There was something about large groups of girls that give me high levels of anxiety. I wasn't a sharer of feelings, or comfortable talking about lists of movie men I crushed on, or the high pitch levels to which such emotions were verbally expressed.
So I always had a good excuse ready in my pocket to help me steer clear of large groups of women because feelings and large decibels left me itching to run away screaming. But as I sat in the kitchen with two reality tv contestants, suddenly being around women didn't seem so scary, and I was reminded of why women were so awesome.
Smaller groups gave a chance at deeper conversations filled with honesty instead of scrambling for common ground, and gave you looks into the details that made people beautiful.
I worked in lies and analyzing feelings, so I preferred to spend time connecting about what mattered when I could. To understand the puzzle of a person. And finally, after weeks of being forced into mind games and glittery events, I was getting my chance at a hint of normal.
And nothing brought people together like a common enemy. Or ice cream. A WHOLE lot of ice cream. And in my case, I had access to both and I was going to use it.
I sat surrounded by tule, melted ice cream and a high level of anger. All normal to me— other than the tule— and all a welcome, yet strange sight when thrown on the two women with me, Prism and Mary Grey.
It would have made Michale scream if he saw all of us, risking ruining our beautiful gowns for mint chocolate chip ice cream, but to me it was no contest. We all needed that ice cream. It was not just for our own sanity, but to keep ourselves from going on an angry rampage. So it was really for the safety of everyone else.
You're welcome world.
So, to keep everyone alive, we stood around the kitchen island, each of us eating straight from our own pint of ice cream, spoons burrowing deep, striking out against our frozen heaven like we were out for revenge.
"This place is insane," Prism muttered as she shoved a spoon full of ice cream into her mouth.
Mary Grey nodded. "I really don't think Ace knew."
Prism sighed, tapping the tip of her spoon into the pint of ice cream with a thoughtful expression. "If that man wasn't so dang hot I would have run out of here screaming by now."
I looked between them, finding the entire conversation to be one of the strangest one's I had ever been apart of. "This is weird right?"
Prism snorted. "Everything here is weird."
I shook my head. "No, I mean..." I waved my spoon in a circle to signify the three of us. "...all of us trying to win over the same guy."
Mary Grey smiled a soft, embarrassed smile down at her pint of ice cream. "A little. But if you think about it, we do this in real life. This situation is just a more... sped up, rubbed in our faces, and a weirdly violent process."
I tilted my head, taking in Mary Grey, surprised by her thought process. "So, do you often fight with other women in real life for a guys affection?"
Mary Grey looked up at me, startled, face burning red. "Goodness no! I just mean..." she paused, thinking. "I just mean that we tend to find certain men attractive and we go into a panic to snatch them up first. And the producers just took that idea and made a show out of it."
Prism shook her head, frowning. "Sure to a degree. But I think it comes down to what a challenge it is to find love. We have more tech and apps than ever before but we struggle just as much to make real connections. It's exhausting."
"Speaking of Ace," I said carefully. "How have things been going with him? I mean besides the train wreck that was most of our family visits." I forced myself to ask it. I needed a douse of reality. A reminder that Andrew wasn't mine.
Mary Grey blushed again, pausing for a long moment, eyes looking everywhere but at Prism and me. "Good," she finally murmured.
I was left with a strange feeling in my stomach that resembled an angry ferret trying to scramble out of a cage. Something that I tried to pacify with more ice cream.
Prism wiggled her eyebrows at Mary Grey. "I think that's Mary Grey talk for 'oh my stars! I'm in love and I can't believe this is real!'"
Mary Grey somehow managed to turn a shade redder, but didn't deny it.
"Wow! She really has it bad!" Prism said with a grin. "I don't blame you. I think we all do. He's handsome and sweet and..." she trailed off, sighing.
"Should we be talking about this?" Mary Grey said softly. "Talking about Ace when he's not here? Won't it sound like gossip, or trading secrets?"
