One To Watch(68)

“Hey.” She walked over to him, noting how wonderfully normal he looked in his faded jeans and woolen sweater: a dad from Vermont. She wanted to hug him, to rest her head on his shoulder and snuggle into his arms—but something about his manner stopped her, made her ill at ease.

“Seems like you’ve had a good week,” he said, an edge in his voice.

“Yes, this country is amazing. I really love it here.” Bea was so confused—the last time she saw him, they’d been confessing their feelings and kissing passionately. What had changed?

“Okay!” Rahim’s voice broke in. “Riding a camel can be tricky. They spit, all four of their legs can kick in all four directions, and they’re frankly not thrilled that you’re here. So I need you all to be careful when you mount them. They’ll sink down to the ground, and you need to lean back as they rise up. If you lean forward, there’s a not-insignificant chance they throw you over their heads, and we have a lot of cameras here, so even if you don’t get injured, your mortification will live forever on YouTube. Okay?”

Bea, Asher, and Jefferson all nodded with trepidation. Bea was starting to think maybe belly dancing wouldn’t be the most frightening date option in Morocco after all.

“Great!” Rahim clapped his hands. “Let’s get this party started.”

The camels were putrid and surly, and Bea said a silent prayer as hers rose to its feet that she wasn’t about to be pitched headfirst onto a rocky path. But once the camel stood up and they got going, she was bowled over by the majesty of the experience. The camels were markedly taller than horses, and while riding them wasn’t exactly comfortable, their lilting gaits did have something of a hypnotic quality.

For half an hour they rode higher into the mountains, until they reached a plateau where the producers had arranged a beautiful picnic. Thirty minutes on a camel didn’t seem like long, but by the end of the ride, she was more than ready to take a break—thick Moroccan bread with savory roasted lamb was just the ticket.

“What, no camel meat?” Bea joked with Rahim.

“Shhh, they’ll hear you!” Rahim looked meaningfully at their camels. “We can’t let them know how lean and nutritious they are.”

“I think you should consider being the spokesperson for the camel-meat industry.”

“Why do you think I agreed to do a camel tour on reality TV? I’ve got ambitions, baby.”

After lunch, the producers had blocked out discrete mini-dates for Jefferson and Asher to give each of them time to talk alone with Bea. First, Bea took a short walk with Jefferson to a magnificent vista that overlooked the entire city of Marrakesh below, the high walls and turrets and palm trees and twisting alleyways gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

“This is so beautiful,” Bea said, feeling grateful to be in this extraordinary place. It reminded her of a road trip with Ray up to Malibu almost ten years ago, a Saturday treat after a terrible week at the agency. The convertible top down, the wind in their hair, walking together over jagged cliffs as they laughed and talked for hours, admiring gorgeous views like this one. Bea realized that she’d barely thought of Ray all week—was it just the ocean between them that made him feel so far away? Or had making room for the possibility of these other men left a little less space for his memory?

“Whatcha thinking about?” Jefferson gave Bea a little nudge, easing her back into the present moment. She looked up at him, cast in golden light and the handsomest she’d seen him.

“Just thinking how profound my time here has felt, even though it’s only been five weeks.” Bea laughed with a moment of self-awareness. “Wow, I sound like everyone who’s ever starred on this show, don’t I?”

“It’s a good thing, though. I feel the same way.” Jefferson sighed and leaned against the stone wall that framed the vista. “I’ve been saying for years that I’m ready to get married, feeling frustrated that I can’t find a woman to be my wife. But being here with you, I’m starting to wonder, was I really ready before? Because this feels … so different.”

“Really?” Bea didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but she and Jefferson had really only shared two conversations—nice ones to be sure, but there was certainly nothing life-altering about them.

Jefferson laughed. “I know, I probably sound insane to you—believe me, it sounds even crazier to me. And maybe I’m just getting swept away with this show, with all the amazing things we’ve gotten to do. But I don’t know, Bea. Watching everything that’s been thrown at you for the past month, how gracefully you’ve handled it all, how you’ve been vulnerable but kept your sense of humor—yeah. It’s been really special. It’s taught me more about the kind of person I want to be.”

“Wow,” Bea said quietly, not really knowing how to react to this. “I really wish you and I would have had more time together before now.”

“It’s not too late, is it?” He reached for her hand—she noticed his was a little clammy. Was he nervous about this conversation? If so, it was incredibly endearing.

“It’s funny,” she said, “the way you describe yourself in Kansas City, with dating, I mean—that’s pretty similar to how I’ve been for the last few years.”

“Seriously?” Jefferson looked skeptical.