PleasureGames: A Games Novella Read online

Makeup was torture. No matter how much I protested about the amount of makeup they were airbrushing onto my skin, the stylist ignored me and did what she wanted, right down to fake lashes. My eyes watered with the amount of makeup she'd put on me, but I had to admit that it made me look mysterious and stylish. Itchy and somewhat caked with powder? Yes. But stylish!

  The worst part of the day was hair. The man in charge of hair declared my fine locks a disaster due to the humidity. When he was done with me, I was chagrined to see that I was now the proud owner of a beehive hairdo with a flower clip in the back.

  I looked awful. I also looked twenty years older. When I got out of the chair, I immediately found Leona, who was still in the fitting room (she'd gained weight since the fitting and they'd had to let out her seams). "Leona," I told her, and pointed helplessly at my tall helmet of hair. "Help?"

  "Oh dear Lord," my friend exclaimed. "Come sit down and let me fix that."

  I plopped into a chair and Leona hovered behind me, tsking at the wealth of bobby pins gluing my hair together. "What the hell is this?"

  "A mess," I agreed. "Can you fix it?"

  "I can," Leona said, tugging a pin out of the hair sprayed mess. "But I'm just curious why you care? You said you didn't care about the billionaire and just wanted the vacation?"

  "That's true," I told her. I really wasn't interested in finding a man. I wanted the money. It was purely mercenary on my part. "But that doesn't mean I want to look stupid on national television."

  "Good point." Leona winked at me. "Let me see what I can do."

  A short time later, my stiff hair was redone into a variety of smaller braids surrounding a longer, intricately braided one. Since my hair was now so stiff with goo, she didn't have to work hard to give me volume and the result made it look as if I had a thick weave of long, dark hair instead of my normal limp locks. It looked fabulous. I still didn't look like myself, but at least I didn't look like I was going to a 1965 prom. "You're a wonder, Leona."

  "Now you need to impress that billionaire bachelor so your good friend can get a national styling gig."

  I snorted. "How about you take the guy and I'll take the loser's fee and we'll both be happy?"

  "Works for me!" Leona said cheerfully, and began to fix her own hair.

  Once we were done with wardrobe and makeup, we were sent to the 'party room'. "This is where the ladies will hang out until it's time for them to meet our bachelor," a production assistant gushed. "Feel free to make yourselves at home. You'll be spending time here each night while waiting for our Decision Ceremony."

  "Decision Ceremony?" I asked, curious.

  The assistant nodded, her eyes wide. "Per the rules of the show and to go with the island theme, our bachelor will have a number of island hibiscus. When he chooses a woman, he's going to tuck the flower behind her ear to show that he chooses her."

  "That sounds so romantic," Leona murmured.

  "It sounds sexist," I told her. "Why doesn't he just lift a leg and spray to mark his territory? I mean, really."

  Leona swatted my arm. "Don't ruin this! You have to play along or you won't get your money."

  "Right." I needed that money. I fixed a dopey, blank grin on my face. "I can't wait to get my claiming flower. Whee."

  "Better," Leona said with a giggle.

  The party room was a lushly decorated outdoor terrace. Overhead, strings of tiny paper lanterns hung, swaying in the breeze. Thick vines of flowers trailed over the pergola beams and the floor was a lovely terrazzo that made me want to examine it closer. On the edges of the terrace, white outdoor curtains fluttered and a large fountain burbled in the center of the terrace. It was gorgeous and tropical and just what I expected at an island resort.

  It was just a shame that I had to be trussed up like a show pony to experience it.

  "Welcome, ladies," said a man in a white jacket as he approached. He immediately plucked two glasses of champagne off of a tray he carried and gave them to us. "Drink up. There's plenty more where that came from."

  I stared at the drink in my hand and watched as the waiter went to a nearby cluster of women and exchanged their empty glasses for new, full ones. "I think they're trying to get us drunk," I told Leona.

  "Mm, I wouldn't be surprised. We probably make better TV that way," she said, then sipped her champagne. "Holy shit, this stuff's the bomb. Try yours!"

