One To Watch(27)

And he spoke with a throaty French accent. Because of fucking course he did.

“You do not ’ave a sweet tooth?” he asked as he approached—a reference to the cupcake she’d just refused.

“I’ve been known to indulge,” she murmured, “under the right circumstances.”

He took her hand as if to shake it, or kiss it, but instead he just held it, his thumb tracing deliberate circles inside her palm, turning her insides molten.

“Well, I am a chef,” he quipped, “so perhaps I will discover the sweetness you desire.”

“I think I might like that.” Her face warmed with a genuine smile, this dazzling man temporarily erasing her ability to feel self-conscious.

“Pardon me if I am forward, Bea.” He dropped his voice and looked directly at her. “But I think you should have everything you want.”

“What’s your name?” she asked, the words little more than breath escaping her body.

He smiled and finally raised her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips against it.

“I am Luc,” he answered. “Enchanté.”

The moment should have been cheesy, but it was the opposite, somehow—it felt almost too intimate to be shown on camera. The barest touch of Luc’s lips on her skin was pure sex, and in that moment, all Bea wanted in the world was to leave the set with him and make everyone else disappear.

“And that’s the ball game!” Johnny interjected, reminding Bea her fantasy was impossible—and probably unwise. “When we come back, we’ll find out what Bea thinks of these men—and what they think about her—so stick around!”

Bea reluctantly let go of Luc’s hand, and PAs descended upon the stage to organize a semicircle of chairs and dole out enormous noise-canceling headphones to all twenty-five men—well, twenty-four, since one had made an untimely exit. For this next segment, Johnny would interview Bea about her impressions of the men while they sat directly behind her, listening to loud music and unable to hear a word she said. For the following segment, though, the dynamic would be reversed, and Bea would be forced to sit in ignorance while the whole group talked about her.

“So, Bea.” Johnny leaned in conspiratorially after shouting a few childish insults at the men to make sure they couldn’t hear him. “We’re all dying to hear what you think of these men! Pretty amazing group, am I right?”

The audience clapped appreciatively, and Bea understood the game: There was only one way a fat woman was supposed to feel when a trim man paid her attention.

“I’m so grateful,” she effused. “I mean seriously, how lucky am I that these incredible men were all willing to spend time away from their jobs, their families, their lives, just for the chance to meet me? It’s overwhelming.”

The applause level rose, and Bea knew she was playing her part correctly.

“It wasn’t all smooth sailing, though, was it?” Johnny’s face was lined with faux concern. “That was the first time in Main Squeeze history that a suitor walked off the show before the end of the season premiere.”

And that’s the headline Lauren’s PR machine will be pitching the second this episode is over, Bea thought bitterly.

“How did you feel when he walked away?”

“Well,” Bea answered frankly, “it’s not like that was the first time that’s happened to me.”

She heard a few gasps and some titters from the audience—perhaps she’d been a little too honest.

“Really?” Johnny pressed. “You’ve had a man walk out on you that way?”

“What can I say?” Bea did her best to put on a brave face, knowing that’s what Lauren wanted. “A lot of men really care whether a woman is thin. For some men, that’s the only thing they care about. As if our entire worth can be measured in the inches of our waistlines.”

Johnny shook his head. “We’ll have to hope the rest of the men aren’t like that.”

Bea nodded, reassuring herself internally that it hardly mattered if they were.

“Okay, Bea, one last question, and I know all of America is waiting for the answer to this one: Of all the men you met tonight, who did you like the best?”

Luc sprang instantly to mind—Bea hadn’t been that attracted to any man since Ray. But she knew that wasn’t the right answer to give in this moment; Luc was too sexy, too volatile, definitely not the choice of a woman earnestly seeking her soulmate. She considered picking Jefferson, but something inside her rebelled against the idea of admitting so publicly what she privately feared: that he was the only man here who might honestly find Bea attractive. She thought back to Lauren’s advice—her job was to sell a fairy tale. It was her duty to find a Prince Charming, handsome and noble and, most important of all, capable of graciously sitting by her side for interviews for the duration of their pretend engagement. If those were the criteria, Bea knew exactly who she’d choose.

“Wyatt,” she said with a confident voice. “The way he comforted me when I was feeling down? If that’s not husband material, I don’t know what is.”

The audience applauded appreciatively, Johnny thanked Bea for her time, and they broke for commercial. Mack came to fit Bea with her giant headphones, a sad smile on his face.

“Sorry about this,” he groused as he got the earphones nice and snug.