If the Shoe Fits (Meant To Be #1) by Julie Murphy

Stacy smiles slowly, like a cat. “Let the games begin.”





Stacy was kind enough to do my makeup, which I appreciate, because that’s one thing I’ve never gotten into. Give me a tinted moisturizer and I’m good. However, I did come here with a clear vision of what I would wear to the first ball, and tonight is all about the shoes.

My shoes, Cindy originals from sophomore year, are a pair of strappy turquoise heels with matching feathers shooting up from the ankle strap and curving around the back of my ankle. It took me weeks to find the perfect feather and days to figure out the best way to attach each feather, but when the design finally matched the vision I’d dreamed up on my tablet, I wanted to strut around in these babies everywhere. They’re my ultimate confidence-boosting shoes, and tonight, I’m going to need every bit of confidence I can get.

For my dress, I’m in a Sierra original, an ivory midi gown she made last fall that hugs me all the way down to my mid-calves and has a high slit up the back. It doesn’t hide an inch and definitely makes it very clear what I’m working with. I figure if this guy is going to give me the boot on the first night, it’s probably because of my size, and if that’s the case, the sooner the better. The neckline is a deep square cut that gives me what Sierra always refers to as bar-wench cleavage, and the sleeves are a sheer mesh. The whole look is more “woman with an agenda” than “pageant contestant.”

“Whoa,” Stacy says as she zips me up, both of our reflections beaming back at us in the mirror. “This is like bombshell chic.”

Stacy wears a mustard-yellow silk gown with a high neck and deep V-cut back. It’s the exact right amount of sexy. And Sara Claire stuns in a jewel-encrusted hot-pink strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline.

“We’re hot and we’re ready for this dang ball!” Sara Claire says as she swings the door open.

The ball is another Before Midnight franchise staple. It’s basically a cocktail party held on the first night and then again before every elimination. On television, it appears to be elegant, with champagne fountains and ice sculptures. It’s also every contestant’s last chance to catch the suitor’s attention.

We step out into the hallway, and as we’re following the herd of women down the stairs, I think to ask, “Where’s Addison?”

A woman with a narrow nose that just barely lifts at its point says, “Oh, the producers came and got her and a few other girls to have their hair and makeup done by the crew.”

“What? I thought that was only for one-on-one dates,” someone else says.

The woman shrugs. “I guess the producers are already playing favorites.”

Sara Claire nudges me. “They’re just trying to get in our heads.”

“Who is?” I ask.

“The producers,” she says simply.

And it’s then that I’m reminded of the fact that no one here knows just how closely I’m tied to the brains behind this machine.

“The crazier we are, the more entertaining we are, and the more entertaining we are, the higher the ratings,” Sara Claire says as we walk out the front door and board golf carts that look like tiny minivans that take us past the front gates to where lines of tents are set up with rows of chairs.

I know everything she’s saying to be true in a theoretical way. I’ve heard Erica say countless things just like this on phone calls, but seeing the reality of it is…unsettling. It’s a side of Erica and her job that I knew existed but never thought I’d have to interact with.

“Ladies!” Beck says through a bullhorn. “Your seats are labeled. This is the order you will be going in. You’ll get in the white Rolls-Royce, and yes, she is our baby. A 1950 original. The car will take you through the gates, you’ll meet the suitor, and then head into the house, where the bar will be open to you. When we’re done filming out front, the suitor will come and mingle out in the courtyard. This is your time to get to know him before this evening’s elimination ceremony. Reminder: Some of you will be going home before lights-out tonight.”

Beside her, Wes crosses his arms and smirks. “Go big or go home,” he yells. “Literally!”

I glance around nervously, searching for Anna and Drew. I see them both sitting together in the second and third chairs beside Addison, who is wearing a gold lamé gown with a front and back so low it makes me nervous. Still, she looks like an actual goddess.

I wave to them, but they’re both nodding intently as Beck talks to them.

I find my seat down near the end, next to a woman with red curly hair and three oranges in her lap.

“I’m Judith,” she says as I sit down. “I juggle.”

“Cool,” I say, unsure what to make of that.

From years of watching this show and living with Erica, I know that intro night is a beloved fan favorite. There’s Twitter discourse, message boards, and even drinking games! (Drink every time a contestant introduces themselves with a pun the suitor doesn’t get!)

But the point is that the most memorable women on the first night receive the most camera time when they get the public talking. Of course, the decisions are always left to the suitor, though I can’t help but wonder how many of his decisions are influenced by producers pulling strings behind the scenes.