Page 28 of House of Deceit

Lucas and Penelope are making eyes at each other, and I wonder how long it will take them to get physical. There are a few relationships that have come out of the house as the years have gone on. It’s normal, really. You’re locked up with people and have nothing to do but get to know each other.

Keith’s salt and pepper hair—more salt than pepper—and the weathered look of his skin tell me he is the oldest one in the group. His pressed, checkered shirt, worn jeans, and cowboy boots paired with his gruff, no-nonsense demeanor endears him to me immediately.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Parker,” the blond says. Besides Alec, Parker is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen in person. His hair is thick, wavy, and past his shoulders. His beard is well-kept and accentuates his sharp jawline. A straight, strong nose and burning green eyes stare right at me.?His broad shoulders press against the seams of his shirt, the material hugging his muscles nicely.

“Hi, Parker,” we all intone. Very group therapy of us.?I break the eye contact, but am quickly pulled back to his gaze.

“I am from Chicago. I own a construction company and like to play rugby on the weekends.”

Short. Simple. To the point. I like it. My eyes have been drawn to Parker ever since the lights came on.

After they’ve all introduced themselves, I stand.

“Hi, I’m Charlie and I’m here because my best friend and I had too much tequila and a computer with internet access.” A few give me soft laughs, but I don’t want attention focused on me any longer. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m ready to explore.” It seems those are the exact words everyone was waiting to hear. Without further ado, everyone gets up and breaks off in different directions. Mary Ella looks around, her eyes big. She looks like a horse about to spook. I walk up to her.

“Hi, I’m Charlie,” I remind her just in case, like me, she didn’t catch everyone’s name. “Would you like to explore with me?”

She smiles at me with relief, and I know I did the right thing, not leaving this girl to fend for herself. I couldn’t imagine being dropped into a house of strangers as one of the youngest in the group.

“That would be so great. Thank you.” She grabs my hand and links our fingers. I stare at it briefly before shrugging and going with it.

The house is full of twists and turns and long hallways. Some rooms are set up more formally than others. Leather couches that look like they belong in a distinguished professor’s house. Heavy drapes that block the sun. Chandeliers dripping down from the ceiling. These rooms feel more like they belong in a palace, not a house being used in a reality TV competition.

Sounds of laughter and talking filter through the house as we continue on our way.

Other rooms are very casual. Deep, soft chairs and sofas. Eclectic collections of paintings and artwork line the various walls. Never having been in a home like this, I wonder if there were multiple designers or if the more relaxed vibes were added by the producers themselves to give us somewhere more comfortable. I almost feel sorry for the house with rooms that may not see a soul on a normal basis, but now has twenty people calling it home, sure to defile its perfection with their presence.?

By the time Mary Ella and I walk back through the living room we all started in, our chairs have been removed and the couches are moved from the wall. The production team seems to work in a way that disturbs us as little as possible.

My subconscious can hear Mary Ella telling me all about her various family members, but the size of the kitchen is pulling my focus.

Large is an understatement for the room. There are two of each of the appliances. Two ovens. Two dishwashers. Two refrigerators. In one refrigerator there are bins with each person’s name to hold the snacks they’ve requested or won. The dining room is off the kitchen with a long table. Each season varies. In some seasons, the contestants decide to have a nightly family dinner. Others, everyone fends for themselves. I wonder which kind we will be. As people leave the mansion, the table will get smaller and smaller.

There are multiple living rooms, one with the only TV in the house for the elimination meetings and any announcements Jacob Jacobson needs to make to us.?

“—and that was when I really lost my virginity. Do you think the other time counted? I asked my best friend and she says no because he was thrusting between my leg and the bed, but I—”

We turn the corner and Mary Ella’s jabbering drops away once more. The library is extensive and has a rolling ladder. I think I orgasm at the sight. Books line every shelf. There must be thousands. Making a mental note of its location, we carry on.

The bathroom is the size of my apartment. Showers and sinks in one room are communal. On each side, there are hallways that lead to the separate toilets. I breathe a deep sigh of relief that this season, the stalls are not in the bathroom themselves, lowering the likelihood any noises will be picked up, which will be a relief to everyone back home. Further down the hallways, I come to the joint dressing room.?

Each person has their wardrobe. The faceless people behind the scenes have already unpacked our bags. There are circular tables with lighted mirrors and tons of electrical outlets for anyone wishing to style their hair.?

In the back of the house, tucked away in a forgotten wing are three locked doors. One is labeled “Production,” another “Interview,” and the third is blank.

The interview room will be where my meetings with Alec are held. Each person meets there with their wrangler to discuss anything and everything. While there are specific times some of these conversations will happen, like after the competitions, the contestants can also call out in the house to meet with their wrangler. Whenever the wrangler is ready, they will request the contestant come to the interview room over the intercom system in the house.

During our time together after I decided to keep Alec as my wrangler, he made sure to give me the packet of all the ins and outs of filming.

Interviews with the wranglers, or the confessionals, are some of the best parts of the episodes. Courtney and I love what people tend to share when they finally have a moment where no other contestants are around. Their true feelings can really come out.

The best room of the entire house is locked, but it’s the same every season. The elimination challenge comes with a special privilege. The winner of the challenge is not only safe from elimination, but they get their own bedroom. They enjoy privacy, an ensuite bathroom, and no chores. And I want to be in that room as much as possible.

I drop Mary Ella off at the room that has her and three other’s names by the door, and let her get to know her new roommates. My finger traces the shell of my ear. I thought it had fallen off from how much she talked. Even with not giving her my full attention, much of Mary Ella’s life story has taken root inside my brain. Against my will, I now know all about Mary Ella’s cheerleading career, how she lost her virginity, the names of every family member she has, and how she had really wanted to go on House of Desire. She thought her boyfriend, Beau, would propose when they graduated college. That was always the plan. But he got cold feet and broke up with her in their senior year. I would have broken up with her as well. She’s a sweet girl, if very naïve. But after she was rejected to participate in a competition for the heart of a random bachelor, this became her backup.

My roommates have all claimed their beds by the time I stroll in from my exploring, which means mine is closest to the door. It doesn’t bother me. Courtney often says I can sleep through a tree falling on the house.

“Hey, girl. I’m Molly, fellow ginger.” A towering, showstopper of a woman stands from her bed and moves over to me, flicking her copper red hair over her shoulder. Even with my taller-than-average height, I only come up to her chin. Her energy is warm and inviting. The freckles smattering her nose and cheeks are endearing. She wraps me in a hug, and I sink into it. “What do you think the best part of being a cat would be?”

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