Page 3 of Room 710 (The Scarlet Hotel #15)

Elijah

I shrugged off my suit jacket then yanked off my tie and tossed them both aside, before dropping down on the edge of the hotel bed with a weary sigh.

Right from the beginning, I knew this was going to be bad, but I simply hadn’t been prepared for just how much of a disaster I would be facing.

I tipped back on the mattress with a groan and rubbed my palms over my face, the day’s stubble like fine sandpaper.

I should’ve been working. I had at least an hour of audition footage to go through, but I couldn’t bring myself to dig into it just yet.

The bed was too comfortable and my limbs too heavy.

It was simply easier to lie here than not.

I’d withstood the meager crowd for as long as I could, smile painted on my face, all charm, but at some point, I’d started to wonder…

why bother? Lonely Alpha was a sinking ship, and I had no interest in going down with it.

We’d had a good run. Better than most reality shows these days. This season would be our tenth, but it would likely be our last. Especially after last season’s total dumpster fire…

To be fair, when we’d selected Leo Schuster as the alpha, we hadn’t known what an absolute douche he was.

He played pro football for the Comets, and he had that whole cocky athlete vibe going for him.

I thought it would make a good angle. Boy, was I wrong.

He antagonized the contestants, manipulating them all, and we ended up having to cut a lot of the footage.

That didn’t stop it from being leaked by one of the evicted contestants, though, and now I was the one paying the price. How was that fair?

Under normal circumstances, drama was a good thing, but who could’ve guessed there was a limit to what viewers wanted to see?

I wasn’t sure where the line was, but season nine had certainly crossed way over.

By the finale, when Schuster should’ve picked one of the remaining omegas to propose to, the two finalists had decided they would both reject him, instead proposing to each other.

I tried to spin it as the ultimate romance, rivals turned lovers, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

Viewers had decided to boycott the show, shouting on social media and fan forums about how alpha-centric society was, how omegas deserved better than to compete for some poor excuse for love.

And the worst part? They weren’t wrong. If anything, it should be alphas vying for a chance at an omega’s favor.

I was a firm believer that an omega should be cherished and respected—in theory, anyway.

It wasn’t like I’d found the right one to lavish attention on yet, and now in my mid-thirties, the chances of finding that One were narrowing fast.

Allowing myself one final sigh, I pushed myself up off the bed and headed toward the narrow desk set beneath the window.

Originally, I’d booked this room at The Scarlet Hotel because I’d hoped the open casting call would be so busy that I’d be working late.

Wishful thinking. It was barely 4pm, and I’d bailed early on the auditions because it was just too pitiful to watch.

We’d had thousands of people show up in previous years, but we probably didn’t even have 500 omegas to choose from this season.

I pulled out my laptop, and after bracing myself for the worst, I opened the cloud folder where all the audition footage had been stored.

Bethany, the sound engineer, and Marc, casting director and my right-hand man, were still downstairs in case any stragglers showed up, but I could easily get through all this footage by dinner time.

I would go down to the lounge and treat myself to a scotch.

Just ten minutes and three audition videos later, though, and I was second-guessing Lonely Alpha being renewed for another season.

Better make that scotch a double.

It was official. I was underwhelmed. Worse than that, I was bored .

My eyes burned from staring at the screen for so long, and more than once, I might’ve dozed off for a second.

I had 11 contestants chosen so far, but I really needed a full dozen.

Enough for three months of shows, with weekly eliminations, until we ended up with our final two at the end.

Back in those first seasons, I’d tried to keep things fresh by introducing wild card contestants halfway through, or allowing fans to vote on which eliminated contestant to bring back.

Sometimes we would have a week where no one was sent home, only to send two home the next week.

It kept things exciting, like anything was possible.

I’d even brought back favorites from previous seasons, if the fan forums were rabid enough.

Not this year, though. I was already taking a big enough risk on our alpha…

Devon Blake, Hollywood movie star and all-around heartthrob.

Rich, gorgeous, abs for days. He was exactly the right type of alpha for the show, except for one very huge difference—he had only recently come out as bi.

He’d acted with male love interests before, but in public, he’d always dated women, so this was his first foray into dating men—publicly, anyway.

I had no way of knowing if our viewers would be into it, but I figured why the hell not. Our ratings couldn’t get much lower.

“ I like animals and romantic walks on the beach ,” the omega on my screen said in a dreamy monotone.

I frowned. Haven’t I already watched this one?

Hard to tell for sure when they all said the same damn thing.

“Next!” I barked dramatically into the hotel room to wake myself up, clicking on the next video.

I was getting to the end of the line. If I didn’t find someone decent, I was just going to pick one at random and call it good.

As yet another blond-haired, blue-eyed model appeared on the screen, I brought my head down to thunk on the desk.

“Whyyyyy?” I moaned. It couldn’t just be me who was over all these Ken dolls, right?

I was so desperate for someone with… crooked teeth or a big nose, unruly hair.