  I took a guarded sip. Sure enough, it was incredible. It took everything I had to sip slowly. The last thing I wanted was to be sloppy drunk on television. Some of the other women didn't seem to have that fear, I noticed, watching one tilt her drink back and take a huge swig.

  "Should we mix with the others and see what we can find out about them? See what the competition is?" Leona asked me.

  "Wow, do you want to win that badly?"

  "I wouldn't mind a little billionaire bachelor action...if he's hot." Leona winked at me. "If he's ugly, you can have him."

  I just shook my head at her and took another sip of my drink to wet my dry throat. I wasn't feeling competitive in the slightest. Leona knew all about my past, about the incident more than eight years ago that made it hard for me to trust men, and it had kind of killed the dating game for me for a long, long time. I'd chosen my career over love, and I was here on this island because of my career, not because I wanted some guy to cuddle with.

  Even if I did, a dating game show seemed like a stupid place to find a man.

  "Hi ladies," Leona said, approaching a small circle of women. "I'm Leona, a professional hair-braider, and this is Juno, who's a glass artisan. What do you ladies do?"

  One redhead tossed her hair and gave me a haughty look. "I see you got the white dress."

  "Oh. Um." I looked down at the dress I currently loathed. "They didn't let me pick."

  "Want to switch?"

  I eyed the canary yellow empire-waisted gown she was wearing. On her, it was gorgeous. On me, I'd look like a lumpy, pregnant Big Bird. "No?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "Might want to hold onto your glass tight, then. I'd hate for you to spill something."

  Holy shit. Did she just threaten me?

  "Let's go," Leona said brightly. She grabbed my arm and began to drag me away.

  "Dude," I called over my shoulder. "I don't want him. You can have the bachelor."

  "Shhh," Leona said, glaring at me. She steered me to a corner of the room. "We might have misjudged the friendliness of the other contestants."

  "Yeah," I agreed. "There might be one here that doesn't want to scratch my eyes out to get ahead. Maybe." I gave her a look. "And it's you."

  She giggled. "I'm more into paper rock scissors, myself."

  "Maybe we should just commandeer a corner," I suggested. "We can people watch and get a good idea about the other women here."

  Leona nodded. "And I can protect your dress from any 'accidents'." She made quote marks with her fingers.

  We found a bench in the back of the room and sat, fixing our swishy skirts and watching the women mingle. As we did, I grew increasingly jaded about the company here. I was pretty sure most of the girls here were dazzled by the word 'billionaire' more than anything. If this poor shmuck thought he was going to find his ladylove amongst the pile of gold diggers here tonight, he was sorely mistaken. The women are pretty, sure, but as Leona and I watched chatting women drift past, we heard the same things mentioned over and over again.

  Net worth.

  Money.

  Fortune.

  I rolled my eyes and fiddled with my still-full glass of champagne. They weren't looking to fall in love, either, these women. They were looking for a payday. For a moment, I felt sorry for our hapless bachelor, whoever he was. Another champagne was quickly placed into my hand by the waitstaff, and even as I turned to tell the man I wasn't thirsty, the double doors at the back of the room opened and a bell chimed. Someone was here.

  A gray haired man walked in, dressed in a tuxedo, complete with tails. He bowed stiffly to the women in the room, and it got rea
lly damn quiet for a long moment. I knew we were all thinking the same thing - is this the guy? I studied him. Kinda orange - fake tan. Lots of makeup. Big, shiny smile. Definitely at least seventy. Sooo not my type.

  I leaned over to Leona. "You can have him."

  She giggled into her champagne. "He's not that bad if you're into May-December kink."

  I wasn't. Judging from the blank looks on several women's faces, they weren't, either.

  The man straightened and cleared his throat. "Ladies. My name is Lawrence Felding. I am your host for Pleasures of Eden. Very shortly, you'll be meeting our mysterious bachelor.

  An audible sigh of relief rose in the room, and I muffled a rude giggle behind my hand. Guess we were shallow after all if we wanted a sexy young thing to go with the big fat wallet. Not that I cared, right? I didn't want the bachelor either way. Still, it was more fun, I supposed, if he was mega-hot instead of just...lukewarm. Drooling over a stud for the next month would be a lot more fun than if he was just kind of blah.

