One To Watch(23)

“But what if they don’t love spending time with me?” Bea hated herself for letting her insecurities creep in like this, but the closer they got to air, the more she could feel her anxiety taking hold. “What if they hate me, and the audience does too?”

“I promise, that’s not going to happen,” Lauren reassured her. “I have a plan for tonight specifically to guarantee that everyone in America will be rooting for you.”

“Plan?” Bea was skeptical. “What kind of plan? Why don’t I know about it?”

“Because I need your reactions on camera to be genuine!” Lauren grinned. “So don’t worry, okay? I’ve got your back, Bea. We all do.”

“If you say so,” Bea grumbled, but she still found it difficult to believe that everything was really going to work out as perfectly as Lauren insisted.

They’d arrived in the mansion’s entryway: Just outside the front door, the lawn had been transformed into a makeshift studio, complete with a stage, a barrage of light and camera setups, and a live audience of a hundred Main Squeeze superfans, all of whom had won an Instagram contest for the privilege of being there, and whose feverish chatter Bea could hear through the door over the whir of the enormous generators powering the whole operation.

“Hey, Bea.” Mack, a bushy-bearded sound guy in his fifties, arrived to mic Bea up. “You ready?”

Bea nodded, feeling less and less sure that she actually was.

“Where are the men now?” she asked Lauren as Mack placed a microphone pack in a specially molded pocket Alison had affixed to the back of Bea’s jumpsuit.

“In a trailer outside.” Lauren paused, hearing something come through on her headset. “Okay, Bea, we’re five out from air—I’ve got to get to the control room. How do you feel? Are you good?”

Bea opened her mouth to say something—anything—but she couldn’t find the words. Lauren laughed.

“Yeah, I know, it’s a lot. You’re going to kick ass, okay? Just go out there and be brazen and bold and unapologetically yourself. Failing that, just smile and say you’re ready for love.”

Bea forced herself to nod, and then Lauren was gone.

“Bea, can you say something for me? I need to test your level.”

“What should I say?” she asked Mack. He smiled kindly.

“Tell me what you’re most excited about for tonight.”

Bea knew what she was supposed to say: that she was excited to potentially meet her future husband. But she didn’t believe that, and she didn’t really want to lie about it—not when there weren’t any cameras to pretend for.

“I’m excited for all the little girls who are going to watch this and think, She looks like me.”

Mack gave Bea a warm smile, and in the next instant, a producer was tugging on Bea’s sleeve, leading her out the front door, down the wide stone steps, and into the living rooms of several million Americans.





TWITTER THREAD FROM USER @REALI-TEA


@Reali-Tea Okay shippers & sippers, time for the season premiere of Main Squeeze! Let’s see if a lady of largesse can find love on our teevees. Ready?!

@Reali-Tea … but first, one million corporate sponsors. Bea uses Lucky Lippies Lipstick in her everyday life? WHAT A COINCIDENCE, they’re also advertisers on ABS!

@Reali-Tea Ok ok ok, Bea’s doing her live interview with Johnny, she’s excited to meet her men, FRANKLY SAME. WHERE ARE THEY?

@Reali-Tea Ah, well. Time for a commercial break. Hiya, Lucky Lippies!

@Reali-Tea HERE WE GO, the first guy is about to walk onstage! Bea looks nervous but maybe a little amped? Go get ’em, sister. We’re with you.

@Reali-Tea Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

@Reali-Tea I don’t know if I can actually watch this.





It only took a few seconds for Bea to get used to the lights. In a way, they were helpful; she couldn’t see the audience or the crew, only what was happening onstage a few feet in front of her. For her first several minutes on camera, that was restricted to Johnny Ducey’s crookedly attractive face, made somehow stranger and blurrier by a combination of Botox and the uppers Bea was quite sure he hadn’t kicked, as if he were now a wax model of the movie star he used to be.

Johnny asked Bea all the softball questions Lauren had prepped her for, and Bea delivered all her scripted answers, eliciting the appropriate laughter, empathy, and applause from the studio audience. By the time they broke for the first commercial, Bea was feeling much calmer. This wasn’t a massive first date on live TV where it actually mattered what the men across the table thought of her—it was the highly scripted opening act of a story with a preordained ending. This was just the requisite meet-cute that would lead to romantic dates and declarations of love and, eventually, a picture-perfect engagement. Lauren had a plan—all Bea had to do was follow it.

When the commercial break was over, Bea stood at her mark at center stage. Behind the mansion, the sun was setting over the Pacific, and the whole set was bathed in a soothing pink glow, accentuated by the warm lights.

Bea smiled placidly as her first suitor walked toward her.

He was backlit at first, but as he came into focus, Bea took in his broad shoulders and narrow waist, his muscles rippling beneath the perfectly fitted fabric of his Italian wool suit, his thick golden hair, warm brown eyes. He was looking at her with distaste—or maybe, worse, disgust.