Page 39 of Pity Pact

“An hour?” I’m suddenly grateful I work here. It looks like this show might be a bunch of hurry up and wait. And that’s never been my strong suit.

Chip groans, “I’m starting to wonder what I’m doing here.”Welcome to the club.

But I don’t say that. Instead, I smile in what I hope is an encouraging manner before saying, “I’ll catch up with you later, Chip. I’ve got some work I need to do.” On my way out the door, I walk past Fielden and make sure to send him a death glare. There is no way I’m going to let this ignoramus anywhere near Paige. The whole idea makes me sick.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PAIGE

I don’t have the opportunity to meet any of the other women before it’s time to start filming our individual interviews. Once we leave the ballroom, Trina lines us up in a specific order. I’m the first one to go in.

Technicians walk around and busily hook up our microphones. They tuck the battery packs inside the back of our clothing, which means I have to unzip my dress for it to be secured to my bra. The tricky part is weaving the wire through my dress so the tiny mic is close to my mouth. After much finagling—which either makes me look like there’s a herd of spiders crawling around under my dress, or I’m trying to perform a belly dance with a dislocated hip—I’m finally ready to go.

Trina declares, “I’ll walk into the ballroom first. Wait for me to announce you before you come in, and then when we’re done, exit through the same door where the men are.”

I lean against the wall to keep from falling over. “Okay.” I’m so terrified right now I’m not sure I’m going to be able to take one step, let alone walk across the ballroom. I envision myself getting halfway there before falling into a heap on the floor.

As I watch Trina get into position, I decide it’s a good thing I don’t have a job that involves being in front of a camera. I’m pretty sure if I did, I’d spend most of my time on the unemployment line.

Before I know it, a crew member signals that it’s go time.Holy heck, this is it. Trina is standing a good twenty yards from me, when she tells the camera, “Our first single lives right here in Elk Lake. She’s a seventh-grade math teacher, and her name is Paige Holland. Come on in, Paige!”

There are so many lights and people around, I feel like I’m walking onto a movie set. Somehow, I manage to put a smile on my face, even though it’s so frozen into place I probably look like a serial killer.

As soon as I get to Trina’s side, she puts her hand on my arm. “We’re so happy to have you on the show.”

“Thank you.” I stumble over my words as I tell her, “I … I’m happy to be here.”

“So, you’re thirty-two and looking for love! That’s exciting, huh?”

“I guess so.” I laugh lightly like it’s fun to get called out on national television for being unable to find someone on my own.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. In the next several weeks you’re going to get to know eight great guys. I’m optimistic one of them will be the perfect match for you.”

“That’s why I’m here.”To throw myself at the feet of strangers and beg them to love me.

“I understand you enjoy rom-com movies,” she says.

“I could watch them all day.”

She wants to know, “Which one is your favorite?”

My mind suddenly goes blank, and I can’t remember anything. I finally manage, “I love anything with Julia Roberts or Sandra Bullock.”

“Oh, so you’re into theoldies.” She says that like she’s accusing me of something unsavory. Oh, so you’re the one who likes liver and onions.

I wish I were sitting down, but as that isn’t an option, I slide my feet farther apart to help balance my center of gravity. “My mom got me hooked on them.”

“Well, hopefully, your leading man is right on the other side of that door.” She faces the camera again. “Our next single comes to us from the Windy City itself, please welcome …” Keeping her hands beneath the camera’s focus, she motions for me to move on.

As I hurry across the room, I can’t help but think fifteen hundred dollars an episode is nowhere near enough to compensate me for the kind of anxiety I’m experiencing. It’s like being in high school all over again, albeit sans the brace.

Once I walk through the door on the opposite side of the room, I’m surrounded by men. My eyes immediately scan for Tim, but he’s nowhere in sight. That’s when Chip approaches me. As though reading my mind, he says, “Tim said something about going to the dining room.”

“Thank you.” My tone is clipped at best.

“Paige,” he starts to say, but quickly stops.

“What?”