sight of it, momentarily dazzled. The ceiling was nothing but frescoes of blue skies puffed with white clouds, and in the center of this was a tiered chandelier dripping with crystals. The staircase was like something out of Gone with the Wind, marble steps curving around a black wrought iron banister made of delicate, twisting designs. At the bottom of the staircase stood Heathcliff, resplendent in a black tuxedo.

The music changed as I got to the top of the stairs, and I suddenly got nervous as I felt all eyes on me. Placing a hand on the railing, I paused at the top as I'd been instructed, and then began to slowly descend.

It was a good thing the instructions had been to 'slowly' descend, because the marble steps, although gorgeous, were slippery and I was in high heels. Carefully, I moved down the stairs, maneuvering my skirts with my other hand. When I got to the bottom, I expected to see that sardonic, amused look on Heathcliff's perfect face.

To my surprise, his expression was...unreadable. His brows were drawn together slightly, as if seeing something he couldn't quite process. That was a little disappointing. I'd wanted to impress him with my appearance, to make him regret what he was missing out on. Instead, he just looked slightly puzzled.

"Everything all right?" I asked, keeping my voice light as I put my hand in his outstretched one.

Heathcliff nodded slowly. "I was just wondering how it was that all the air seemed to leave the room just now." He bent over my hand and kissed the back of it. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you knock the breath out of me. You always have."

Oh. Stunned at this revelation, I lost any sort of witty retort I was building for a comeback and remained quiet as he led me across the ballroom and over to the side, where the other contestants were lined up.

I stood in place and waited as he walked away, moving back to his spot so Kimberly could come down the stairs, and his words kept replaying in my mind over and over again.

You knock the breath out of me. You always have.

The gorgeous marble tile floor was as slippery as the steps under my shoes, and I was afraid to even twitch lest I land on my ass in a heap of seashells and white skirts. I held myself carefully as Heathcliff led Kimberly across the floor, and she swanned her way toward us as if she'd never had an awkward moment in her life. Naturally. I pulled my skirts away as she moved into place next to me.

Next came Diamond and Jenni F, both glowing with happy smiles and clinging to Heathcliff's strong arm. He led each one to her place, and when the final woman stepped into her spot, the music stopped.

A butler arrived with a gleaming silver tray, and upon it, five flowers and two creamy envelopes. Heathcliff gave us all his regular cocky smile, then plucked the first envelope off of the tray. He pulled out a thick piece of paper, unfolded it, and began to read. "Before tonight's Decision Ceremony, you will dance one dance with each lady, and then once more with the lady of your choice. Once all dances are concluded, the Decision Ceremony will begin." He refolded the paper and clasped his hands behind his back. "I feel I should apologize to the ladies at this point, because I am a terrible dancer."

A rush of giggles escaped the women, and I admit, I had to stifle a chuckle myself. Damn Heathcliff. Why did he have to be so charming? Why couldn't he be a dick twenty-four seven?

He'd be so much easier to hate that way.

"Well, then," Heathcliff said, smiling. "If you ladies aren't running at the thought of having to dance with me, we might as well start." He went to the front of the line and extended his arm to Becca. "Shall we?"

The strains of a slow, romantic song began, and music flooded the ballroom. I watched, stricken, as Heathcliff led Becca out onto the floor and then enfolded her into his arms.

Slow dancing. Of course we were all slow dancing. This wasn't an old movie. No one was going to waltz.

But still...did they have to look so good together as they danced? Did she have to tuck her head against his shoulder so perfectly? Did he have to lean in and whisper to her?

An elbow hit me in the ribs. "Close your mouth," Leona whispered.

Was my mouth open? I promptly shut it. "Thanks."

"You look upset."

"I do?"

"Yeah, every time you see him with someone else, you look as if you were punched. You sure you're over him?"

"Positive," I lied. Positive I was lying to myself, at least.

"All right," she said slowly. "But when we get back to the room, you and I need to talk a bit."

I gave her a curious look, but she lifted her chin, indicating something over my shoulder. I glanced over and sure enough, Kimberly was leaning in. No doubt she wanted to hear all the details about the date, too.

"We'll talk later," I agreed with Leona, and Kimberly straightened, scowling.

The song ended eventually, and, laughing and smiling, Heathcliff and Becca returned to our lineup. He turned to Leona next, glancing over at me for a moment before turning back to her. "May I have this dance, lady?"

"But of course," she teased back. They laughed, they danced, and I stood in my finery and tried not to care. Eventually, their dance was over, though, and then they came back to where I stood, waiting.

Heathcliff turned to me, the full force of that dazzling smile in my direction. He extended his arm. "Juno?"

I placed my hand in his, and as I stepped forward, my shoe slid on the slick flooring.

He caught me just as I nearly went face-first into his chest. "Whoa, you okay?"

How humiliating. "I'm fine," I said, then leaned over and tugged one of my ridiculous shoes off, then the other. "But if I'm going to move, these have to go."

He chuckled. "I always did remember you liked to go barefoot."

Heat flushed my cheeks, and I wondered what else he remembered. I took his arm again and then we went out onto the dance floor. Romantic music cued up, and Heathcliff's arm went to my waist, and then he pulled me against him, my hand clasped in his. We began to move, and I realized Heathcliff was lying about his dancing skills. He was a terrific dancer, his movements smooth and easy.

"So," I said, since neither of us was speaking. "Are you...having fun? As the bachelor?"

"Yes and no," he said, voice low enough that only I could hear it.

"What's the 'yes' part?"

"Yes, because I get to see your beautiful face every day," he told me.

I frowned, thinking of his private dates with Kimberly and Leona. If he was so into me, why date them? "So what's the no part?"

"I...thought everyone would take this less seriously." He grimaced. "That they would see it as it really is - a silly dating show."

I chuckled, because I'd thought the same thing when I first met the other contestants. They were beautiful, but they were not here thinking this was a casual lark. "What gave you your first clue?"