Prism snorted and waved her spoon. "Um no. They would never air this conversation."
Mary Grey blinked, uncomprehending. Prism shot me a look that said 'please explain to this poor, yet adorable creature how reality tv works before I try and the result just terrifies her.'
"The show loves drama. And right now we are eating ice cream and being nice to each other," I explained.
"In other words, it's boooooring to the viewer," Prism added shooting me a dangerous smile. "The two rival divas having ice cream and chatting like civilized people?!? The horror!" She grinned. "And right now we need a break, so we are eating ice cream and making it boring. It's their punishment for those terrible home visits."
I held up my pint of ice cream. "To being boring. Who knew that was the best way to get some breathing room."
Mary Grey smiled and held up her ice cream, followed by Prism. We clanked our pints together and went back to eating in silence. Then Prism suddenly dropped her spoon and smiled brightly. "So! I know Delle is a poker player, which by the way is a dumb job," she said shooting me a cheeky smile. "But I have no idea what you do Mary."
Mary Grey went to tug on a strand of her hair and then realized she was supposed to look presentable for a party later and let her hand fall back on the table without messing with her hair. "I'm a grad student."
"What do you study?" I asked, thankful that Prism had a way of asking that didn't sound like an interrogation. I'll have to learn how to do that.
"Psychology." Mary Grey said with a hint of softness. She was passionate about it. Glancing at Prism she asked. "What do you do?"
Prism tilted her head up and flicked several strands of hair off of her shoulder with a proud smile. "I own a flower shop. I meet a lot of last minute shoppers who forgot their anniversary, valentines day or other special events. It's hilarious and financially helpful for business."
I snorted. "People still get each other flowers?"
Prism raised a brow, assessing before her look changed to one of understanding. "Don't hate flowers because they haven't been apart of your story yet."
I moved to argue, but she raised her brow higher, and I snapped my mouth shut. Prism had a point. No one had ever gotten me flowers before. It wasn't flowers fault that I had so little experience with them.
"There is so much to flowers. One for each occasion, and each one says something different." Prism's eyes were bright, passion burning with each word that crossed her lips. "You can declare love with flowers, say sorry with flowers, you can friend zone with flowers. They can do anything. Heal, hurt, fill a house with color, great smells..." She waved her hand, seeming to remember where she was and how long she had been talking about flowers. "You get the idea."
We fell into silence again, diving back into our ice cream, our minds moving to the night ahead. "I'm scared," Mary Grey admitted. "The Walker's sound..."
"Terrifying?" Prism guessed. "Yeah. They do."
"Then let's turn this on its head," I suggested. "Let's help each other survive this. Team up for one night to survive."
Mary Grey smiled, relieved at my suggestion. "Okay. Yeah... I'd like that."
She had no idea how dangerous things were, and I couldn't outright tell her, but I had to protect her, and her agreement would make that easier.
Prism shot me an approving nod, before taking a large bite of ice cream like she was ripping an enemies head off. "Let's show 'em what kind of fabulously dressed women they are messing with."
...
If I had thought the reality tv mansion was big and beautiful, the Walker Home was castle level grand and just as breathtaking. It had it's own name, which was my first clue that they lived on their own planet of wealth.
"Welcome to the Fides House," Jade said motioning up to the house as Prism, Mary Grey and I slipped out of the car, struggling to pull our massive gowns free from the car door. "This house has been in the Walker family for five generations, and each year, they add another feature."
The five story structure was built of stone and large glass windows. To the left was an expansive garden and hedge maze. To the right was a pond with bright, colorful lights that lit a fountain at the center. Large thick trees could be seen in the distance behind the house. Tall trees lined the driveway, acting like sentries, threatening in their reminder to all who approached that they would never stand a chance against the Walkers.
Fides means Loyalty... but loyal to what? Why that name?
We walked towards the expansive castle like Dorthy and her friends from The Wizard of Oz, trying to keep our calm in a world that screamed power.
