Walk of Shame (7 page)

Troy smiled and gave the would-be
audience enough of a pause to ponder what I'd said. "Who impressed you the
most, do you think?"

I rolled my lips together between
my teeth, trying to think. "I don't think I can answer that. Too many
stood out, and all for different reasons. I don't think I can pick just
one."

"Okay, fair enough. Could
you tell me who you think is the front runner, at this point?"

I smiled and rolled my eyes.
"That's the same question, just using different words. But fewer men did
pass through my mind this time."

"And what was the deal with
the flowers?"

"There were too many to keep
track of. Names, attributes, personalities, and jobs! I had to categorize the
ones that left me with the more remarkable impressions, so I didn't
accidentally get rid of someone I really liked but got them confused with
another man."

"What's your biggest fear
with this whole situation?"

I sighed. "My biggest fear
is that I am going to make a mistake and send Mr. Right home before I've had a
chance to find out how right he is for me. It's hard to make a determination
with so little to go on. I can tell you that the ones who didn't choose to show
up in suits made a bigger impression on me than those who did. It really
factors in greatly to who's going home tonight. Is that fair of me? I don't
know. But I sure hope I'm not sending the wrong guy home because he has a
limited cultural history, like I do."

"And, lastly, were there any
red flags that went up tonight?"

"Yes. There were a few. A
couple red flags about jobs and their compatibility with the lifestyle I want.
A couple I have to question if they're here to find love or to promote
themselves. But only one major red flag was raised about what I perceive his
expectations of a wife might be. I just was not caring for the vibe I was
getting off him."

"A culture-clash,
perhaps?"

"Not necessarily. I just
feel he happens to be looking for meek and obedient. And I am rarely either one
of those."

"All right. If you're ready,
we can go and put these men out of their misery for tonight."

"I'm ready."

The cameras cut and we stood. I
followed him back into the ballroom.

Set Design had quickly
deconstructed the platform while I was doing the interview with Troy. Now there
were risers at one end, upon which all the guys were now standing. I was to be
standing at the other end of the room. Each week, the distance between us would
grow smaller and smaller, subliminally signifying that our relationships were
growing closer and closer.

I entered through a door behind
the crew that was all lined up on what would be my left. I walked in on Troy's
arm as he led me to my end. When I looked up at the guys, my eyes were drawn to
a chart set up on an easel, also to the left. Someone had made me a cheat sheet
with all their names written in the order they were standing in. I guessed that
was in case I couldn't see all the nametags behind the heads of the guys
standing in front of them.

Troy paused long enough for all
the red camera lights to come on. "All right, gentlemen. Emmaline is going
to choose which thirteen men she is interested in getting to know better. Usually
we only allow twelve, but with the addition of an extra contender this time,
we'll give her a chance to get to know everyone remaining before having her
eliminate the extra spot.

Gentlemen, if your name is
called, you have a choice. Accept her offer to stay and get to know her more,
and line up along the side wall, opposite the cameras, or decline the offer and
make your goodbyes. If you're name is not called, she is not inviting you to
stay and you then make the
Walk of Shame
, past the chosen men and on out
to the awaiting cars."

Troy turned back to me, "Are
you all set?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"All right." He pulled
away and stepped back.

It was up to me to address the gathering
now. I stood there and gazed out at the group of men assembled before me. "I'm
encouraged. I wasn't sure what kind of mayhem I was getting myself into by
agreeing to do this. And I've wondered if this wouldn't be the biggest mistake
of my life. But, I think, tonight has opened the doors to many possibilities.
And I stand here hopeful.

"There's a little girl
inside of my head who likes to live in a fantasy world where things are simple
and easy. A part of me had hoped that, on some level, I would, well... that I
would just somehow
know
who my husband would be, the moment I met him.
But that didn't happen. And I have to admit, tonight I've been so overwhelmed
by so many of you that I could be staring my future in the face and I wouldn't
recognize it. My head is spinning with possibilities. And it's going to take me
awhile to process everything I've learned about all of you tonight.

"I want each of you to know
that in thinking about how hard it's been for me to have any kind of real
relationship, with the kind of nomadic life we lead, I've realized you've all
had a harder time. I know, that in my experience, there are fewer single women
living like this than there are single men. So, I understand where you're all
coming from and what would bring you here to do this, even with the odds
stacked sixteen to one against you.

"I can't promise any of you
that you'll make it to the end. But I can promise not to drag anyone along for
the ride just because I'm supposed to have a certain number of people here. If
there's nothing there between us, then I'll let you each go as soon as I figure
that out. I'm not here to waste your time anymore than I would expect you to
accept an invitation to stay when you're not feeling it and waste my time. We
all have lives and careers to get back to, and time spent away should be worth
it.

"So, without dragging this
out any longer, I'm going to start with my red-flowered men. Phillip?"

He smiled and moved to my
sideline.

The other three guys with the red
carnations were standing there with smirks on their faces, already knowing they
were safe.

"Ardent?"

He nodded and joined Phillip.

"Mike?"

He stepped down and walked over.

"Liam?"

He fell into line across from the
crew.

"And now my pink-flowered
gentleman, Stephan?"

He shared a smile with me before
joining the others, probably thinking about how he'd not wanted to swap colors.

Yamid puffed up, most likely
expecting to be called next. But he looked deflated when I called someone else
instead.

"Patrick?" I still
hadn't figured him out, not even a little. I was hoping, that with a week, he'd
open up a bit more and lose some of tonight's shyness.

"I'm sorry," he said
and stepped down to the floor. "I don't think this is for me."

I nodded back at him. "Okay.
It was nice to meet you."

He came forward and embraced me.
"It was nice meeting you." Then he whispered in my ear, "It's
not you. I just got more than I bargained for, coming here."

