“Ladies!” he greets as he slides inside. “How’s it going in here?”
They’ve all had another two hours’ worth of limo champagne fed to them by their new handler, Kennedy, who looks slightly shell-shocked by their sudden, unexpected promotion. The women hoot and holler in response. They seem to be in the middle of a dance party. Dev briefly mourns the fact that he’s not going to be spending the next nine weeks with these amazing women. “Sorry I abandoned y’all, but they’ve got me working with your Prince Charming. He’s a little bit nervous about meeting so many beautiful women.”
A collective aww ripples through the limo. Perfect. “I think he needs y’all to help him loosen up.”
Dev turns to Angie Griffin, the medical student, and the next woman out of the carriage. Angie has a beautiful, heart-shaped face framed by a pretty Afro and bearing a mischievous smile, which suggests she’s the perfect candidate for loosening up their tech nerd.
“Here’s what I’m thinking: Angie, what if you go out there and get him dancing a little bit?” Dev shimmies his shoulders demonstratively.
Angie appears to weigh the risk of potential humiliation on national television against the thrill of dancing with Charles Winshaw and slams back the rest of her limo champagne. “Let’s do it!” she says excitedly, and Dev knows it will be perfect. That part is done.
He climbs back out of the limo and jogs back to Charles for part two.
“I’m going to touch you again,” Dev warns, and good Lord—Charles blushes as Dev reaches up and adjusts his blond curls beneath the crown. Dev can’t imagine how he’s going to survive nine weeks of being groped by the women. “Okay. I need you to turn it on now.”
“Turn it on?” Charles repeats each word slowly, turning them over on his tongue. Dev watches his mouth puzzle it out, watches him press his tongue against the back of his very white, very straight teeth. Dev gently reminds himself to stop staring at this man’s mouth.
“Yes. Become the cologne ad guy. Whatever you used to do when you had to perform in front of crowds at WinHan. Turn it on.”
The expression on Charles’s face would be comical if it weren’t so thoroughly pathetic, and if this man weren’t at risk of ruining their entire show. “You can do this,” Dev says without evidence or proof that he can. But he’s good at putting faith in things other people are quick to dismiss. “I believe in you.”
Dev slides back out of the cameras’ view.
When Angie comes out of the carriage a few minutes later, she sambas over to him, and Charles doesn’t look repulsed when he sees her. He lets Angie put her hands on his hips and tango him around the courtyard, and he smiles genuinely for the cameras. It’s reality television gold. Skylar sounds pleased in Dev’s earpiece.
After that, Charles relaxes more with each woman he meets. When the contestants make bold choices for their entrances, like coming out in a kangaroo costume because they’re Australian or wearing a pregnant belly because they want to be the mother of his children, he takes it all in stride. He makes it through all twenty carriage exits without vomiting again, and everyone is impressed with Dev’s coaching, because apparently that is where they’ve set the bar.
“You’re doing fucking spectacular!” Dev tells him as the cameras get ready to move inside for Charles’s welcome speech to the gathered women. Charles blushes and smiles down at his feet in response, like this is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him.
Dev temporarily worries this is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to Charles Winshaw. He swoops in to adjust Charles’s hair. “So, based on first impressions, which of the women would you describe as your type?”
Charles arches away from Dev’s fingers. “Uh, none?”
Annoyance spikes in Dev’s chest. “What about Daphne? You’re both shy and a little… awkward.”