Page 5 of Insta Bride

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Page 5 of Insta Bride

A group of single mums hovered together near the buffet, discussing the right time to introduce a lover to their ex or kids. Apparently, exes didn’t have the right to know anything about their love or sex lives. Seriously? I kept walking before anyone invited me to join in. These women had to know their exes—and divorce lawyers—would have front row seats as they hooked-up on television—right?

No one looked like me, dressed like me, or seemed comfortable standing alone, like me.

Dresses were all mid-thigh and tight fitting. Gowns were all satin slips, plunging V at the front, with thigh high splits. Heels were high and uncomfortable. Faces immaculately plucked and transformed into unnaturally perfect complexions and highlighting.

I didn’t belong. Someone had made a mistake. There had to be an Alannah Mercer or Lana Morrison sitting at home, wondering why the show hadn’t called her back.

I knew each show needed its cannon fodder or expendable contestants. Perhaps, the producers wanted to ensure they’d interviewed introverts and extraverts, beauty and plain.

I fit the boring aspects of their diversity model.

I didn’t have half a dozen degrees like cardiologist Leesa, or advertising exec Staci. I wasn’t looking for my third marriage or fourth child like Sami. I wasn’t an international model like Campbell or a former Olympic athlete like Luna. I wasn’t anything special. I was just me.

I’d had one significant relationship in my life. And no, I didn’t know why he’d cheated. Only that he did, it still hurt, and I hadn’t found a reason to trust a man since.

“When will we meet the guys?” Kenzie moaned to the nods of fifty single women.

“Okay, ladies.” Bree James, the production manager called us together. Yes, she’d made a point of acknowledging her initials were BJ suggested we get any and all jokes over with before the cameras started rolling.

I moved towards the back, not expecting anyone to notice. In this world of extraverts, I’d become a white spec blending into the walls.

“I hope you’ve had enough time to get to know the other women and make some new friends. One month being away from your family, friends and job might not seem long, but believe me when I tell you that the women here will become your strength, and your weakness.”

I sighed as women hugged each other in nervous excitement. Did they really think the women in their small clique would have their back? At least no one saw me as competition—either for the show or for a man.

“Let me go over the rules. No sharing last names, social media accounts or contact info. There is a two-drink limit for everyone here today. I’m about to invite the other half of the couples into the room and you’ll have two hours to mingle. Please try and ignore the cameras, and before you ask—yes. The wall behind me is one-way glass. You might as well get used to having your every facial expression and every conversation recorded, monitored, and assessed. There aren’t any plans to air footage from today, but don’t be surprised if we do.”

Clearly the last statement caught some of the women off-guard with many looking to where our bags and makeup had been stowed. My nude lip-gloss still felt fresh and if the producers had wanted a buxom blonde with professional styling, they wouldn’t have kept me in contention.

“Okay, ladies, meet your other halves.”

Despite the warnings, I clung closer to the wall, conscious of seen and unseen cameras. Knowing a team of psychologists, psychiatrists and relationship experts were deciding who looked better together, who had chemistry, and who didn’t.

One by one, the men gravitated around the beautiful and vivacious women. Sami had her suitors circling while Campbell’s claims of being bi-sexual had men eager to find out more.

I nursed my first drink while standing at the far end of the room, near the buffet.

Almost defiantly, I picked my way through the fruit platter while watching the body language and trying to guess who’d be paired with whom. The loudest personalities quickly found each other, before splitting off and continuing to circulate. I noticed Sami and Kenzie gravitate towards good looks and expensive clothes.

No one noticed me. No one made eye contact, came near enough to ask for my name or seemed to like what they saw. I hadn’t been on any man’s radar in years, why would today have been any different? At least I could make up any story to tell my friends and they’d have to believe me.

“You know me,” I could say with a shy laugh, “I glued myself to the nearest wall. I saw all and said nothing.”

Or, I could lie through my teeth and convince them I’d embraced my inner extrovert and became the life of the party. I’d even fake amazement when I didn’t receive an invite to the next round.

“This is your ten-minute warning,” Bree announced to the room. “This could be your last chance to meet the next love of your life, so keep mingling.”

To be fair, men hadn’t approached me, but I hadn’t gone out of my way to meet or mingle. Only one man had intrigued me enough to want to try, but he reminded me of a bee. Going from pretty woman to pretty woman, only stopping long enough to collect their nectar.

Even on my best day I wouldn’t have been in his league or post code.

“Two minutes.”

This had been a waste of time, I sighed, looking towards the door. I’d expected to feel relief. I could go back to my life and ignore the dating world for another three or four years. Except, it would have been nice to talk to someone, share this experience with someone. Belatedly, I wished I had at least tried with some of the women.

“And that’s all we have time for!” Bree called us to attention.

“Thank you very much for your time here today. This concludes your auditioning process. We will let you know within the next couple of weeks if you are going forward.




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