"No problem," I
whispered back, knowing the mics were going to pick it up anyway. Then a little
louder, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye. Good luck,"
he wished me.

"Thank you."

And he left. Off to do an exit
interview before being allowed into the car, I'm sure.

Yamid cleared his throat.

I smiled at him.

And he nodded, with authority.

I wasn't sure if it was because
he was used to running a portion of things back home, and was used to people
doing his bidding, or what. But I could tell you that right then and there, I was
done with it. He had no power over me, and with his attitude, he never would.

"Is there a problem,
Yamid?" I asked him.

"I'm wearing a flower,"
he said.

"I'm well aware. I placed it
there."

"You didn't call my
name."

I matched his indignant tone,
"Because you have a
white
carnation."

"And exactly what does that
mean?"

All eyes were on me. "It
means that I have absolutely no interest in you."

His face turned red about two
seconds before he stomped down to the floor, ripping the white carnation from
his clothing, and hurled an insult at me for being racist as he stormed on by.

He hadn't done his
Walk of Shame
very graciously.

I stood there trying to hold in
silent laughter. Some of the guys stood in shock. Others were just as amused as
I was.

Troy stepped forward.
"Obviously, we'll edit that out... If we'll all take a moment to look at
the sundae that Emma is trying to build, we can all see that only three out of
the five scoops she's chosen so far are vanilla-"

"Two," I corrected.

He looked back over at my grouping
of men and then back at me, "There aren't three?"

"Well, technically, I
suppose. But Liam's coated in butterscotch, and that's a whole different
flavor."

Troy cracked a smile while the
others chuckled. "And then you have your scoop of chocolate."

"Well, of course, because
I'm a girl and chocolate makes everything better."

"And Phillip?" Troy
asked, not sure if he should be egging me on to continue with this scenario or
not, but going with it nonetheless.

"He's, um..."

"I'm mocha latte,
baby," Phillip said with a smile.

"Damned right you are,"
I answered back.

You could tell Troy wanted to
shake his head at the fact that he'd all but lost control of the whole scene.
He looked over at the head of production with a look that asked 'what do you
want to do?'

The head of production made a
motion with his hand, "Let's just roll with it. Slow the pace and we'll
iron it out in the editing room."

"All right... Emma? What
other flavors would you like to add to the... dish?"

My smile spread. "Drake, a
girl needs more than one scoop of chocolate, would you join them?"

"Of course," and he
moved to join the line of men.

Troy waited a few seconds, ever
conscious of giving editing a spot to splice, and nodded to me.

"I could sure use a scoop of
caramel. Ardent?"

He smiled and moved to the side.

Troy paused and nodded.

"And I need my other
military hero, Trevor."

A look of relief passed through
his features before he stepped down and moved to the lineup.

I waited for Troy to nod before
continuing. I was out of guys that had made remarkable impressions on me. The
ones I would choose to round out the selection were being kept in the hopes
that once everyone was wearing their normal clothes, they'd have more of a fair
chance for making of a connection with me. One-by-one I called them, and
one-by-one they joined the line. James, Mitch, Mack, and Tyler.

"Emma, with Patrick choosing
to leave on his own, you have one more spot to fill," Troy said.

I looked from TJ to Darren,
neither one had sparked any interest on my part tonight. I looked over at Troy
and shook my head. "I'm good."

His smile turned just a shade
wry, "You don't want your thirteenth scoop?"

I smiled and shook my head again.
I had enough ice cream to go around. "No, thank you."

Troy clasped his hands together,
"All right. TJ, Darren, I'm sorry, but the time has come for you both to
leave."

They both did the traditional
Walk
of Shame
, past the line of keepers, and hugged me goodbye and wished me
luck before exiting.

Troy turned to me and gestured at
the men. "Are you pleased with your sundae?"

I looked the men over and nodded.
"Absolutely," then I paused in case network TV wouldn't like what was
about to come flying out of my mouth, "It looks like a damned yummy one,
too."

Troy bit back another laugh and
paused. "All right, gentlemen, we're going to bring this evening to a
close. I hope you've all enjoyed getting to know Emma, and each other. I
suggest you all use the next week to continue getting to know her more in depth.
Each week more of you will be eliminated and some of you will run out of time
sooner than others, so make this week count. And Emma? Keep your eyes open, you
never know when first impressions can be misleading."

The cameras cut off and the crew
wrapped.

The row of men started to relax
back on their heels and the line began to look a bit ragged.

Troy regained everyone's
attention. "Okay, okay. I know it's been a long day for everyone. Hang in
there with me for a few more moments and we'll get everyone settled in to get
some sleep.

"Men, crewmembers have
brought back all your overnight bags, that each of you brought to the hotel
this morning, when you met over there to get ready. Right now crewmembers are
finishing with getting your bags placed in rooms. All bedrooms being used are
on the second and third floors. On the doors to the rooms, you should find your
name. When you find the door with your name on it, go inside. Whichever bed has
your stuff on it is your bed for the week. It does not mean it's your bed
permanently, just for this week. There are more bedrooms than we are using
right now, but there aren't twelve and we didn't want to hear about how some
have to share while others don't. So, for now, you'll all share.

"A reminder that tomorrow,
or rather the rest of today, there are no formal gatherings planned. But there
will be cameras around.  They'll be observing you guys and your interactions,
and they'll be looking to interview you for your reactions on tonight's events.
But your first priority is sleep. Stock up on it now, get all pretty for the
cameras when you get up, and venture downstairs when you're ready. You can also
access whatever you want to bring up from your RVs at any point tomorrow.
Breakfast is on your own, if you're conscious by then, supplies are in the
fridge. A lunch buffet will be set up by the pool around one-ish. But someone
is going to have man the grill..." Troy looked around at the crew, trying
to see if there was anything he'd forgotten to tell them.