Page 25 of House of Desire

“Hey, Anastasia,” he says. The way his voice caresses the vowels and consonants makes me think of stolen moments and hidden desires.

“Hey, Parker,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. I hope everyone thinks the blush I can feel coloring my cheeks is from the heat and not his attention. “You can call me Anya.”

I may not know anything about the man, but he is definitely sexy as sin.

He offers me his arm, which I take despite knowing it will further separate me from the other girls. Except Zoey. She doesn’t care if Parker shows interest in someone who isn’t her. She’s just here to ‘meet a cool person, and see if we click.’

Before anyone else can take the opportunity, Emily grabs on to Parker’s other arm as he turns me toward the building.

We all walk in, the cameras following our every moment, making sure to pick up on any last-minute reactions we might have. I try to make sure my face is showing serenity, but based on Dom’s jokes when he caught me practicing facial expressions in the mirror before I left, I’m not sure it’s working.

Inside the rather nondescript building, a red carpet is laid, leading us toward the people who presumably work here, waiting at the end.

The woman standing in the center of the group, dressed in an impeccably ironed suit, steps forward.

“Hello, Parker and ladies. Welcome to Born to be a Star, where everyone gets to pretend to be a musical star. We are so excited to have you.” She motions to the men on either side of her. “We will be helping you this afternoon as you try your hand at being a rock star!”

Instructed to clap after the welcome by a member of production riding in the front of the limo, we do so now. Despite the clapping, I know we are all freaking out.

Except Lucy, our semi-professional singer.

I have done some embarrassing things in my time dating.

I’ve driven a date home because he didn’t want to take an Uber after ignoring me the entire time to check scores on ESPN when I said I didn’t want to talk about my favorite sexual position. I had helped a man catch his loose chicken instead of going to our dinner reservations.

Somehow, I ended up conned into taking a kitten home with me despite the fact Dom lived with me at the time and he was allergic.

I have even baked a last-minute cake for the birthday of one guy’s mom, only to find out he had a girlfriend when she came with him to pick it up. He was so pale, I thought he was going to pass out.

But this will take the cake.

I’d think being on House of Desire would be the most embarrassing since it basically announces to the world I’m the worst type of single.

Desperate.

But no.

Singing in front of, minimally, ten strangers probably tops the list.

“Ladies, if you’ll follow me,” the woman says, leading us to the right while one of her assistants takes Parker to the left. Isabella waves goodbye to Parker, blowing him a kiss. He merely smiles at the gesture and as she turns from him, I see her face fall ever so slightly.

We are led down a short hallway and through a door labeled ‘Costumes’. Once we are all inside and standing in the middle, two of the camera people direct their lens at us while one records the woman giving us instructions.

“Tonight will be a lot of fun and a chance for you all to showcase your talents. You may wear any of these costumes. They are separated by genre and then in order of size. Each genre has two outfits in every size from XS to 5XL. There are mirrors around the room, as you can see. There are lockers and changing rooms through that door,” she says, pointing to the door on the left. “If anyone is musically inclined, we have a few instrument options, just let one of us know. I also have this for whichever one of you is Lucy?” She holds out an envelope with Lucy’s name on the front. It looks exactly like the one Butler Sam brought to us in the game room.

Lucy snatches the envelope out of her hand, thanking her as she rips it open.

“Ladies, it’s time to show me the song of your soul. The winner of this event, as determined by a panel of judges and myself, will get to go on a solo date with me while the others go back to the mansion. Make sure to bring your best,” Lucy reads.

I vaguely wonder if I’m allowed to sit out of the game or if Parker would be required to send me home. I don’t want to go home. Not only because of the chance to show off my bakery during the hometown visits that air during week eight when the remaining four contestants will take Parker home to meet their families. But also because the initial spark I’m feeling for Parker might turn into a crush.

However, part of me knows this group date is more a waste of time than anything. Being forced to listen to me sing will be the quickest way to kill any spark Parker might be feeling toward me.

“You have ten minutes to get dressed, starting now!” says one of the workers of Born to be a Star.

Like a bomb went off in the room, we are all blown away to different areas, the camera people following us around as we go to look at the various costume offerings. Sucking it up, I move over to the rack of clothes with ‘Folk’ over them. The clothes are subdued earth tones and simple designs. I find my size on the rack and look at the two options available. Grabbing the russet red dress, I move toward the changing room door, my camera person abandoning me to change in peace.

Before I know it, we are standing in the wings of a theater. I am trying to convince my body that passing out is more embarrassing than singing in front of a crowd. It doesn’t entirely believe me. My vision dances with little spots, but at least I’m remaining upright. For the time being.

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