Free No Ordinary Love by J.J. Murray

girl. They always do . . .”
“He’s been saving the best for last. She’s the one he’s wanted all along. I’ll bet they already hooked up. I knew this show was rigged.”
     
    Maybe Mr. St. John is saving the brunette for last because she’s the worst of the bunch.
    The camera zoomed in on the airhead’s chest. Those are so unattractive. Maybe they stuffed those fake things with jumping beans. Are those silver dollar pancakes under there or what?
    “Miss Constance Carroll,” Mr. St. John said.
    Constance waved, and her breasts seemed to do the wave. “That’s me. Hi.”
    “I have never seen such an extensive curriculum vitae,” Mr. St. John said.
    “A what?” Constance asked.
    “You are incredibly well-educated, Miss Carroll,” Mr. St. John said. “Undergrad at Yale, graduated summa cum laude . . .”
    She probably spelled it “some come loud.”
    “. . . Harvard Medical, residency at Johns Hopkins,” Mr. St. John continued. “Served five years with the Peace Corps, two years with ‘Doctors Without Borders. ’”
    “Yeah,” Constance said, giggling. “Those doctors were fun.”
    TRUE!
    “And you’re currently a heart surgeon at . . .” Mr. St. John held the page closer to his eyes. “Ciders Sinus.”
    “I’m a bad speller,” Constance said. “It’s supposed to be Cedars-Sinai.” She giggled. “I love the field of medicine.”
    TRUE!
    She loves to take medicine.
    “Do you drink alcohol, use illegal drugs, or smoke cigarettes, Miss Carroll?” Mr. St. John asked.
    “Only occasionally,” Constance said.
    LIE!
    “In the first paragraph of the application you filled out,” Mr. St. John said, “in big bold letters, it says that I desire a woman who doesn’t drink to excess, use illegal drugs, or smoke.”
    “I’m not a very good reader either,” Constance said.
    TRUE!
    “Miss Carroll, have you been drinking, smoking, or using illegal substances while you’ve been in the mansion?” Mr. St. John asked.
    “No.”
    LIE!
    Mr. St. John sighed. “I’d like to show you what we recorded two hours ago.”
    The screen faded to black and lit up quickly with a split screen, a grand library inside the mansion on the right, and the very bouncy and lively Constance on the left. The camera in the video zoomed in on Constance reading a book.
    “Hey, there’s me,” Constance said. “Look at me reading.”
    “For the first time,” Trina whispered.
    In the video, Constance looked side to side then snorted a line of a powdery substance from the book. Then she shut the book, drank from a flask she took from her little purse, and lit up a cigarette.
    Well, at least she can multitask, Trina thought .
    The video faded out, and the split screen disappeared.
    “Miss Carroll, can you explain what you were doing?” Mr. St. John asked.
    “Well, I was nervous,” Constance said. “I had to get right, you know?”
    I avoid those substances to stay right, Trina thought .
    “Miss Carroll, did you really go to Harvard?” Mr. St. John asked.
    “No,” Constance said. “I only wrote that to get your attention.”
    TRUE!
    “And it worked!” Constance shouted. “Here I am on TV.” She waved at the camera and blew a kiss.
    “Miss Carroll, you lied about your education, your occupation, and you are currently under the influence of several controlled substances,” Mr. St. John said. “I cannot abide that in a wife. Good-bye, Miss Carroll.”
    “Okay.” Constance bounced up and wiggled all the way to the mansion.
    And then there was one.
    “Does this mean I win?” the last contestant asked.
    “Not necessarily, Miss Wolfe,” Mr. St. John said.
    “But I’m the last one,” Miss Wolfe said.
    “Humor me, Miss Wolfe,” Mr. St. John said. “I must follow the rules of the show.”
    As technicians attached the wires, Miss Wolfe said, “You can call me Sheena, Vincent.”
    “I shall,” Mr. St. John said. “Let’s see, Sheena, are you currently single?”
    “I am.”
    TRUE!
    “Have you ever