Chapter Four - Tristan
The whole thing felt absurd. Sitting behind a curtain watching a parade of women. I felt a lingering, stabbing irritation about it. Even if the woman I’d met on social media, the fascinating woman I couldn’t shake from my thoughts, was here, it wouldn’t change the fact that this wasn’t the introduction I would have picked. I’d still rather meet a woman on my own than through all this ceremony, and I couldn’t help but think it would be more successful my way.
The women who had walked past so far were not helping my mood. I wanted one of them to be the girl from Facebook, but everyone who walked past bored me, no matter how tight their dress, how much their hips swung when they danced, or how well their bikini showed their skin. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, what it was that made someone unforgettable, but none of them had it. Several of them made faces toward the curtains that I was sure were supposed to be for me. They all misjudged my hiding place, and the gestures only made me roll my eyes. I slouched back in my chair, considering calling for a strong drink.
I wanted one of them to be the girl I knew as Christa, wanted to look at one of them and know. What would identify her, I wasn’t sure. I’d thought it about it the night before, though. I was supposed to be reading about an upcoming business merger that would benefit Ladoria. Instead, I’d stayed up, reading over conversations with Christa, imagining her being one of the girls today. I wanted to hear her voice, hear her say out loud the things she’d typed, wanted to see the face I felt sure was incredibly sexy, wanted to kiss her until she was breathless.
The women in front of me were a sea of faces, each like the last. I didn’t think any of them could possibly be Christa. Twenty-three women so far, and I couldn’t remember a thing about any of them.
I wasn’t holding out any hope for number twenty-four, Ella―until I saw her. As soon as she walked on stage, there was something about her that made me sit up. She was beautiful, for certain, but it wasn’t that. This girl had something else. There was intelligence in her eyes and a flush across her cheeks as she walked.
She was clearly nervous, pulling on the hem of the pink dress she had on, crossing and uncrossing her arms. She danced like she wanted to get it over with, looking out past an imaginary audience, eyes far away from me. But I wanted her closer, wanted to know more about her. Everything she did, every movement, made me want to keep watching her. She almost seemed scared, frightened. It made me want to shut everything down, tell everyone to stop, to stop looking at her. It made me want to take her away somewhere safe and remote. It made me want to kiss her. Made me want to make her eyes get wide for better, more pleasurable reasons.
I circled her name on the list and motioned for a servant.
“I need a drink, make it whiskey,” I said, “and get the event planner.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, scurrying away with a quick nod. I leaned back again, hardly watching as two other women performed.
“Is everything satisfactory?” the event planner said, coming up beside me, holding my drink. I took it out of his hand and took a long drink before answering.
“No,” I said, “but I’ve made a decision.”
“About a woman?” the planner asked, looking startled. His face was extra red, like maybe this was all very stressful for him. It was bullshit since I was the one who was supposed to be deciding their whole romantic future based on this day. If anyone should get to be stressed, it should be me.
“Obviously,” I said, annoyed.
“There are still twenty to go, you cannot decide yet,” he said, looking flustered. I took another long sip of my drink.
“The rest of them are free to walk across the stage, but I’ve already chosen,” I said. Number twenty-four, Ella, was the most intriguing girl I’d seen all day. I wanted to get to know her, wanted her close to me. I wondered if she was Christa, if somehow, impossibly, I had known when I saw her, but even if she wasn’t, I wanted her.
“Fifty are chosen for a reason, and with great care--” he started.
“Number twenty-four,” I said, throwing the list at him and gulping down the rest of my drink. The event planner opened his mouth, then shut it again quickly, like he thought better of whatever he was about to say. He walked away, nodding once.
I motioned for another drink, impatient to meet Ella.