Jade made it to the large deep red doors and pushed them open, spilling light onto our bodies as we squinted into the entrance. We were ushered inside before I could take in more than the sight of chandeliers and marble floors, and then suddenly, we were in a large ballroom that was already filled with strangers— an introvert's worst nightmare as evidence by Mary Grey's sudden stiffness— and the sound of conversation and a string quartet.
"Breathe Mary," Prism encouraged. "You got this."
She nodded, but the stiffness stayed as we were pushed into the center of the room, like the newest center pieces to be stared at. It took all of my fortitude not to scowl at the faces that turned to stare.
Oh gosh, I hate this.
The room was white marble floors, large candelabras that flickered in the low light, massive windows that pushed out onto a balcony that overlooked the garden, and thick velvet curtains. I would have marveled at it if I wasn't so aware of all the eyes taking us in, assessing us for flaws, and deciding where we stacked.
I spotted Andrew talking to an older woman with ink black hair that was streaked with grey. She wore a pinched expression, her body ramrod straight with a practiced posture of power and grace. Her cream dress was loose against her petite form.
Andrew wore a midnight black suit that was tailored perfectly for his broad shoulders and was striking against his deep red tie. I had to fight a smile, wondering how Michale had discovered Andrew's choice of outfit. His tie matched my dress.
Clever, clever boy.
Andrew must have sensed my gaze because a moment later his eyes found mine across the room, sending an electric bolt through me. He drank me in, eyes falling across my body, taking in the sight of me in the dress. His eyes grew dark and I suddenly felt like running. Utterly seen and wanted under his unflinching, gaze. I was everything, and it was almost too much to handle.
But then is face faltered as he took in at the two girls with me, his brow creased with confusion.
They didn't tell him. The show sent the others away and he had no idea.
Suddenly, Andrew was on the move, stopping before us, making no pretense to hide his expression behind a smile. "What's wrong?" he asked, eyes staying on mine for a long moment before going to the other two girls.
"They sent the other's home," I said, voice soft. "They got all dressed up and then were kicked out of the house."
Shock flashed across his face, his voice dangerously low. "What?"
"This is probably some kind of test," I said carefully, aware of the others nearby. "Yell at the producers later."
He nodded, pinching his nose before forcing a calm look onto his face. "You're right. We are among sharks now."
"Now really, is that any way to talk about your family," said the woman he had been talking to moments before as she came to stand next to him, shooting him a chastising look. "Let alone your mother."
Andrew turned, his smile becoming more tense as his eyes landed on his mother. "Ladies, allow me to introduce you to Lindsey Walker, my mother."
Lindsey's eyes, the color of sharp, steel grey, slashed across the three of us, assessing. She looked bored as she turned back to her son. "Scared the others away already dear?" He voice was unreadable, but her irritation was clear. She didn't like any of us, dismissed in a single sentence.
Andrew went stiff, and I could see him determining how much to share, how to spin this sudden surprise into something that wouldn't make us look like random choices left behind. They had all been expecting three more people. How did that make him look?
"Wow... killed the party already?" Luke asked walking up to stand next to Andrew. Unlike Andrew, Luke was dressed far more casually. A blue blazer, a white shirt that was left the two top buttons unbuttoned and no tie. He had come because it was expected, but he was making it clear his performance would only go so far.
Luke took in the scene with a practiced smile. "And before these beautiful ladies have even gotten past the first Walker." He tsked, shooting a loaded look at his step mother. "And here I thought Walker's were known for their hospitality, Mother."
The single word at the end of the sentence seemed to rip out of him, like it took sheer force of will to get the word to land where it belonged. He was bound to the illusion that had been created for him. Lindsey Walker wasn't his mother, but with others around, he would play the game.
Lindsey's eyes somehow grew sharper as her gaze went back to us, ignoring Luke completely. "I was merely jesting. Each girl here must have her qualities if Ace has deemed them worthy of our house."
