Love 'Em or Leave 'Em Read online

Page 8


  He began calling names one by one. Kate. Cricket. Tami. Rachel. While the ecstatic four huddled to the side in quiet euphoria, Luke paused to look over the remaining six. Two would stay; four would go. Shelby was poised in her beach wrap, looking her gorgeous beauty queen self. Natural Meg stood calmly, surrounded with positive energy to guide his decision. Jenny the snuggler gazed cozily up at him as she batted her baby blues. Gwen trembled, eyes wide. Next to Ashley stood Liz, tall and beautiful. Ashley waited. Luke knew she didn't want him. He knew she didn't like him-at least, not very much. She held her breath.

  Looking over the remaining six, Luke picked up another rose. "Ashley."

  Her breath came out in a huge sigh. So that was it. She was in again. What was his problem? She stepped forward and accepted the rose.

  "Thank you," she said, trying not to glare at him.

  As she began to step away, he stopped her. "Wait" He reached up to her forehead to wipe something off. "You have Cheeto marks on your forehead. Orange isn't your color." A dimple appeared on his cheek.

  "Great. Thanks" She was beyond embarrassed. This whole morning was a hideous experience.

  Then Clay stepped up next to Luke. With all the seriousness he could muster, as though it were brain surgery or at least the final round of the Masters, he said, "And now for the last rose." Moron.

  Luke gave the remaining women one last look and pushed his hand through his hair, giving it a disheveled look. He took a deep breath. "Jenny"

  Ashley and Rachel quickly turned to Liz, who was in the reject group. Their overcrowded bedroom would feel empty without her. Liz looked disappointed, but not shattered. She gave them a reluctant wave goodbye and blew them a kiss after mouthing "Good luck! And call me!" Then she said her good-bye to Luke.

  Gwen, on the other hand, was a mess. She did the ugly gulping-for-breath cry. Her normally porcelain face was red and splotchy with emotion. Luke hugged her as she sobbed, rubbing her back to calm her down. His shirt was all wet when she finally released him. Fortunately, there was no makeup to smear.

  After Liz and the others left, the celebration party felt strange. Ashley was subdued as she tried to digest the events happening around her. The game was getting out-of-hand and she didn't know how to stop it. Why did Luke keep her here? This was the third rose ceremony, and they'd only shared one group date together. Granted, it included a stolen kiss that lifted her so high she could have flown off the chairlift. But it didn't mean anything. Heck, Liz had so much more going for her than Ashley did. Why did life make what you wanted so hard to get, while what you didn't want literally banged down your door? She had all but told him off. Okay, maybe she actually had told him off. She didn't want to waste any more time on this stupid show.

  What was she going to do? She had no idea how to take charge of this out-of-control situation and make it work for her. She was stranded for at least another three days or so. Crud.

  As Ashley carried empty glasses from their impromptu celebration into the kitchen, Rachel came up behind her.

  "What are you doing?"

  Having no idea what she was talking about, Ashley replied, "Clearing glasses out of the great room?"

  Eyes narrowed, Rachel snarled, "That's not what I meant, and you know it. What's your game?" She stood, hands on hips. "You've been saying all along that he's not your type and you don't care that much about the show, and yet you keep manipulating your way through each stage"

  Ashley moved to the sink and set down the glasses. Whoa, where's this coming from? She turned around and leaned against the sink.

  "This was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it?" Rachel accused. "Everybody's got their game plan and yours was to play hard-to-get" She paced back and forth in front of Ashley, then stopped and pointed a finger in her face.

  Ashley braced herself against the counter. She needed some leverage as she heard Rachel's accusations.

  "You played Liz and me for a couple of fools. You walked in the door with a big story about tripping on the sidewalk and how embarrassed you were. Bull! You fell down in front of him so he'd have to notice you" She started pacing again. "You wanted to chum up to us so you could sail through more easily."

  Ashley stepped away from the counter and reached out to Rachel. "I haven't done anything. He picked me. I didn't pick him."

