Ineligible Bachelor (8 page)

Freddy scrunched up her nose as though a foul smell just moved by it. “Let’s see, Miss Cotton Gin—two points, America’s Next Top Model—two points, the poet—two points, Buffy…”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah, the preppie from Yale or Harvard or wherever Mummy and Daddy sent her—two points.”

A smiled tugged at his mouth. “Anyone get more than two points?”

“The war veteran. She got an extra point because I’m patriotic. Three points.”

“And Stacy?”

Freddy’s brow furrowed. “You like her or something?”

Logan smiled at the indignant tone of Freddy’s voice. She was jealous after all. “I might.”

He saw something serious run across her face. She looked past him to the back of the room before returning her gaze to him. “She had four points, but I’m taking one point off right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you…”

Roberto clapped his hands together. “Two minutes.” He walked to Logan while scanning his clipboard bible. “Logan,” he looked up just for a moment, “when this segment opens, you will be inside the parlor with the ladies. You’ll have ten minutes to make the rounds, and let us get some shots of you socializing. Then the host will bring in Freddy and drop the bombshell that she is really the one to impress.” He turned to Freddy. “Isn’t that delicious?”

Freddy rolled her eyes. “Divine.”

A production assistant began to lead Logan inside the parlor when he stopped and turned back. “What were you going to say before Roberto interrupted you?” He started to say something else, but the production assistant had already opened the connecting French doors, and the ladies surged toward it, their voices blending in a loud chorus of greeting.

Freddy watched as first one and then another ran to Logan’s side when he stepped into the parlor, each one vying for position and attention. Soon beautiful women surrounded him, each one hanging on his every word. How could she ever compete?

She answered Logan’s question in a whisper, grateful he would not be able to hear her. “Because I can tell you liked Stacy best. I took off a point just because you like her.”

“Smile, we’re on,” the show’s host said as he took her elbow. He led her inside the parlor. “Ladies, if you can tear yourself away from Logan for a moment, I will need your attention.” Glasses clinked as they were set onto trays and everyone’s attention moved to the show host. “This is Freddy,” he continued. The collective intake of breath could have turned the room into a vacuum. “Freddy is playing an important role in the competition, so please listen carefully.”

As the host revealed her part in the show, Freddy felt the weight of the gazes on her—some like daggers, some in shock.

“Now I’ll give you all a few minutes to get acquainted.”

Four of the women gave Freddy a quick sidelong glance before resuming their fixation on Logan. Lori, the war veteran, and Stacy, the teacher, homed right in on her.

Okay, it looks like the two smartest ones have this figured out
, Freddy thought as they approached.
Guess that will make them among the first to go.

“Interesting turn of events,” Stacy said, holding out her hand to Freddy. “I’m Stacy.”

Should I let her know I watched them all come in from the balcony?
Freddy decided against it and took her hand. “Frederika.” She shook Stacy’s hand as warmly as possible, all the while picturing
whipping Stacy into a headlock and body slamming her right into the pricey travertine tile in the entranceway.

“So Freddy is your nickname then?” Lori asked, not to be shut out of an opportunity to win Freddy over.

“Only for the show. I don’t like it that much.”

“Then Frederika it is,” Lori announced. “Why don’t we sit down somewhere quiet and you can get to know me better?” She pointed to a small patio to the right off a set of double French doors.

Not to be outdone, Stacy concurred. “Know
us
better, you mean. We can all get more comfortable with this new twist.” She stepped between Stacy and Freddy. “I do like Frederika better. It sounds more elegant and regal.” She smiled. “It suits you.”

Gawd
, Freddy thought.
She can’t possibly think I am going to fall for that.

Lori glanced over her shoulder. “But since the rest of the ladies haven’t figured out that they should actually be putting their time to good use by getting to know the person who will be eliminating them, how about we don’t tell them about it for a while?”

Freddy looked at the four remaining women circling Logan now like sharks about to partake in a feeding frenzy. “Why not,” she agreed before looking at Stacy and Lori.
Trying to make alliances already, are you?
They were definitely going to be the first two with their butts in the backseat of limos heading back out the driveway. And as soon as possible.

What she didn’t need were two beautiful
and
intelligent women in the mix. Suddenly, a pageant-waving beauty queen, a limerick-creating poet, a runway wannabe, and a New England preppie didn’t seem too bad at all.

“I think that went rather well,” Freddy said, entering Logan’s room later that evening.

He came out of his dressing room wearing jeans and his tuxedo shirt, unbuttoned, both humor and questions in his eyes. “It depends on what you mean by ‘went well.’”

“You looked like you enjoyed the attention,” she said, pulling back hard on the reins of the female hormones raging inside her when she looked at him. Her fingertips itched to trace the six-pack abs peeking from beneath the crisp white fabric to find out if they were as rock hard as they looked. “Were you?”

“It wasn’t half-bad.” He lifted his carved-from-stone shoulders and shrugged off the shirt. “Hang on a second,” he said before ducking back inside the dressing room.

Freddy grabbed on to the back of one of the overstuffed chairs to keep from running after him just to watch him put on a T-shirt.

