Page 25 of The Billionaire Love Match

NINE

Casey began to rethinkher position of not tearing up her contract when she realized her group date was volleyball. On the Venice Beach. In a bathing suit. At seven in the morning. Two of those three wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t all being filmed. Her butt in a bathing suit on a 60-inch plasma made her feel itchy. And of course, Casey was the only one who wasn’t showing off a model-esque body in a string bikini.

Her body was fine. She knew this objectively, and because Amanda assured her of it anytime she had the normal plague of self-consciousness. But these other women were FINE, not fine. Abs. Toned shoulders. Tanned. All things perky that should be perky.

Casey tried to adjust the bottom of her simple black one-piece without looking like she was pulling the fabric out of her rear. Amanda, who had way more fashion sense than Casey, had picked this suit. It was expensive and understated and looked great. But compared to the other women, she looked like a grandma and felt like a giant dork.

Volleyball was just icing on the cake. “Casey” and “athletic” were not words that fit together in a sentence. Not that the other women were that much better. Their muscular physiques clearly came from weight-lifting and not actual sports. Colt wasn’t even great. Their game, which was going to be some of the most quality television in years, mostly consisted of the ball hitting the sand. Or the net, then the sand. Once, it hit Casey in the neck, almost sending her to the ground.

The producers mercifully cut it short so that each of the four women could spend one-on-one time with Colt.

“Just hang out here,” he said. “We’ve got beach chairs, some towels, or feel free to swim while you’re waiting for your turn.”

Casey sat just at the edge of the shore, where every few minutes a wave would rush over her feet and ankles, but not enough to get her soaked. She loved the beach and hardly got here enough. Between work and traffic and just the effort it took to cross LA for a day on the sand, she hardly ever came.

The calming presence of the waves helped keep her from watching every second of Colt’s one-on-one times with the other women. Of course, she was human, so she glanced every so often. Becca’s was hardest to ignore since they were right out in front of her, doing the whole standing paddleboard thing. She kept splashing Colt with her paddles while it looked like he was simply trying to escape.

Colt and Erin, whose name Casey only knew because of this date, built a sandcastle with shovels and buckets that had four-cornered bottoms to make turrets. Since each one-on-one was about twenty minutes, the castle ended up being smaller than the pile of plastic building tools.

Kendall had the misfortune of rollerblading. Casey glanced back only once or twice to see her (and Colt) painfully making their way along the boardwalk, clinging to the rail. Probably to save themselves a lawsuit, Kendall and Colt had on full gear and helmets. Casey imagined a production vehicle like a clown car—emptying itself of paddleboards and skates and plastic beach toys.

“You’re up next,” a voice said from behind her. It was the intern with the glasses. She’d only seen him one or two times. He held out his hand to pull her up.

“Thanks, Mark.”

“We’ll film for a few minutes, just getting your thoughts on the date so far and what you’re excited about in terms of spending time alone with Colt.”

“Okay.”

Mark disappeared with a shy smile as the various sound and camera people descended. Generally the women were responsible for their own makeup, but they powdered her face, likely to avoid a shiny glare.

“Ready?” one of the producers asked. She nodded. “Just be natural. Tell us why you’re excited to spend time with Colt.”

Casey’s tongue felt thick and unwieldy. “I’m excited to spend time with Colt today.” She laughed, realizing how trite that sounded. “I’m sorry. That just sounded so dumb.”

“Just keep talking,” he said. “We’ll keep rolling and we will get something we can edit later. You’ll loosen up as you go.”

Brushing her bangs aside, she continued: “It’s really hard to be on these group dates or in the mansion with the other girls—everywhere except where I want to be. Which is with Colt. I feel like...we have a connection. But it’s so hard to know how much is real and what’s just a show. I mean, right now, I can see him over there, roller skating with another woman. Normal life isn’t like this. The time with him helps me feel centered. I think that the more I’m with him and just him, the more I’ll know if this is true. Or if it’s just chemistry. Or just a game.”

The last word came out as a whisper and Casey knew that her fears and doubts were all over her face.

“Talk more about your chemistry.”

She tried to hold a blush at bay. “Um, sure. When I first met Colt, it was awkward.”

Casey tried to envision both the official time they met on set and their bathroom meeting. “I didn’t really know who he was. To me he was just a handsome guy that I felt an instant connection with. And I’m not a person who believes in that kind of thing.” She laughed. “Then when he came to my apartment and asked me to be on the show, I was really hurt, but so glad to see him again. I couldn’t say no. I hate everything about doing reality TV. I didn’t think it would be so bad. But it’s giving me the chance to get to know Colt, so I’m glad.”

She stopped and looked around at the crew. “Is that okay?”

The cameraman lowered his camera and stepped back away to the staging area they’d set up in a tent nearby. Crowds had begun to gather, she realized. Not just the normal throng of Venice Beach people, but people here for the show. Filming on their phones, taking selfies with all the action going on in the background. Obviously starting early had been to avoid as much of this as possible. She yawned. More coffee was definitely needed.

“Colt’s coming back, so give us a minute and then we’ll film the start of your date,” Mark the intern said.

“What are we doing? I mean, what’s left now that paddle boarding and all the other activities have been done.”

Mark smiled. “A walk on the beach.”

“Oh.”

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