Mary Grey seemed to shrink under Lindsey's gaze, causing my older sister instincts to kick in. I took a step forward, drawing her eye to me. "Thank you for inviting us to your home Mrs. Walker," I said, attempting civility even as I itched to shove a macaroon into her face from a tray that moved past.
Her eyes narrowed further, and the look of them reminded me of twin daggers. "You must be Ms. Delle Falls. The famous poker player." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "My son tells me you are an excellent judge of character. That you can read people quite well."
Andrew's eyes were on me, but I refused to look away from his mother as she continued to take me in, picking me apart like I was a poorly constructed tapestry with too many loose strands that needed to be unraveled. "Tell me Ms. Falls, what do you make of me?"
The air was sucked out of the room as everyone in the ballroom leaned in, eager for my response, curious of Mrs. Walker's question. It was a test. One I had to decide how to handle.
"Play nice," Decker urged in my ear.
Michale scoffed. "No way, put her in her place. That tone of hers drew first blood, use that sharp tongue and slash her back."
I ignored them both, my eyes still on Mrs. Walker. "A Walker need not be told where they stand in this world," I replied. "Everyone knows who and what they are."
Mrs. Walker's body grew stiff. "And what are we, Ms. Falls?"
I could feel Luke and Andrew, each staring at me, a warning in their eyes. One I was tempted to ignore.
"Far more powerful than I," I replied, my voice even.
Mrs. Walker chuckled, a fake response of kindness. "A safe answer, but a clever one considering what each of us in this room are."
She glanced at the other two girls before her eyes came back to mine. "I look forward to discussing this more at dinner."
Then she floated away, her eyes finally finding something else to tear apart.
I found myself suddenly alone as Prism and Mary Grace were each swallowed by Walker's and guests, bombarded with fake compliments and testing questions. Before the same could happen to me, I made a beeline for the balcony, taking in a large breath of fresh air and soaking in the silence, mentally preparing for whatever came next.
"Already spooked by my family?"
I turned towards the sound of a raspy voice in the shadows to find an old man standing at the edge of the balcony, broad shoulders hunched over, his wispy white hair short, dark eyes taking in the garden beyond. "These events can get a bit much," he continued, his voice thoughtful.
A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "My daughter in law is... quite protective of her sons."
So this is Andrew's grandfather.
I slowly moved to stand next to him, staring out at the flowers. "Beautiful aren't they?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I planted them myself." His old fingers gripped a cane, the end of each finger chapped red with a days work in the garden.
"You have time to work in the garden?" I asked.
He is in charge of the Walker Empire. When does he have time to garden?
He chuckled. "We find time for the things that matter to us." He looked down, eyes unreadable. "You would be amazed at how much time there is to fill when the torch gets passed. My daughter in law runs most things these days." He gripped his cane tighter to keep himself steady on his feet. "And has hurt the boys more than I'd like to admit."
He shrugged, eyes back on the flowers. "I should have handled things better."
Before I could reply, he turned to leave, seeming done with our one sided conversation. "I'll leave you to your own thoughts. Balconies are best left to solitary thinkers."
Then he hobbled away, cane clacking across the ground as he slowly shuffled his way back inside. He paused at the door, turning to shoot me a concerned expression. "I do wish you the best of luck with our family dear. This place can be quite challenging."
Then he was gone, leaving me alone to chew on his words.
My gaze fell on the flowers again, a tapestry of short shrubs sporting pink flowers, thick rose bushes, and a dozen of other plants I couldn't name. But I didn't have to know what they were called to appreciate the sweet aroma that brushed across me as the wind changed.
He has good taste in flowers.
"Hiding?" Andrew asked coming to stand next to me on the balcony.
"Mentally preparing," I contradicted, eyes still on the flowers.
"I'm sorry about my mom," he said into the darkness.
"I'm sorry about my dad," I added.
We fell into silence, staring into the dark, eyes soaking in the garden beyond.
"You left," he said softly after a long moment.
