Page 15 of The Charm Offensive
He doesn’t hear what she says next. He’s already hung up.
“I made flash cards!” Dev shouts in lieu of a morning greeting when Charlie enters the kitchen dressed in salmon-colored shorts, boat shoes, and an oatmeal V-neck. Dev, meanwhile, is wearing a slight variation of his first-night outfit: tragic cargo shorts, an oversize T-shirt, and the same sneakers Charlie vomited on. He’s got a breakfast burrito in one hand and a coffee thermos in the other, and Charlie barely has time to grab the index cards off the kitchen counter before Jules is shoving a plate of craft services food into his other hand and ushering them both into a town car. On the drive to set, Charlie reads through Dev’s study tool. On one side of each card is a photo of a woman next to her name. On the back is Dev’s handwritten commentary in a sloppy script, little asides to Charlie.
Angie Griffin, the first card says, with a photo of the woman who danced with him.24, San Francisco; Australian cattle dog named Dorothy Parker; starting medical school at UCSF in September. Hella smart. Almost made you laugh once.
He flips to the next card and sees the woman in the blue dress.Daphne Reynolds, 25, Atlanta; social worker and former Miss Georgia runner-up; loves (in no particular order) Jesus, her parents, romantic comedies starring Meg Ryan, and chicken wings. We filmed the scene five times, so help me God if you forget her again.
Sabrina Huang, 27, Seattle; travel blogger; tattoo sleeve on her left arm; used to play bass in a punk band; too cool for you? Probably.
Megan Neil, 24, Tampa; is probably the villain, which means you will have to keep her for at least four weeks.
Lauren Long, 25, Dallas; blond. That’s… it? I know nothing else about her. Goal for today: learn one fact about Lauren L.!
Overwhelmed and mildly nauseated, Charlie hands the cards back to Dev and presses his forehead against the cool glass of the car. Dev proceeds to explain the setup for the first Group Quest: Sixteen grown women will beat each other senseless with foam noodles in a historically inaccurate pantomime of a jousting tournament to determine his future bride.
Dev doesn’t explain it in thoseexactwords, but Charlie gets the gist.
The town car pulls up to a UCLA soccer field that’s been ever-so-slightly Ren faired for the occasion. He is immediately whisked away by the makeup artist, then a hairstylist, then Dev again, who positions him on one edge of the field. From across the way, the women are gathered together by their handlers, and when Skylar Jones gives the signal, all sixteen women rush at Charlie, leaping into his arms ecstatically in greeting.
He hugs each woman in turn, counts his Mississippis, feels his forced smile strain at the corners. Between scenes, Dev pulls him aside under the guise of fixing his crown. He hand-sanitizes and warns Charlie in advance. “Are you okay?” Dev whispers, his fingers winding through Charlie’s hair.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi. “Uh…?”
“Do you need a minute to recalibrate?”
Recalibrate. He forgot he used that word. He doesn’t often try to explain his mind to other people. On the rare occasions he does, other people don’t tend to listen.
“No.” He sighs. “I’ll be fine.”
He is, mostly, fine.
He stands on the sidelines for most of the day. The women are divided into two teams, and the producers line up each woman’s individual opponent based on what they believe will lead to the most drama. Intimidating-looking Sabrina (with her arm tattoos and her facial piercings and gravelly voice) is pitted against waifish Daphne with the intent of clearly turning Sabrina into a villain by having her injure the woman who most looks like a Barbie doll come to life. Except it turns out Daphne has secret upper body strength and Sabrina has a secret fear of being smacked in the face with a pool noodle. They sprint at each other chanting battle cries that quickly dissolve into a fit of giggles as Sabrina chickens out at the last minute, and she and Daphne somehow end up on their backs on the grass, laughing hysterically like old friends.
Most of the contestants make a joke out of it except Megan, who loudly declares to the cameras—a little too on the nose—that she intends to win more time with him, not bond with the other women. She succeeds magnificently at the latter goal, plunging her lance into the throats of her opponents until three different women cry.
When med-student Angie squares off against Megan in the final round, Megan charges across the field with unnecessary aggression. At the last second, Angie swerves to avoid being lanced in the face, and she trips, reaches out for balance with her free hand, and catches the edge of Megan’s shirt. They both go down hard.
Producers and medics rush the field while Charlie watches uselessly from the sidelines.
“Ow!”Megan cries out, clutching her arm. “I think it’s broken!”
Angie has already pulled herself off the grass. “I’m so sorry! I panicked and tripped!”
“Youattacked me on purpose!”
“I didn’t!”
Megan quivers her lip into the nearest camera. “That was not an accident!”
“Go comfort her,” Dev hisses as he appears at Charlie’s side.
“But it was obviously Megan’s fault,” he hisses back.
“Mic.” Dev nudges Charlie forward with a sharp elbow, and he stumbles toward the carnage. Awkwardly hovers over the woman pretending to be injured.
Then Dev is at his side again, demonstrating how to do this. Dev crouches down next to Megan, and Charlie follows, squatting beside him, shoulder to shoulder. Dev whispers, “Hold her hand.”
The words tickle the sensitive skin behind Charlie’s ear, and he feels heat rise to his cheeks as his fingers intertwine with Megan’s.