  "This is the first time I've ever been in love and you're trying to ruin it."

  "Oh, Rach, don't say that" Ashley stepped forward. "You don't even know him. It's been less than two weeks. You think you're in love, but this is all artificial. It's not real."

  Pulling away, Rachel argued back, "Yes, it is." Pain etched her face.

  "Honey, I don't want to see you get hurt"

  "I thought you were my friend, but you used me from the moment we met."

  "No, I didn't."

  Rachel took another step back. "Yes, you did, but it's over. He's not going to fall for you. What I feel is real, and nothing you do can change it. I feel it, and I know he does too"

  Rachel turned and left the room, and Ashley stood dumbfounded and alone. Alone except for the cameraman lurking in the corner, filming the whole exchange. She hung her head in frustration.

  Life just turned from bad to worse. She didn't know what to do or how to make it better. She hoped that Rachel would calm down and that they'd be able to talk it through later. Ashley left the kitchen and the despised camera behind. She moved through the great room and up to her bedroom. Tami leaned against the doorway with an evil gleam in her eyes. She had obviously overheard and was gloating at the discord between the two roommates.

  When she reached their bedroom, Ashley saw the empty closet and the cleaned-off dressers. Rachel had packed up her belongings and moved in with one of the others. Ashley sat on her narrow bed and felt as desolate as the room looked. What had once been an overcrowded room filled with clothing and laughter was now just a vacant space with a lonely, hollow feeling.

  She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, too deflated to get cleaned up. The only good thing about the whole, sordid experience had been her friendships with Liz and Rachel, and now they were both gone.

  How many times in life would she find herself misunderstood, alone, and miserable? Obviously too many.

  She knew that she should quit the pity party, but the idea of jumping back into the thick of things with no emotional support felt all but impossible.

  She needed to get off this horrible show.

  Luke stood under the hot shower, steam filling the room, the walls pressing in around him. The hot water beat against his back, pounding in the memories of the morning. He couldn't stop thinking about the heartbroken looks on the faces of the women he'd sent home. It hurt.

  The foggy air was suffocating. Why is this bugging me? I don't care about them. I've dumped women before. Maybe because it's on TV and the world will see it?

  He leaned his arms against the glossy wall before him, resting his head against the cool marble as the stream of guilt continued to roll over him. Have I always hurt women this much? Is this my legacy? Why haven't I ever committed before?

  This was supposed to be fun. It was crazy and chaotic, and the women were beautiful and entertaining. But here he was dumping someone every couple of days. The similarities to his life were only too clear. Why was he always dumping women?

  This game was hitting a little too close to home, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to keep playing it, much less to win it.

  "M ail call."

  Ashley looked up from her comfortable chair on the back patio where she could see the turquoise colors of the ocean. She sat, legs curled beneath her, and read another of her trashy novels, this one with a barechested Viking on the cover. The catalpa tree threw off dappled shade and her ever-present can of diet cola sat on the table.

  "Ashley, where are you?"

  Jenny's squeals of excitement filtered back from the front of the mansion-date mail had arrived again.

  "I'm coming." She uncurled herself
from the chair. Time to join the chaos inside.

  "Hurry up, Jenny's ripping the envelope open."

  "Don't get your undies in a bundle, I'm on my way."

  Ashley left the quiet peace of the patio to join the growing group in the great room. There was always excitement when date mail arrived. An unspoken competition existed among the ladies to be the one to find it and share the good fortune with the lucky date recipients. While Ashley couldn't care less about finding the mail, she was curious to know about the next big date and who it included.

  With only six bachelorettes left, the stakes were high. Her strategy to play it quiet in order to get voted off had obviously failed. But as much as she needed to job hunt, she admitted she enjoyed the downtime. She read constantly, blasting through her books, sleeping late, and getting a little color while hanging out in the Southern California sun. And her being included in so few activities had kept the camera crews away from her most of the time. All in all, things had gone pretty well, which meant she was due for another date soon.