I was suddenly back in Andrew's room, waking up in his arms, my fingers buried in his shirt, his hand draped protectively across my body.
I shoved the image away before I could fall back into that moment. "I..."
I stalled, suddenly remembering that nothing was secret anymore. That any words I said would be heard by all. I turned, taking him in, trying to find a way to explain. "I didn't want to disturb you."
His dark eyes caught on mine. "You don't disturb me."
I shrugged, trying to make light of the expression in his eyes, the warmth that tried to strangle my determination to keep him at arms length. "Give it time."
He took a step towards me and then paused, seeming to collect himself. "I want you to know something..." he said, searching my face. Something in his tone sent my heart racing, a mix of want and fear mixing inside. "I pick you."
I blinked, uncomprehending. "What?"
He placed his hand against my cheek, his eyes full of fire. "I pick you. At the end of this. I choose you, Delle Falls."
I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened and everything froze. "Andrew," I managed.
No. Don't do this.
His eyes didn't waver. His voice steady as he drank me in. "I wasn't expecting them to send anyone else home so soon, and the way that they did was wrong, but... I've known for a while what I want. Who I want and I need you to know that."
I tried to push away the shiver that ran down my back at his words. Words that were beautiful, and passionate, and caused my heart to crack.
He wants me. He chooses me.
I shook my head, stepping back from him, needing to put space between us. My head spun, my breathing unsteady. "But..." I swallowed. "What about your parents request?" I knew he had agreed to their Walker family tradition. To go through the dating process. He wasn't supposed to take short cuts. He wasn't supposed to know who to pick. Not yet. Not when I wasn't done looking for the answer to who was hurting people. Not when I was suddenly the answer he was looking for.
It isn't supposed to happen this way. I can't do this. I can't fix this.
He took a step towards me again, his face catching in the moonlight. "I don't care. I didn't think I'd find someone like you in this process and now that I have, I don't care about the rest." His fingers brushed against mine.
I wanted to protest. To argue. To explain that if he sabotaged himself, he'd have to start over. That I'd break his heart and force him back into another spectacle all over again. That I was a lie. That everything we had was an illusion that I had created. That I had conned him so I could hunt for the person that killed his ex girlfriend.
"Andrew..." My breathing was shallow as I stared down at Andrew's hands as his fingers wove with mine, warm and steady. Hands that created such beautiful things. Carved magic that his family never wanted. Hands that comforted instead of hurt. Hands that were gentle and kind.
I couldn't look him in the eye. "Don't send anyone else home. Play this through to the end."
He fell silent at my words and I could see the confusion in his eyes as I forced myself to look back up into his face. "Mary Grey and Prism are good people. And they deserve a shot too. Finish this the right way. Don't leave any loopholes that could be used against you."
He swallowed, conflict waring in his eyes. "I don't want to lie. To pretend with anyone."
"Just... think about it. See how tonight goes. Don't promise me something before you are sure. You could decide after watching me with your family that I don't have the chops to handle this life."
I turned and walked towards the ballroom, itching to get away, feeling like a coward. I could see everyone being gathered for dinner and I was suddenly eager for it, for a chance to end this conversation.
"Delle."
I froze but refused to turn around at Andrew's gentle tone. "I am sure about this."
I shook my head, scrunching my eyes shut for a long moment, forcing myself to breathe. "No... you're not."
Then I left, moving back into the ballroom as everyone was called to dinner, a reminder that soon, everyone would be testing me. Testing my reserve and determining if I was worthy of Andrew Walker. Worthy of a man whose heart I would soon break.
----
Thank you for reading chapter forty-three! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS- A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
It's time for Walker Family interrogation! What kind of questions will they ask Delle, Mary Grey and Prism?
Will Andrew regret what he just told Delle? Will he change his mind?
What do you think of Andrew's mother?
Who will be next to get kicked off?
Any theories on what will happen next?
CHAPTER QUESTION - If you were at a family dinner and someone new was coming, what kind of questions would you ask them?