Walk of Shame (2 page)

Chloe dropped me off at the local
train station. I rode it into thirtieth street station and transferred to
another train that rode straight out to the airport. Check in, security, and an
hour of waiting later, I was airborne.

Landing at Los Angeles
International Airport was interesting. It's huge. But, that's okay because I've
gotten pretty freaking awesome at following signs. So I followed them all the
way out to the meeting place where the guy holding the sign, and wearing the nametag
I was supposed to look for, was waiting for me.

"Emmaline Jacobs?"

"That's me."

"Do you need to collect any
baggage?" he asked, taking hold of my carry-on bag.

"Nope."

"Excellent. Please follow
me," and off he went.

I followed him out to a black,
four-door sedan. He held the door open for me. I sat, he shut the door, and he
put my bag in the trunk.

He got into the driver's seat in
front of me and checked his mirrors before pulling out. "My name is Trevor.
I'm the only one assigned to driving you, so don't get into another car with
anybody else claiming to be showing up to take you anywhere."

"Okay, good to know. Nice to
meet you, Trevor."

"And I, you, Miss."

Yeah, no.
I wasn't about
to be called 'Miss' for the next two days. "Please, call me Emma."

"All right. I can either
take you straight to the hotel or take you on the scenic route to acquaint you
with the area."

"Scenic route, please."

He did a wonderful and
informative tour of the area. And when he was through, he asked me a rather
practical question. "Do you have thoughts about where you'd like for me to
drive you for dinner?"

"So you can stand outside
and wait at my beck and call? No, thank you."

He chuckled. "It's my
job."

"I understand, but I'd just
feel the need to order something they don't have to cook and then scarf it down
to finish, so you're not tied up waiting for very long. Does the hotel have a
restaurant?"

"Yes. And room service. And
there are two more restaurants on the same block, so it would be impossible for
you to get lost walking to them."

"Perfect. Just take me to
the hotel, then."

"Anything ordered from room
service, or the restaurant, can be billed to the room. And, if you're
interested, you can rent two movies on the television and the studio will cover
the cost."

"Awesome."

Once he pulled into the parking
lot, he grabbed my suitcase and escorted me inside. "I'll handle check-in
for you. I have the company card and the reservation confirmation. Have a seat.
I'll be back in a moment." He gestured to the waiting area, where several
couches and chairs awaited for someone to set their tushies on them, and headed
for the main desk.

He was back in a few moments and
handed me my key. "I can carry your bag up to your room for you, if you
wish."

"Um, no, thank you. You've
been awesome."

"All right. If you have need
of a ride, just call Elaine's office. You'll get her secretary, and she'll make
sure the request gets to me. I'll be on-call for the next two days."

"Thank you, so much. I hope
not to have to bother you except for getting to the studio and back. ...Um, am
I supposed to tip you? I don't know the protocol."

"No, the studio takes care
of my compensation. Though, the better the word you put in for me at the end,
the better my bonus for the assignment will be."

"Ah."

"Yes. Well, unless you call,
I'll pick you up here in the lobby at eight fifteen tomorrow morning."

"Yes, that's on the schedule
Elaine's office sent me. I'll be down here."

"Very good. Good night,
Emma."

"Good bye, Trevor."

On my elevator ride up the
sixteenth floor, I mulled Trevor over. He had looked to be about my age, but
somehow tried to act older. He floundered between trying to speak and act all
stiff and formal, but then would slip back into a professional but more relaxed
mode. I guess the more formal he was, the bigger the tips. It made me wonder
how long Trevor had been doing the whole chauffer thing.

The room was plush. It wasn't very
big, but it had a Jacuzzi tub, a king-sized bed, and a balcony.

Oh, I instantly had my night
planned out. Order up a snack and a couple drinks for the rest of the day, work
for a few hours out on that balcony, soak in the tub and finish reading the magazine
I got at the Philly Airport, then order up midnight pizza and rent a movie in
bed. Even if the interview went horribly tomorrow, this room and its perks were
worth the trip.

