Never Have I Ever

Chapter 1: Cherry

"Mr. and Mrs. Pright? We're ready for you."

I perked up at the sound of our names and scurried forward, nearly snapping the right heel off of my brand new white Mary Jane heels that I bought a week before. Before I could tumble forward, my godsend-of-a-husband caught me by the elbow as I steadied myself. I sent an apologetic smile towards the young producer with a headset speaking into the microphone protruding from ear. I smoothed out the skirt of my cherry-printed, pleated dress.

I shuffled forward with the same indelicate, tremulous steps as Bambi learning how to walk for the first time. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other on my sharp stiletto heels, the very heels that would likely shish-kabob any of my own toes if I wasn't careful. My husband, still holding my elbow to keep me stiffly upright, and I sauntered towards the two chairs stationed in front of the cameras and an entire structure of lights and microphones one could find in any movie studio, but were now erected in front of a decadent mansion where we would be staying for the next few weeks. As if the limo ride from the hotel wasn't magnanimous enough, now I felt like they were really pulling out all of the stops and the red carpet to boot.

And that was when I nearly slipped and 'flipped ass over a teakettle' on a puddle on the already slick cobblestone. Nolan caught me before I could manage to snap my neck on live television for the whole world to see.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed in exasperation as I fought to still my fluttering heart. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears and I shuddered to think of what would have happened if Nolan wasn't there right beside me.

Come to think of it, he had been quite attached at the hip recently to me, as if there was this invisible rope tethering us together. But who had tied this initial knot, binding us together?

Now that I had miraculously remained upright, it was as if I was practically ice-skating across. I was beginning to think these producers were out to make me slip and snap myself in half on purpose. What was a reality TV show without a little blood after all?

This is all a little too unnecessary for a cheap parlor trick to make everything seem even more heavenly.

The slick cobblestone that wrapped around the pool was purposefully hosed down until it had a considerable layer of water on top. Now, it glistened in the heavenly California sun to make everything appeal more sparkly and effervescent than usual.

Thank Heavens, I would not have to walk too far.

I settled into the creamy-blue lounge chair on the patio I've only seen through the safety of my television screen. The pool was even more electric blue and inviting than I imagined. The mansion sat in its vast splendor, the pearly white paint glowed with ethereal importance, projecting a body that was more reminiscent of an Italian villa than the more traditional American architecture that I grew accustomed to seeing on HGTV. The more I stared at it, the more I was convinced that this structure erected before me made out of concrete, wood, and plaster was not necessarily a house, but the biggest prop on set. It was far too pristine to look lived in at all. Every decadent decoration was obtrusive, delicate, and cumbersome and altogether too extravagant for any one person to reasonably go out to buy, pack into a truck, and then position in a corner where it would go onto collect two layers of dust before a producer would walk by and swipe it all away. There were glass blown sculptures of all colors of the rainbow shoved into pearly white corners and abandoned there. Lamps protruded out from the floor, and bent down over chairs that were too pretty to be comfortable, carved into shapes made out of wood with thin cushions tacked on top to present themselves as chairs rather than more elaborate artistic displays of extravagance for the eye to ogle rather than for the body to collapse into after a long day of work. Most of the chairs, I had to bet, would snap like a bunch of toothpicks meeting a wrecking ball after only a week or two of use.