Page 31 of Bargain with the Bachelor
I kicked myself for that prince comment. I’d never been much of a poker player. Oh well, the game wasn’t over. I’d have at least a few weeks with Kristal in my house every day to show her I was the right man for her.
We’d parted with a plan for her to move in on Monday. Which meant I had to go home and break it to my housemates that we were getting a new roomie.
A newfriend. Ugh.
I’d waited on pins and needles for Kristal’s answer to my proposal, and for just a few minutes there, after she’d agreed, it had felt like all my dreams were coming true. My hastily concocted plan had actuallyworked.
And then she’d slammed me right back into the friend zone with a few words.
It was high school all over again. She’d obviously forgotten all about our “seven minutes in heaven” while I had dwelled on it non-stop since that night a few months ago.
But still… I couldn’t gettoodown about things. She was moving in with me.
With me and six other housemates, but whatever, it was a start. And she wasn’t moving out of state. So there was still a chance for us.
There was also a chance Hap was going to kill me.
He was the first person I sought out when I got home. Hopefully my old friend would still be awake—and be willing to go along with the ruse.
Part of the story I’d told Kristal had been true—Hapwaslooking for his next big project, and hehadmentioned the idea of a reality show.
The rest had been pure invention.Yeah, we’re going to call it “invention” because “lie” has such an ugly ring to it.
At worst it was a white lie because I’d told it for the very best of reasons—to convince Kristal to accept my help.
I found Hap in the kitchen making a midnight snack—an enormous tuna sandwich. As Kristal had declined my offer to send the unfinished bottle of wine home with her, I plunked it onto the counter beside Hap’s plate.
“The sommelier recommends French chardonnay with tuna salad on whole wheat.”
Hap picked up the bottle, checking the label. “Looks fancy.” Pulling out the cork and sniffing the open neck, he said, “Smells expensive.”
“It was,” I said. “Consider it a bribe.”
Hap shot me a suspicious look. “A bribe, huh? What’s going on?”
“You know how you’ve been looking for the right show to produce?”
“Yeah…” Hap took a big bite of his sandwich but kept his eyes on me, paying attention.
“I’ve got an idea.”
Hap swallowed and swiped his mouth with a napkin. “Okay, shoot.”
“It’s a competition. Different teams live and work together, competing to produce the most innovative tech. An expert judging panel picks the winner from the competing houses and helps them market their finished product as the grand prize. Call it Tech House.”
My friend’s eyes brightened. “That’s not half-bad. There’s nothing like it in the market, but it’s not so different that no one would understand what it is. You gotta sell these things with one sentence, you know?”
Hap spread his hands apart in the air like he was visualizing a marquee. “It’s like Big Brother meets Shark Tank meets Robot Wars.”
“I haven’t seen that last one,” I said.
“It’s on BBC. Kinda fun. Nerdy guys building big boy toys.”
“Sounds familiar,” I joked. “So what do you think? Is it something you could pull off?”
Hap leaned back against the counter, lifting the wine bottle and taking a pull. “Whoa.” Giving the label a closer look, he said, “This stuff isgood.”
“It should be—that’s a six-thousand-dollar bottle of wine you just swigged like Coca Cola.”