Just something to make them stand apart.

Someone real .

Maybe I was being too picky. Gods knew I was particular when it came to my own dating life, but it was literally my job to fake it for the masses.

I had to make people believe that a happily ever after was possible in just three months, the kind of love that lasted a lifetime—or close enough, anyway.

Over the past nine seasons, six couples had gone on to tie the knot (two of which I’d been able to convince to televise), five of them had kids, and three of them were still together today.

Not bad odds for a relationship built around a public spectacle, if I said so myself.

So, how sad was it that I couldn’t find someone willing to date me off -screen.

Sure, I might’ve been a little demanding sometimes, a little…

intense, but I wasn’t a complete troll, and I had a lot of love to give to the right person.

Glancing at the time, I gritted my teeth, determined to wrap up these last videos so I could go get something to eat.

My stomach was threatening to devour itself.

I clicked the second-to-last video, fully expecting yet another plastic smile, so my jaw must’ve dropped when I came face to face with a slim man with short, dark wind-blown hair, narrow jaw, overlarge brown eyes beneath darker eyebrows, and a smattering of freckles.

I found myself drawn in by his earnest and open expression. There was nothing phony about this man.

“ And why do you think you should win? ” I heard Marc say off camera, making me realize I hadn’t even been paying attention to the beginning of the interview, mesmerized by him.

The man laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“ Oh, I don’t have a chance at winning. I mean, look at me .

” He gestured down his chest with a sweep of his hand, and my brows furrowed in a frown.

I couldn’t find a single thing wrong with what I saw.

There was something intoxicating about this young man.

He was boy-next-door meets swimsuit model.

Geek chic but without the glasses, and that laugh!

It was a whole damn symphony! I could already see the much-needed life he would bring to the set.

And when he smiled, I saw that his lower teeth overlapped a little, as if it were a sign.

Hadn’t I just been praying for crooked teeth?

His imperfection just made him even more perfect in my eyes.

I restarted the video from the beginning then propped my elbows on the edge of the desk and leaned closer, wishing the video was in 4K.

When the video started, it was clear that they’d already been in the middle of a conversation, caught halfway in a laugh, and that Marc was fully smitten with him.

Instead of the bland tone he’d had on the other interviews, he was more invested in this one.

Who could blame him? And I knew for sure our viewers would feel the same.

“ For the camera, please tell me your name, age, and a little about yourself ,” Marc said.

“ Sure. My name is Ziggy Goff, and I’m 21 years old.

Ziggy is short for Seigfried, but seriously, don’t call me that.

Ever .” He said it seriously, but there was a twitch at the corner of his bow-shaped lips.

“ Not much to say about myself. What you see is what you get .” I very much doubted that was true.

There was a glint in his eye that hinted at untold depths, and I felt a longing to plunge in and discover them for myself.

Marc laughed off-camera. “ Tell me, Ziggy, why did you decide to audition today? Is it a lifelong dream of yours to be on TV?”

Ziggy’s smile widened, forming a dimple on his right cheek. “ Would you believe it was a sign from the universe? No? Actually, I was just walking past the hotel and figured I had some time to kill before going to work .”

“ And where do you work?”

“ Just this little Italian restaurant down the block, Lorenzo’s. I work in the kitchen, making pasta and garlic bread, that kind of thing. The hours suck, but at least the pay is bad, ” he said with a cheeky grin, giving a little rimshot—“ Badum-ching .”

I found myself laughing right along with them, feeling included even from a distance. This, this was exactly what I was looking for.

“ What will your family think? If you get selected for the show, of course .” I caught the wording of Marc’s question, like he saw Ziggy as a sure thing. He knew what a prize Ziggy was too.

“ Not much family to speak of, it’s just me and my mom. But she’s super supportive of me, and she loves the show. She’d get a kick out of it, for sure .”

I watched the whole video three more times.

The camera loved him, there was no doubt.

He was so… wholesome. Raised by a single mother, working a regular job.

Not a model or a star athlete. He was relatable, didn’t take himself too seriously, all part of his appeal.

He could’ve been anyone, and that was what made him so perfect.

And the fact that he didn’t expect to win?

It was that modesty our viewers would tune in for.

I didn’t even bother watching the last audition video. My decision was made.

“And that makes 12.” My heart beat a little faster as I added Ziggy to the cast list. I had a good feeling about this.

I would bet good money that Ziggy was going to make it all the way to the finale.

I hoped he was ready for marriage, because there was a very good chance he would walk away from this with a proposal.

Sitting back in my chair, I blew out a long breath. This was it. A chance at redeeming Lonely Alpha ’s reputation, which in turn would save mine.

“Time for some dinner,” I said, pushing to my feet and arching my back in a stretch, spine cracking in a series of pops.

I didn’t head for the lounge like I’d planned, though.

Strangely enough, I was craving Italian for dinner.

I’d heard there was a great little place just down the block.

Maybe I could get a seat near the kitchen…