Bianca’s painting was everything the others were not: lovely, intimate, and perfection in every brushstroke. The winner was obvious, as clear as day; even Alexis couldn’t deny it. Although she wanted to, she really wanted to. Because last night she had all but unraveled herself in front of Birdie and left a thread dangling between them that she was desperate to pick back up.
“Bianca,” Alexis said instead.
Bianca cheered, and then literally skipped over and hugged Alexis.
Then Vivian stepped forward and lost the bright smile on her face. She even drooped her head a little as she said, “Unfortunately, I am also the bearer of bad news. Tonight, we will have a lavender bouquet ceremony. And there won’t just be one contestant going home. There will be two.”
Everyone gasped, including Alexis.
Chapter Sixteen
Birdie hadn’t expected Kinley and Nina to go home. But then again, she hadn’t expected Bianca to win the art challenge either. How was it possible for someone to be both athletic and artistic? Where was the fairness in that?
“You know they’re probably kissing right now,” Louise said from the lounge chair. She was stretched out with dark sunglasses perched on her nose, staring at Birdie, who was sitting on the step with her legs in the sun. “The sunset is amazing,” she added, tilting her head toward the garden where the line between indoors and out was blurred by potted lemon trees with their leaves catching the honey-colored light.
Beyond, the pool glimmered with streaks of rose and gold. The row of clipped lavender buzzed with sleepy bees. The hedges were trimmed within an inch of their life, looking almost romantic in their amber glow.
Louise was right. The sunset was amazing.
Birdie’s voice shook when she asked, “What makes you think that?”
“I bumped into Bianca on the way out of the villa,” Louise replied, bouncing her ankle off the side of the chair. “She put on lipstick. Chanel Rouge Allure in Pirate. Said she only ever puts on that shade when she thinks she’ll get some action.”
The words hit Birdie so hard she nearly projectile vomited. “Has anyone else kissed Alexis yet?” Birdie asked, trying to sound breezy and casual, as though that exact question wasn’t keeping her up at night. It was one thing to imagine Alexis kissing another contestant, and a whole other thing to know it actually happened.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Louise said, eyebrows waggling. “You had that whole romantic horseback ride the other day. Did anything happen between the two of you? Some hand-holding or maybe a little kissing?”
Birdie shook her head. “Nothing,” she lied, though technically it wasn’t a lie because there hadn’t been any touching, and no kiss either. Well, not during the date at least. Just the night before, and two nights before that… and a few months ago in Portland. But Louise didn’t need to know that. In fact, Birdie hoped she would never find out. “We just talked.”
“Is that right?” Claire said, not quite believing her. Her eyebrows were too high and her mouth too pursed. “You just talked?”
“Yes,” Birdie said. She was feeling guilty. Very, very guilty. “We just talked.” Her voice was pitched way too high. It was the exact same pitch when she tried to tell TSA that she hadn’t over-packed her carry-on. “Can you even imagine kissing anyone in front of all the cameras?”
“Yes,” Louise said matter-of-factly. “We knew what we were signing up for. It’s part of the show, isn’t it?” She tilted her head in a way that gave Birdie the shivers. “I mean, are you seriously going to say no if Alexis wants to kiss you just because there are cameras around?”
Birdie couldn’t imagine saying no to Alexis. The answer would be yes, yes, yes. Which was why she felt a twinge of panic, because surely Bianca wouldn’t say no if Alexis leaned in. She wouldn’t pull away if Alexis brushed against her lips, wouldn’t hesitate even a second. The thought of that made Birdie want to combust right there under that glorious sunset, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ashes.
“I need a drink,” she muttered, already heading toward the living room. Preferably something with a high alcohol content to drown out those thoughts.
“Get me one too, will you?” Louise called when Birdie slipped through the open French doors. “Anything sweet, and don’t forget the ice.”
Birdie had just stepped past the cream sofa when Bianca glided into the living room.
“Hey,” she said, smiling. Her hair caught the last gold of the sunset streaming through the large double-hung windows.
Birdie hadn’t expected her back so soon, but then again, why not? It had been hours since she had left for the date. “Hey,” she managed, her voice a little tighter than she intended. She forced herself to sound normal. “It’s good to have you back.” Then she called over her shoulder toward the other girls, most of whom were still draped across lounge chairs on the deck. “Uh, hey everyone! Bianca’s back.”
The next few minutes would be a ritual interrogation.
“How was the date?” Birdie asked, studying Bianca’s face, scanning for the tiniest sign. Because surely if they’d kissed, there would be some hint of it, some softness around the eyes, or a smudge of lipstick or a lingering flush around her cheeks.
But there was nothing.
And yet, Birdie wasn’t entirely convinced.
“Amazing,” Bianca sighed dreamily, gliding toward one of the armchairs and practically melting into the cushions. “We drove out to this old stone chapel way up on a hill and then hiked a little further to a lookout spot.”
Before Birdie could process just how romantic that sounded—like straight out of a Nancy Meyers movie level romantic—the rest of the girls arrived. They each sauntered over to a sofa or a chair and sank into it with their eyes fixed on Bianca.