“So what’s next?” she heard him call out from the other room.

What’s next? How was she supposed to answer that? She’d spent the better part of the last hour dodging elbows and trying to stay close to Logan as six women jockeyed for position next to him. Watching them shamelessly and openly flirt with him only underscored the fact that her great plan to impress him had taken a really wrong turn. The ladies would probably be wiping drool from their chins all night now that they had seen him, and she could do nothing more about it than hand them a tissue. She looked to the window, half-expecting to see one of the bachelorettes climbing on a ladder.

Logan came back into the room in a plain white T-shirt, looking more like the Logan she knew and less like a model on the cover of
GQ
. She leaned her rear against the desk in his room, slippers peeking out from beneath the silvery fabric of her gown. “Seems like I have a lot on the agenda. I have to go over the list of upcoming challenges and get my comments to Annie by Thursday. Two days. I hope you don’t get too bored hanging around here
with nothing to do but look at women in bikinis walk back and forth between the pool and the hot tub.”

“I’m sure I can adjust.”

She snickered. “You do that.”

“What else can I do? You got me into this.”

“Want out?” Her hopes soared.

“I think it’s too late for that,” he replied, dashing those hopes. “But I have to admit, as exciting this may all seems to the viewers, it’s all beginning to run together in my head.”

Suddenly, the evening sounded more interesting. “It is?” Freddy shifted her rear on the desk. “You don’t like all the attention?”

“I do. I mean, what guy wouldn’t want six beautiful handpicked women fawning all over him?”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

He nodded. “But it doesn’t feel real.” He tossed his head toward the desk. “We have a script. How can anything be real if it is scripted?” Dismay darkened his eyes. “What if I make the wrong choice?”

“You won’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because making the choice is my job.”

He smiled. “That’s right. It is.” His eyes narrowed. “You won’t let me down, will you?”

He turned his smile up a notch, and it seared into Freddy’s heart as if it had touched the infrared grate on an outdoor grill. As she looked at the curve of his lips, all she could think about was someone else kissing him, someone to whom she would have to give the “go for it” seal of approval in six weeks. She wondered if she could actually do it.

“The producers tell me I have to give them a good show or risk being in default of the contract,” she managed to say once she tore her gaze from his mouth.

“I just hope you have some sort of internal radar inside that head of yours to weed out the star-seekers from the genuine article.”

Freddy suddenly found it hard to breathe. “You are actually looking for a girlfriend?”

Logan shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Stunned, Freddy could only stare openmouthed at him.

“I am stuck here, so maybe I should try to make the best of things. I mean, I would never have met women like this if it hadn’t been for you entering my picture in the contest. I tend to stick to the same type of girl.”

“And what type would that be?” she asked in a small voice.

He tilted his head and shook his finger at her. “Oh, no you don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You don’t actually think I’m going to spell it out for you.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I do, you won’t have as much work to do over the next few weeks. I think I would like to be entertained as long as I have to be here, and watching you figure out who stays and who goes could turn out to be a lot of fun.”

“Fun? It was like auction day at Christie’s, and you were up for bidding like a piece of art or something.”

Logan flexed his bicep. “I am fine.” He couldn’t stop the laughter. “But seriously. We’ve known each other a long time. You know me, know what I like.”

She
so
did not want to go down this road with him because that particular road did not lead to her.

“Besides,” he continued, “if I tell you, what will you do with the points? Your scoring system would get out of whack.”

“Not to me.”

He took a step toward her and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear with his forefinger. “Tell you what. Forget the points, and just do what feels right,” he said with a wry smile.

What felt right to her would be running for the hills with Logan in tow. There had to be a way out of this. She just needed time to find it. “As long as you let me do what I’m supposed to do and not fight me on any decision, I promise you that when I’m done, you’ll be happy.”

“Sounds like you’re already on track.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not. I’m making this up as I go along. It would be a heck of a lot easier if I did have a Goth girl or the stereotypical biker chick here, but I don’t, so it makes my job a lot harder.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’d pick one of those for me?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Ratings,” she said before walking to the door where she stopped and turned back to face him. “Don’t stay up too late. Tomorrow is the first group date, and you’re going to need all the rest you can get.”

“Where are we going?” Logan asked, getting into the waiting limo and finding Freddy already there.

“It’s a surprise.”

The car took off. “Where are my dates?”

“Probably already at the site.”

“Site of what?”

“Your group date.”

The quirk on her lips gave her away. He wasn’t getting any information until they got to wherever they were going. He reached into the small fridge and pulled out a bottled water. “What’s up with all the secrecy? Why won’t you tell me what’s planned?” He took a long swig, waiting for her answer.

“Hand me one,” Freddy asked, reaching out.

Logan grabbed her wrist. “Not until you tell me what’s going on. The note that came with the breakfast tray this morning just said dress for sports. Are we playing football?”

“Not this time, but it is a thought.”

He let her wrist go and got the water she wanted. “If you want me to teach six beautiful women how to tackle, I’m in.”

“I think I can handle that, remember? But not today.”