Page 17 of Most Eligible
The whole court is deadly silent, and then Norbert, holding a defibrillator, bursts through the gate and skids to his knees in front of me.
“STAND CLEAR! ON THREE,” he bellows, brandishing the paddles like a shield. “ONE, TWO—”
“I’m okay!” I wheeze. “I don’t need that!”
Norbert looks skeptically at me, then shuts off the defibrillator. “If you say so, lass. But I’m keeping it at the ready just in case.”
The other producers flock in like birds, and Lainey directs the cameraman to get a close-up of my sweaty face. I grimace and push the camera away, but it just looms closer, so I flop back, trying to play dead.
“Nina,” Lainey says. “Help her up. Someone get her a towel!” She snaps her fingers and as Nina helps me to my feet, a towel is thrust into my shaking hands.
“You okay?” Nina asks quietly. We both know why they wanted her to pick me up. She’s The Mom of the group after all. But her question is genuine.
“Yeah,” I say. “Just a bit dizzy.” I try to laugh it off but start coughing instead.
“Let’s go again,” Lainey yells. “Everyone back into positions. Georgia, get back on the ground. I want to get a good shot of you and Roland.”
“What do you—” I stop myself. Of course. They need another shot of me literally eating grass. Feeling incredibly silly, I lie back down and put my arm over my head in a near-dead sort of way.
“Action!” Lainey barks, and Roland rushes over to me.
“Georgia, are you okay?” He drops to the ground and pulls me into his arms. “Are you hurt?”
“Fine, fine, yeah,” I mutter.
He lifts me to my feet—those biceps aren’t just for show—and I brush myself off. Lainey is eyeing us carefully, so I really commit to the bit, leaning into Roland’s side, pressing my cheek to his chest. I wish he smelled like sunshine and daisies or something sexy and masculine, but he smells like sweat and a body spray I thought people stopped wearing in middle school.
I’ve become the Damsel in Distress, letting Roland pick me up like a knight in shining armor. Not the worst look, but not what I was going for.
He rubs my back, murmuring something unintelligible into my hair. When this is on TV, I wonder what viewers will think he’s saying. Will there be a made-up subtitle? Something like:Georgia, my love, are you hurt? Will this affect your ability to bear my children?
“Roland,” Lainey says, “Why don’t we do a quick interview while Georgia catches her breath.”
Nervously eyeing Norbert and his defibrillator, I shuffle off to the side and grab an ice pack for my face from a PA.
“Tell us how you felt when Georgia fainted,” Lainey prompts. I gape at her.Fainted?Is that what we’re calling intentional sabotageby tennis ball? My eyes stray to Addison, but she’s too busy inspecting her cuticles to care.
Roland nods, psyching himself up for an emotional moment. “When Georgia fainted, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. It was like time stopped. I needed to make sure she was okay.”
I stare at him in disbelief, the ice pack numbing my face. On the side of the court, someone snorts. I look over to see Olie rolling her eyes. She winks at me and puts a hand over her heart.
“Okay, now you,” Lainey says, fixing me with her hawk-like gaze. A camera man waddles over to me and points the lens directly at my face. Norbert inches forward with the defibrillator. I wouldn’t put it past him to zap me even while I’m fully conscious. I drop the ice pack to the bench beside me and try to look more alert.
“What were you thinking about when you fainted?” Lainey asks.
I weigh my options, since clearly we aren’t going to play up the Georgia-was-attacked-by-Addison angle.
I shrug. “I wasn’t really thinking about anything, it just happened.”
“That’s it?” Lainey says.
“Um,” I mumble, eyeing the defibrillator. I don’t know what she wants from me. If she wants me to accuse Addison, then why would she say I fainted?
“Norbert,” Lainey snaps. “Get out of here with that thing. You’re making her nervous.”
Chastened, Norbert retreats to the sidelines.
“Right,” Lainey says. “Let’s try that again, okay? Tell us how you felt when you fainted.”