  Lawrence studied us all with an elegant expression, and then clasped his hands together. "Tonight, you will all have the chance to meet your new man. I think you'll find him to be an exciting, interesting individual that will fulfill all your fantasies."

  I made a face at his choice of words. "Our new man? Fantasies? God, they are making this sound so gross," I whispered to Leona.

  She gave me a quelling look and put a finger to her lips. Guess someone was buying into the 'fantasy' after all.

  Lawrence gestured at the walls. "You will notice there are no cameramen in the house. That is because while you are on location, our cameras will be located in the walls. This is to create as unobtrusive an environment as possible. We want you to relax and be yourselves. We want you to feel at home here in the mansion."

  "We want you to forget we're filming and drink to your heart's content," I added under my breath. This time, Leona snorted.

  "Please keep in mind that while you are on location, all scenarios are fair game. No conversation is truly private, and no moment is truly alone."

  Well wasn't that very 1984 of them. I peered at the nearby vines clinging to the arbor. Were there cameras hidden there? I made a face at a flower, testing the thought. If there were cameras everywhere like they promised, maybe they'd catch some of the girls adjusting their boobs in their dresses. I'd gotten an eyeful already myself.

  Lawrence gave us another beatific smile and continued speaking. He spread his hands, as if welcoming us. "Tonight, ladies, tonight is all about the magic of first meetings."

  "And corn, apparently. Lots of corn," I muttered.

  Leona put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

  "Tonight, we're going to give you a name tag so our billionaire can learn your names. Initial introductions will be private. You'll be called in, one by one, to meet our bachelor. Then, we will have a few hours of mingling followed by the Decision Ceremony."

  I frowned. So we had to wait for our turn - which was creepy in itself - and then wait around for Mr. Hotpants to come and mingle with us? This was like the slow, horrible cousin to speed dating. Why had I signed up for this again? Oh right, fifty grand and saving my business. That was why. I wished I could be less mercenary over the whole thing. As wide-eyed and excited about the possibilities as Leona currently was. But...it just wasn't me. I was a cynical, snarky bitch who'd had her heart broken years ago and still hated the guy with the fire of a thousand suns.

  Setting me up for the blind date of the century wouldn't change that.

  "Does anyone have any questions?" Lawrence asked.

  I pondered this. I needed to pee, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to maneuver in my long, flowing white dress. "Are they filming in the bathrooms too?"

  Lawrence gave me a stern look, indicating that he wasn't going to answer that. "Are there any real questions?"

  "I think that's a legit question," I piped up.

  He ignored me.

  "That's not a 'no, of course we're not filming in the bathrooms'," I pointed out.

  He shook his head and walked out of the room.

  "That's still not a no," I called after him. "If you weren't, you'd just say so, right? Right? Hello? Larry?"

  "Juno, hush," Leona said, a frown creasing her brow. "Maybe you should lay off the booze."

  "I haven't had much," I told her, demonstrating my nearly full glass. "I just honestly don't want to be filmed with my panties around my freaking ankles. Is that so wrong?" Several other women started to murmur in agreement, looking concerned.

  A voice piped into the intercom. "Ladies, this is the producer. We will not - repeat - will not be filming you in the bathroom. Please calm down."

  Leona gave me an exasperated look. "You're going to get us booted on day one."

  "Fingers crossed that you're right," I agreed. Heck, if we were expelled from this charade early, I'd get to explore the island. The whole castle set-up was intriguing to me, and I longed to get out and roam the streets of the surrounding area. Maybe even snorkel. All islands had snorkeling, right?

  I'd be voted off after tonight, so my stay on Pleasures of Eden wouldn't be memorable. That was fine with me. I wasn't even in the same league as some of the women here. I looked over at a woman standing nearby. She was in a stunning red gown, her long blonde hair cascading down her back in a smooth waterfall. Her breasts were magnificent, too. I stared at them, then down at my own average boobs. Damn. It was pretty obvious to me which girls were going to stay and which were going to go. Some of the women were downright stunning. Actually, most of them were. One or two women had a more subdued look, and then there was my buddy Leona, who was all curves and smiles. She wasn't the prettiest or the thinnest, but when you met her, you couldn't help but love her. If she got to speak, then the billionaire would certainly pick her. I kept my fingers crossed that he'd adore her as much as I did. She dated a lot, but she also dated the wrong kinds of guys.

