Page 58 of Knot Just for Show

When I get outside, Mav is already laid out on a pool lounger—eyes fixed far away beyond the bounds of the balcony.

Mav, by all accounts a cool, successful, absolute winner of a dude—looks as if he’d just got saddled with more bummers than he could carry.

I ask him what’s bothering him—and he just turns to me with this look in his eyes and tells me, “I’ve got a lot on my mind, man.”

Sure, cool—we’re on this wild ass show, not exactly surprising that a really decent dude like Mavren is gonna get jammed up worrying about hurting anyone else’s feelings in the process of this conquest. Makes total sense to me, so I offer my condolences, “Yeah dude, pretty rough when you’re stuck with feelings for multiple women,” I sigh, flipping over so that the sun can get the back side of me.

Mavren laughs wearily.

“If only that were the problem, man,” he sighs wistfully.

I prop myself up on one elbow, so that I can face him.

“So, wait—what’s the problem then?” I ask dumbly.

Mavren gives me an appraising once over.

“I dunno man, I’m not sure you’d ‘get it’…” He narrows his eyes, unwilling to give up the ghost.

“Try me.” I grin.

Mavren seems to consider it, but says nothing.

I wait another beat, in case he had just been gathering his thoughts, but since he’s continued to volunteer nothing but silence, I shrug and lay back down, face turned to the side, arms laid out flat alongside so that I might better bronze myself in the sun.

“I’m just learning a lot about myself during this process, man,” he finally sighs, just as I was beginning to wonder if he had gotten up and walked away.

“Ditto dude,” I laugh, rolling lazily onto my side to look at Mavren once more.

“Yeah, what has golden boy Teddy Wong discovered about himself?” Mavren laughs with a hint of condescension.

“I’m thinking about others more than just myself—about ‘love languages’ and that kinda shit…working on showing off the more dazzling facets of my sparkling personality.” I waggle my eyebrows for effect. “In order to really show off what’s up here.” I tap my temple gently. “I’ve been cooking up a little surprise for Miss Ursula this afternoon,” I proclaim boldly, running a hand over my abdominal muscles—working the excess tanning oil into the smooth skin absently as I share my plan with Mav.

“A surprise, eh?” he hums, watching me somewhat distractedly. “What kind of surprise?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” I tease—Mavren sighing in exasperation.

“Don’t worry—I’ll tell you and the guys tonight—assuming it goes well and she doesn’t just kick me to the curb.” I assure him, which seems to both appease him and call back that inquisitive expression.

That look that seems to want to ask something of me that Mavren wasn’t quite willing to ask out loud. What he could be too frightened to ask of me, I couldn’t possibly guess. He seems like the kind of guy who’s relentlessly sure of himself—that he’s had to be confident and self-contained to get to where he is now.

I watch him carefully as he shrugs and looks back to the pool.

What in the world could be so intimidating that he couldn’t ask little old me? A meat head he could easily dismiss without a second thought.

I don’t get a chance to find out. Timmy pokes his head out onto the deck and advises the two of us that there will be some schedule changes. Without another word, Mavren is on Timmy’s heels and I am left poolside with nothing but the soft sloshing noise of the filter, the background noise of the city beyond, and my own thoughts.

I spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon grooming myself, pestering Timmy for his assistance in assembling the various pieces necessary for me to execute my daring date plans with Ursula this evening, and running over potential scenarios for said date. I stride into my rendezvous with Ursula with a sort of nervous excitement I haven’t really felt since…well probably since I first started dating in high school.

The first to arrive, I pace back and forth several times—laying my fleece blanket over the arm of the small sofa and making several passes from one end of the modest three cushion couch to the other before ultimately taking a seat on the very edge of the cushion closest to the wall separating my bubble from Ursula’s.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the muffled click of her door latch through the wall. “Oho! What is this?” she crows happily as the sound of her voice draws closer.

Good. I breathe a little sigh of relief. If she’s asking, it means the small, gift-wrapped box and flowers have made their wayinto her bubble. Up until this moment, I hadn’t really been sure if Timmy and the other production staff would deliver.

Technically, there is no proof of what was in the box yet. There is still the possibility I am going to have to ease into plan B: Improvise.

Timmy’s face had attempted to look impassive when I’d made my somewhat bold request after he had delivered Mavren to points unknown this morning, but I knew that the raise of his brows was less the shock of a prude and more the barely disguised delight that he could bring such a juicy morsel to his boss, the lead producer.

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