The phone rang about twenty
minutes later. It was housekeeping asking me if the room was all right and if I
needed anything more for the evening. I told her, yes, how about enough pillows
to bury myself. She chuckled and told me that the hotel would let me have a
maximum of ten and that she would be right up with some.

Ten pillows.
This was going to be damn good night. And that's when it hit me how very, very
'single' I lived my life. I shook myself out of that mind frame.
Whatever.
It's sunny and I have a balcony.

"Good morning, Emma,"
Elaine Brown greeted me when I stepped off the elevator for my meeting with
casting and the producers.

"Good morning," I
replied with a smile.

She and I had exchanged a few emails
back and forth since her initial phone call. And she was all I had when it came
to familiar faces, despite the fact that this was the first time we were
meeting face-to-face.

"If you'll follow me, we'll
go ahead and step into the meeting room."

I followed, and tried not to look
too intimidated as I went along.

Pictures of the show's previous
couples lined the hallway. And when I stepped into the room, the only true
decorations were wedding and engagement portraits of the successful matches
that hung on the front wall, on either side of the centered presentation area.

The table was huge. Six chairs
lined each side, with three seats at the head. She sat me in the center seat of
the head. It was an intimidating place to be. It gave the illusion that I was
in charge, even though we all knew that I wasn't.

"Can I get you any coffee,
or water?" Elaine asked.

"Some hot tea, please?"

"Certainly, I'll be right
back."

It had to be a test. Putting me
in the head seat would focus all attention on me, and they wanted to see how I
handled it. Or maybe they just wanted me to feel like I had a say. Maybe that's
how they got girls to agree to do this.
Hmm, tricky.

Elaine's secretary came in to
give me the tea and placed coffee pots, sugar, and creamer on a sideboard. I
waited until she was done, then went over to grab a couple packets of sugar.

I was just about to sit back down
when Elaine, the show's host, Troy, and twelve producers and casting
consultants entered the room.

Elaine made quick introductions
before we all sat, with Elaine to my right and Troy to my left.

I took a deep breath, let the
inquisition begin...

"So, Emmaline, what exactly
is it that you do? I see writer/author listed," number nine asked.

"Emma, please. I write
articles for a travel magazine, and an RV magazine. I contribute to a blog for
a travel website. I have my own author's blog. And, I write contemporary
fiction novels. Three have been traditionally published, and I have a contract
for three more. I also have eight novels independently published online. I hit
a few book conventions and do some book signings throughout the year. There are
also a couple RV shows where I man a table for one of the magazines I write
for."

"So all of that allows for
the flexibility for you to commit to this? Three months for filming, and then
making the talk show rounds once it's all aired?" number five asked.

I nodded. "As long as I have
dates in advance.  There are very few calendar days that I can't work around,
and I've already sent those to Elaine."

"Why are you here? What made
you fill out the application?" number two asked.

I explained my horrible dating
life and lack of opportunity to do any better. I explained that I was ready.
That I'd already tried getting a dog and it just wasn't enough anymore -that
had gotten a chuckle out of them and officially broke the ice for me. Then I
explained the opinions of my family on my life and their thoughts about the
show.

"How old is your
sister?" number ten asked.

"Twenty-two and about to
graduate from college."

"Is she who you'll call for
advice on these guys?" number six asked.

I smiled. "Yes. Not only
will she demand it, but she sees things the same way I do."

"Did you attend a
university?" number eight asked.

"I picked courses from an
online writing institute, with the help of one of their advisers. Whenever I
see a weakness in my writing, or I have one pointed out to me, I try to
pinpoint a course that will help me refine the skill. Lately, I've been
focusing on courses for editing. So, I have a number of credits, but no degree."

"And you support
yourself?" number eleven asked.