  Jenny proudly waved the card in the air with a squeal. "It's a group golf date! And three get to go!"

  "Who's going?" Tami demanded, her voice snippy. She took the card from Jenny. "Let me read it." She stood back to formally reveal the contents of the card.

  A smug expression came over Tami's face, as if she'd known all along that she'd be picked. Her air of confidence and haughtiness always fascinated everyone. Rachel looked crushed. She turned her sullen face away from them and left the room.

  Kate, however, seemed genuinely happy for Cricket, as was Ashley. Cricket was a pretty, quiet girl who always came off as a little shy but very sweet. Ashley liked what little she knew of her. She seemed smart and well-grounded underneath her model-like body and short, sassy hair.

  There were high fives and hoots of congratulations for the date winners. Ashley was pleased to have another opportunity to get out of the mansion, even if it meant going on a date. Another group date! Plus, she was curious to see how things went between her and Luke.

  But golf? Ashley had played golf a couple of times with friends years ago, and once with one of her boyfriends, but she had no true interest in the game and had never developed any skill. More times than not, she'd whiff the ball when she swung. Was whiff a golf term, or had she made it up? She would wind up, concentrate, aim at the ball and whiff right over the top. So humiliating. She'd look like she was going to nail the ball and then, poof! All that action for nothing. Ugh.

  Her best experiences had been when she'd golfed with girlfriends. When they hit a bad ball, they would hit another one, or pick it up and throw it closer to the hole. Ashley hoped tomorrow would be similar.

  The limo picked them up promptly at seven the next morning. Luke was ready and waiting at the course.

  "Wow, does he look hot!" Tami said, with a hungry look.

  Ashley couldn't argue. He stood at the front of the clubhouse dressed in tan shorts and a brilliant white golf shirt with a Whistling Straits logo. The fine fabric of the shirt rippled over his muscular shoulders. His arms, legs, and face were tanned. Obviously Luke spent a lot of time outdoors. He stood taller with his golf shoes on, looking casual and comfortable. He was in his element.

  Luke helped them out of the limo and greeted each of them warmly with a kiss on the cheek. Not a bad way to start the morning. Ashley put a hand to her cheek as she stepped away. They were ushered into the pro shop and fitted with clubs and shoes. Each of them wore their own version of appropriate golf attire. Ashley wore tan Dockers shorts and a black sleeveless top with a collar. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a simple black visor.

  Tami was an entirely different story. She wore fitted white micro shorts which showed off her gorgeous long legs. Of course ... she was all legs. Her top was a hot pink stretchy tank top that molded to her everywhere. The low V-neck nicely displayed her generous assets. She wore her thick, dark hair down, sported a classy pair of designer sunglasses, and had a smile that shimmered with rose-colored gloss on her full lips. She looked like a million bucks. She also looked like she belonged on a photo shoot, not a golf course. Luke's gaze, as well as those of the cameramen and country club staff, roved over Tami at every opportunity.

  Cricket, on the other hand, looked like she'd walked off the cover of some preppy golf magazine. She moved confidently around the pro shop wearing black pleated shorts with a classy peach sleeveless golf shirt and a cute little coordinating visor. As she turned an educated eye to select a putter, a golf glove hung out of her back pocket.

  Cricket was a golfer.

  Ashley felt the pit in her stomach grow.

  Outside, two golf carts sat ready. One held a large black golf bag strapped on the back. Tami edged in next to Luke. "I hope you don't mind if I ride in your cart. I could use a few pointers."

  Ashley could have pointed out a few things to her, but didn't waste her breath.

  After hitting a couple of practice balls at the golf range, Ashley didn't feel any better. Luckily she'd hit most of the balls off the tees, but none had gone very far. She hopped in the cart next to Cricket and tried to drum up some courage.

  Cricket looked over at her. "You don't golf much, do you?"

  "That obvious?"

  "Let me just say you could use a few tips."

  "I need a lot more than tips. How about a body double who golfs? That would be helpful."

