The Dating Game

The doors opened again and in walked a man. Okay, not a man. A demigod. At least six feet tall, he had the dark good looks and deep-blue eyes that made grown women trip over themselves in order to get a better look. Sort of a Pierce Brosnan type, only younger.

Mattie figured she could take him. No problem.

A guy like that wouldn’t last long in the woods. He’d be too worried about what gathering a few sticks of kindling would do to his manicure. Good. One competitor she didn’t have to worry about.

“Am I in the right place?” He paused, adjusting his maroon tie.

What kind of guy wore a suit on a survival show? Well, there had been that lawyer on the other network’s show two or three seasons ago. Maybe this guy had some crazy ideas about using his navy Brooks Brothers suit for a makeshift sleeping bag.

“Depends on where you’re supposed to be,” she said.

“Touché.” He smiled. “I’m sorry. I probably should have started by introducing myself. I’m David Simpson.” He took a step toward her, putting out a hand. “And you are?”

Mattie rose and shook with him, grinning. “Your worst nightmare.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry. I’m Mattie Grant.” She broadened her smile. “And I don’t intend to lose this game.”

He grinned. “And neither do I.”

She gave his three-piece suit and polished shoes another glance. “I don’t think you’re quite cut out for this competition.”

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you.” He gave her the once-over, his gaze lingering on her shorts and flip-flops. “Aren’t you a little…underdressed?”

“I’m not here for a beauty pageant. Who cares what I look like?”

He chuckled. “I like you, Mattie Grant. You aren’t what I expected. This is going to be one interesting show,” he said. “Very interesting.”

He had a way of looking at her that was both direct and intent. Like he was sizing her up. Well, two could play that game. She circled the room in an idle pattern. “Why do you think they’re doing a show like this in Lawford, of all places?” Mattie asked. “I’m not complaining, and Lawford is a good-size city, but this is usually the kind of thing the big networks do.”

“Well, reality TV is low budget, big viewership. To the head honchos at Channel Ten, this was a no-brainer. The new station owner is hoping to make a big splash in this marketplace. Lawford Channel Ten isn’t exactly the shining gem in the Media Star conglomerate.”

Mattie cocked her head and studied him. “How do you know all this?” She didn’t remember reading much more than a press release announcing the new station ownership in the Lawford Sun. Apparently David Simpson knew something she didn’t know.

He had an edge. And Mattie didn’t like that at all.

“I, ah, heard about it at work.” David turned away and moved across the room to study a spring landscape hanging on the wall.

“Do you work in TV?” She tried to keep her tone casual, friendly. This not being a girly-girl thing made it tough, though. Even to her own ears she sounded like an FBI interrogator.

“No.”

He didn’t elaborate. She shouldn’t fault him for that. They were, after all, competitors. Personal knowledge could be used to someone else’s advantage. She wasn’t about to share anything, either. No one here needed to know who Mattie Grant really was or why she was on this show.

However, that didn’t mean Mattie couldn’t find a way to soften her approach. How she’d do that, she had no idea. Her best interactions with men came when she battled them for a black-and-white ball on a hundred-yard field. This small talk in the parlor thing left her feeling like a cow trying to perform “Swan Lake”.

Behind them another door opened and a woman in an evening gown—most likely Dior, said another part of Mattie that used to live a life where those kinds of names mattered—slipped into the room, her movements lithe and graceful. Her auburn hair was perfectly coiffed, her nails impeccably done, her presentation flawless.

What was with these people? Didn’t they realize this was an outdoor adventure show? She’d never seen a survival show where everyone came dressed for the Oscars.

Either the producers for the Lawford television station had zero idea what a show like this comprised or…

For the first time that day, Mattie began to feel a little worried. Had she stumbled into the wrong place somehow? Had there been a mistake?

“Oh! I see you two have already met,” the woman said, glancing at Mattie, then at David. “The butler was supposed to bring you to the dining room with the other men, but I suppose this one mistake won’t mess things up too badly.”

“Are you the owner of the house?” Mattie asked. Why wasn’t she supposed to meet David? And what was up with this “other men” thing?

“Oh no! I’m Larissa Peterson, the host of the show.” She put out her hand to Mattie and then to David. “The owners are in the Caribbean and graciously allowed us to use their home for the show.” She looked around the room, empty except for the three of them. “I’d thought maybe someone had been in here already to explain everything to you.”

“Wait a minute. You said you’re the…host?” Mattie took another look at Larissa’s designer dress and high heels. “Of Survival of the Fittest?”

“God, no!” Larissa laughed. “I couldn’t survive five minutes outside of civilization. I’m the host of Love and the Average Jill.”

“Love and the Average Jill? But…but—” Mattie’s gaze zipped around the room again. The pieces fell into horrifying place, one at a time.

The letter that hadn’t named any specific show.

The fancy mansion.

The butler who’d been surprised at her sporty attire.

The man dressed in a suit. One of the…

Oh, God. Bachelors. Plural.

That meant she was supposed to be the…

“I think I’m in the wrong place,” Mattie said, letting out a nervous little laugh. She choked back the nausea rising in her throat. No, no, no. This was not for her. She had to leave. Now.

Mattie pivoted away and yanked her backpack out from under the love seat. It caught on the bottom of the cushions before giving way, causing her to stumble a couple of feet.

David put a hand against her back, saving her from crashing to the floor. For a second she felt as if he’d zapped her with a stun gun. “Steady there. Don’t want to hurt yourself before we’ve even begun.”

She jerked away from his touch. This was wrong. So wrong. “I’m supposed to be on Survival of the Fittest.” Maybe if she said it enough, it would come true, but the sinking feeling in her chest told her something else.

Larissa laughed. “I don’t think so. Do you have your letter?”

Mattie nodded. “Yeah.” She dug in her back pocket, fished it out and handed it to Larissa. Find the mistake, please, Mattie prayed.

Larissa scanned the single sheet of paper, then looked at Mattie, considering her for a long, long moment. “You’re Matilda Grant?”

“Yes, I am.” Lord how she hated her given name. Made her sound like a character from Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, not a woman trying to be taken seriously in a rough-and-tumble sport.

“You’re not…” Larissa paused, put a finger on her chin, then her lips turned up into a smile that Mattie swore looked crafty. “Why, you’re the perfect average Jill.” Larissa put out her arms, as if she expected Mattie to step into the hug. “Welcome to the show, and to your heart’s destiny.”

At those words everything within Mattie rebelled. She put a hand to her stomach and dashed from the room before Lawford’s newest bachelorette made an unforgettable impression on the Oriental rug.