"My parents had a small
college fund set aside for me that I use for my courses. I had an inheritance
from my grandfather that I used to purchase the fifth wheel. Other than that,
yes, I support myself."

"What are you looking for in
a husband?" number one asked.

"Well, he's got to be strong
and flexible enough to maneuver his way around an RV of some sort. He must,
must, must have a job. And that job must have him living in an RV. I'm not
going to give up my mobility anytime soon. But, I don't have a problem with his
job determining some of our locations, as my job will do that, too, from time
to time. He has to be an American citizen. He has to be able to speak proper
American English, I'm a writer, have mercy on me. And no kids -unless the
mother is out of the picture- because it'll be too hard to balance getting the
child back and forth between the two parents for visitations."

"What about race or cultural
background?" number twelve asked.

"Bring it on. I'll take a
variety. I love learning about different cultures and sub-cultures. I'm totally
flexible. I don't mind regional accents, either, so long as I can clearly
understand them. And if you all are going to mix it up, for the love of all
that's holy, bring me a man in a kilt and throw him into the mix. And while I
don't much care for full business suits, I love guys in uniforms."

"How athletic are you?"
number three asked.

"I like to start my morning
out with some sort of exercise. I change it up depending on what's available
around me and where I am. Running, biking, swimming, hiking, a little boating.
I figure all my travelling doesn't do me any good if I don't get out and see
the area. I'm big on national and state parks. I just want all the comforts of
home to return to, to do my work in."

"What kind of dog do you
have? What's her temperament?" number nine asked.

"Goldie is a golden
retriever. She's right by my side when I'm out and about, as much as the local
guidelines will allow her to be. She's very well trained and obedient. And at
some point, she has to meet the guys. If she doesn't like someone, there's
generally a reason. I won't get too serious about someone she's going to growl
at."

The questions went on and on
and
on
, everyone taking more than a couple turns. I asked questions as well. We
took a break at noon for a light lunch. Then Elaine whisked me off to a small
photo shoot. They wanted me to try on different dresses and outfits and pose
with them on so they could get a feel for what designs worked well on me and
what my best angles were.

By three-thirty, I was done and
back in the car with Trevor. I was told that I would have an answer within a
week.

I was mentally shot to hell.

"Would you like to get any
shopping done before your return trip tomorrow?" he asked.

"In LA? I don't think my
check book could handle that."

"How about LA shopping on a
real-world budget?"

"What did you have in
mind?"

"Did you know that LA has
Goodwills
?
And that those
Goodwills
can be loaded with designer labels?"

"Oh? Do tell."

"I even know of a couple
that don't jack up the prices much just because of a brand."

"You better not be lying to
me," I warned with a sparkle in my eye.

"My mother taught me to
never kid about a good bargain."

"Well,
drive on, my good man. Take me to the Nirvana of
Goodwills
."

The call came in Monday
afternoon.

Mom had spent the week cooking
all of Chloe's and my favorites. She'd sent Chloe back to college with a bag
full of leftovers. Now the woman was trying to rearrange and stockpile plastic
containers in my small fridge and freezer.

"Is this really all the cold
storage you have?" she asked. "I don't understand how you can live
like this."

"Not everybody freezes
everything, Mom. We don't all need an upright freezer and a chest freezer, like
some people do."

"Hey, others can what they
make, I freeze."

"Well if you canned you
could stack some stuff on the passenger seat of the truck and your mothering
wouldn't be so limited." I let out a heavy sigh before caving in. "If
I open up the outdoor grill, there's a small fridge in there." I pulled
the key out of my pocket and we walked outside and along the side to the grill
area door.

"You're going to have to eat
all the stuff in the fridges first, you won't have very long to enjoy
them," she warned.

I stood behind her and rolled my
eyes. I had half a mind to stop by my uncle's house and leave most of it in his
freezer. My cousins would love it if I did that. At least then, I could stop at
my favorite Mennonite farm market on my way out of town and stock up on all
sorts of things I can only seem to get from around here.