  "Oh, don't worry. You'll be fine," Cricket assured her. "I don't want to offer help where it's not wanted, but I think if you correct just a few things you'll be able to hit the ball better."

  "Really?" Ashley asked skeptically. "You think you could do something to improve my dismal skills?" She looked at the huge course laid out before her. "I am so bad at this game. Why couldn't I have gone to a baseball game, or to the zoo or something?"

  Cricket smiled in sympathy. "Don't worry. After we tee off, I'll stick by you and we'll see what we can do to get your ball in the air."

  "Thank you. Anything you could do to help would be appreciated. I'll pay you back somehow. I'll even rub your feet. You get me through this horror of cameras filming every embarrassing swing and I'll be your new best friend."

  "No problem. I'm glad to help, and you don't need to rub my feet," she said and laughed.

  They arrived at the first tee. Luke stepped up to take his first shot. After sinking the tee deep into the dense grass, he stood back and took a couple of practice swings. Luke moved with such fluidity. His eyes fo cused somewhere down the fairway as he stepped up to his ball, his stance totally relaxed as he wound up and swung. Luke hit the ball with such precision and force that it flew high into the air and seemed to glide forever before popping down not far from the green.

  Amazing. Ashley had never seen a golf ball hit so beautifully or so far before. Not that she'd had much opportunity. The ex-boyfriends she'd golfed with were not very good. In fact, next to Luke, they were total losers.

  Luke invited the ladies to hit. Tami sauntered right up and bent down with her tight little butt in the air and placed her ball on a tee.

  What a sleaze.

  When she hit the ball, there was a nice little loft to it that Ashley would have died for. But then, she'd love to have a figure like Tami's too.

  Cricket stepped up and tried a couple of practice swings. When she hit the ball it was grace in motion. Ashley heard a nice little "ping" as her club hit the ball and it soared high into the air and straight down the fairway. Beautiful.

  "Your turn," Luke prodded Ashley when she didn't move to the tee box.

  "Oh yeah, right." She tried to approach the tee box with confidence and set her ball and tee in the grass, and sighed. She searched for some real courage, but the damned camera was focused on her-waiting.

  Suddenly turning to the others, she leaned on her club. "Listen you guys, I am so not a golfer. I mean, I'm not even good at minigolf."

  "Not a problem," Luke reassured her. "We're just here to have fun. No pressu
re." He offered her a warm smile.

  Fun. Just here to have fun.

  She focused on the ball and took a deep breath in an attempt to relax.

  Yup, just have fun.

  She took another deep breath.

  Okay, now you're stalling. Just hit the dumb ball.

  She wound up and swung, trying to keep her eye on the ball and not the group gathered to watch her tee off. Her club came around, and by some miracle hit the ball. Her euphoria was short-lived as the ball took a forty-five degree turn to the right. At least it went a somewhat respectable distance.

  Ashley picked up her tee and walked over to the group. She glanced at Luke. "Yeah, that was really fun" A smile curled at the edge of his mouth.

  Back in the golf cart, Ashley and Cricket were able to go the opposite direction of Luke and Tami.

  "Okay, just shoot me now. Put me out of my misery"

  "Oh come on, you were fine. Don't be so hard on yourself."

  "Easy for you to say. You golf like the club is an extension of your arm. What's with that? Where did you learn to golf?"

  Hesitating, Cricket replied, "Well, I grew up a coun try club kid. We spent our summers at the club swimming, golfing, and playing tennis."

  Perfect, how could she not have guessed? Cricket, always impeccably dressed and displaying perfect manners. The girl was bred to play good golf. Unlike Ashley, who was born to embarrass herself. If there was one thing Ashley had, it was humility. Lots of it. How could you not when you screwed up as much as she did?

  Approaching the next ball, Ashley said, "Okay, Country Club, I beg you, help me survive this miserable day" They smiled at each other and walked up to her ball where Ashley received her first lesson. Cricket walked her through every shot. She taught her how to properly hold the club and where her feet should be planted.