  I had higher hopes for my bestie than for myself.

  "Jenni?" Lawrence called from the top of the stairs and gestured at the ornate double doors behind him.. "We'll start our private introductions with you."

  Three women stepped forward, then looked at each other in confusion.

  Lawrence consulted a clipboard, then looked back at the women again. "Jenni F, please come with me."

  A gorgeously stacked brunette in royal blue swayed after him. I watched her go, frowning. Okay, all of these women were leagues hotter than I was. How did I get picked for this? I looked over at Leona again, pondering. It was clear why Leona was picked - she had an amazing personality and gorgeous hair. The other women here were stunning. Me? I was a glass-blower that normally sweated for eight hours a day and couldn't keep my bitchy comments to myself. Why pick me? The opportunity for 'blow' jokes based on my glassblower title? Maybe? Who could tell?

  The room seemed full of tension as we all waited for Jenni F to return. Small talk had stopped entirely, and even the waiters seemed to be tense, on hold for something. Leona's gaze was glued to the door.

  Minutes ticked past. Then, the double doors opened again and every head turned in that direction.

  Jenni F swanned down the steps, a floral corsage and name badge pinned to her shoulder. She was radiant and beaming from ear to ear. She gave the other girls a thumbs up. "He's hot!"

  Squeals of excitement erupted in the room. Chatter immediately started again. Leona gave me an excited look. "Wouldn't this be amazing if he turned out to be 'the one'?"

  I gave her a wry smile. I no longer believed in 'the one'. My 'one' had thrown me out on his doorstep when I'd chosen my career instead of being a stay-at-home girlfriend. I suddenly felt older than Leona, even though we were about the same age. She had her heart broken on a monthly basis by one man or another. I'd had my utter soul shattered years ago and never recovered.

  After something like that, you never regained your old optimism in fairy tales. But I didn't want to burst Leona's bubble, because I adore
d my friend. "Yeah, it'd be great if he was the right guy," I told her, carefully picking my words. She gave me a radiant smile in response, and I knew I'd made the right call. I gave her hand a squeeze. "If anyone deserves to meet Mr. Right, it's you," I told her, and meant it.

  "Leona," Lawrence called out.

  My friend gave me an excited look. She passed me her champagne glass, then hurried over to where the host was waiting. As I watched, he led her out of the room and shut the doors behind her.

  Well. I supposed I could go socialize with the other women. I looked over at one tall, waif-thin supermodel with amazing dark curls that surrounded her perfect face in a nimbus. She was smiling and listening to Jenni F gush about the bachelor's hair. Standing near her was the canary yellow viper.

  Maybe socializing was overrated.

  By the time Leona returned, I was bored out of my mind. Our warm champagnes had been cycled out by a nearby waiter, and the new glasses sat on the stone bench next to me, waiting. It wasn't fun to drink alone, after all, and I was more interested in hearing what Leona had to say than getting toasted. Finally, though, the double-doors opened again and she emerged, all smiles. She scanned the room for me, and then, spotting me, rushed over and grabbed my hands. "Oh my God, Juno. You are going to die when you meet this guy!"

  "Well then, I don't want to meet him," I told her, grinning at her happiness.

  "Har de har."

  I just laughed. "I'm glad you liked him, though."

  She plucked the champagne glasses from the seat next to me and shoved one in my hand, then sat down again. "I'm serious, Juno. This guy is a major catch. We talked for what felt like forever, and he was so nice, and funny, and polite. God, he was just totally dreamy." Leona got a soft smile on her face.

  "Then you can have him," I told her. "I mean it. I would love for you to snatch him up."

  She grinned at me and tucked a stray wisp of hair off my face. "If I don't get him, I want you to. I think you'll like him. He's just the kind you go for."

  "Oh? What kind is that?" Seeing as how I hadn't really gone for anyone in the last few years?

  "Tall, dark, gorgeous, and loaded. Isn't that the kind everyone goes for?" She wiggled her eyebrows at me.