“No,” she said, not sure where he was going with this or what exactly a secretary bird even looked like. Did they wear a little suit and run the forest? But she didn’t have the energy to ask since she was using every last morsel of willpower trying notto march over to that semicircle of contestants and take back what she’d said the other night. “I haven’t.”
Themba took a minute before speaking. “The male soars into the sky, swooping up and down in a kind of pendulum-like flight. Sometimes the female will roll backward and flash her claws as a display of strength. On the ground, they dance.” He chuckled to himself, and Vivian wondered if he’d lied about what was in his jungle juice. “Wings out, crest feathers up, they chase each other. It’s as if they’re showing each other just how badly they want to be together. And when it works—it doesn’t always—they build a nest together. They mate for life.”
“Where are you going with this?” Vivian asked, frowning so deeply her forehead hurt.
But Themba didn’t answer right away. Which seemed to be his thing. Vivian, however, wanted fast, prompt responses. She hated waiting for people and their wistful silences.
Finally, Themba crossed one leg over the other, sending up a puff of dust from his boots. “You’re not the only one observing.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Vivian snapped before she could help herself. There was no need to get so worked up. But she couldn’t help it. She had an inkling of suspicion that Themba knew more than he let on. Butwhatdid he know?
“Nothing,” he said. “Unless you want it to mean something.”
Vivian’s patience was as thin as a piece of floss. She was just about to tell him to mind his fucking business, but then Sienna stood up, and as she stood up, she looked up, and as she looked up, she caught Vivian’s gaze.
For a second, they just stared at each other. Sienna’s hair was pulled back into a banana clip, and her off-white, creamy-colored shirt was rolled at the sleeves. Her jeans were dark with holes fashionably ripped at the knees. She looked beautiful.There was no way Vivian could tell her that, so she hoped to convey it with her eyes. But then Sienna’s eyes flicked away like she’d been zapped. She looked down at the dusty ground as she made her way to the drinks table and began fumbling with a bottle of Coke Zero. Vivian watched for a beat. She had every intention of doing nothing. Even considered calling it a night and heading back to her villa. But then, before her brain could say no, this was a bad idea, she jumped down from the Land Cruiser and moved toward Sienna like a fly to a leftover skilpadjie.
“Hi,” she said softly, reaching for the bottle of sparkling water on the table. Vivian didn’t like sparkling water, but it was safer than the still one sitting just beyond Sienna’s elbow. Reaching for that would mean leaning closer, and honestly, she wasn’t feeling that brave. “How are you?”
Sienna looked a little surprised. “Good,” she said, nodding. “This is probably one of my favorite dates so far. The afternoon has been completely perfect.”
Vivian cleared her throat. There was an apple-sized lump stuck in it. “You look like you’re finally enjoying yourself, getting into the spirit of things.”
“Is that a problem?” Sienna asked, tilting her head in a way that made Vivian’s ankles feel like jello. The spot on her forehead where Sienna had hurt herself was barely even visible now. It was just a thin scar under a thin layer of makeup.
“Of course not,” Vivian said, diverting her gaze to Sienna’s lips, which, frankly, was an even worse place to look than her lovely forehead. “I’m happy you’re connecting with the contestants.” Her voice cracked. She quickly took a sip of the sparkling water and instantly regretted it. The burn that shot through her nose made her eyes water. “That’s why you’re on the show, right? Isn’t the purpose to find someone special you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
“It is,” Sienna said. “I came here to fall in love, and hopefully I’m on the right track.”
Vivian wasn’t going to lie. That hurt. She could only assume that in the last four days, Sienna’s feelings for one of the contestants had grown. Based on what she’d seen this evening, Brooke had taken her attention. Blonde-haired, endlessly confident Brooke, who painted naked women and sold her work to high-rolling clients from Paris. Vivian had no idea what she actually painted; she just assumed it was naked women by the way she stared at Sienna like she wanted to immortalize her.
“Is Brooke—” But she couldn’t get the words out.
Not that Sienna needed Vivian to spell it out. It was obvious what she meant, as obvious as the sky was a dusty rose pink. Sienna looked Vivian dead in the eye and asked, “Are you jealous?”
“No, I don’t care that you’ve found a connection with one of the contestants. It’s why you are here,” Vivian replied. Too quickly. She whipped her head to the ground where a trail of ants marched single file around her black sneakers. She didn’t want Sienna to see the jealousy in her eyes. She didn’t want her to see that she cared. A lot. “I’m only asking because it’s my job to know what’s going on. I don’t just toss out a few lines at the start of every date, Sienna. I also report what I see, and what I see helps shape the flow of the entire show.”
Sienna stepped in close. “Is that really the reason you’re asking me that?” She was so close that Vivian could smell passionfruit and mint on her breath. Close enough that she could deduce the freckles on her nose were an infinite number.
“Yes,” Vivian said. A warm breeze picked up. It flicked a strand of hair from Sienna’s claw clip and sent it brushing across her cheek. Vivian’s fingers twitched before her brain could catch up. She tucked the strand behind Sienna’s ear, and then—holy hell, what had she just done—yanked her hand back so quicklyshe nearly stumbled. Heat crawled up her neck, her ears, even down to her toes.
She backed away. “Enjoy the braaibroodjies,” she muttered. Her voice was way too loud in her ears. “Apparently they’re magical.” The wind caught her short hair, whipped her shirt against her back, and she practically ran the last few steps to the Land Cruiser.
Themba was already in the driver’s seat, one elbow resting on the open window frame, the other drumming against the steering wheel. The engine purred loudly beneath him. He gave a quick clap to the doorframe and grinned. “Back to the villa?”
Vivian rounded the front of the vehicle and plopped into the seat next to him. Her heart was still thudding like a marching band. “Get me the hell out of here.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sienna was confused. The last time she’d felt this disoriented, she had been sitting in the back of a tuk-tuk in Bangladesh with sweat dripping down her neck, trying to decide whether or not to quit her travel blog. Back then, it had felt like the end of something, like her dream had expired, or at least a version of it she’d been clutching too tightly.
People just didn’t read anymore. At least not long stories about being stranded overnight in a tiny airport in Zanzibar, or that time when she had tried octopus skewers in Osaka and spent twelve hours bonding with a hotel bathroom. They wanted moments they could scroll past quickly and still feel something. They wanted to see a hundred different experiences in just a few swipes. So, Sienna had pivoted. She’d traded her blog for Instagram. Swapped her essays for snapshots and captions, and somewhere along the way, became something new. Something shinier. Louder. Easier to digest.
It hadn’t been easy. If anyone were to ask, Sienna would never sugarcoat it. There were days when she had wanted to give up. Months where she’d pretended she knew what she was doing—editing, posting, refreshing, deleting, reposting—all while wondering if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.
But eventually, the panic had dulled. The likes had come in, the brand deals had followed, and she’d stopped cringing every time she heard her voice on a story. She’d even forgotten what that panic felt like… until now.
Sienna looked down at the rose in her hand. The petals were glossy and impossibly red. If she took a photo of it, she wouldn’t even have to bump the saturation.
