been distracted. But you will be perfect! Sensible, straightforward, practical Brooky.’ Maddy’s animated face softened and she came out from behind her desk to put her arms out. ‘Think about it. How much would we have to pay to advertise on prime time TV every night for three months?’
Brooke didn’t care about the free advertising this show would expose their gym gear to. She couldn’t think about marketing opportunities and how well-known their brand might be if she managed to get their products on the screen. All she could think of was the potential humiliation. When all those millions of people watching realised how bad she was at relationships and love and flirting and all the other rubbish that was sure to happen on this ridiculous show.
Brooke breathed in, then out. That familiar feeling crept over her. She knew what it was and she breathed through it, just as Maddy had taught her all those years ago. She wasn’t going to get angry. She was going to explain herself rationally and clearly. Brooke released the fist her hand had formed. Her palm hurt where her fingernails had dug in.
‘Thousands, Brooky!’
Maddy threw her arms around her sister and hugged her hard. The hug helped. Brooke felt her sister’s love as she let go and held on to Brooke’s shoulders.
‘You know that because we checked. And we checked because the brand needs help, Brooke. Major help. Think about how many people will be watching you. Think about all those lonely, desperate women out there, watching you night after night as a handsome man falls in love with you. They’ll be listening to every word you say—and looking at everything you wear. Everything. Including your clothes. They’ll want to be like you, work out like you, dress like you so they can find the man of their dreams too.’
Maddy was doing what she always did to calm Brooke down. Giving her rational arguments. Explaining things. Talking to her until Brooke started to breathe normally again.
‘Maddy...’ Brooke started, her voice normal again. ‘You’re crazy. That’s an awfully long shot.’
‘It’s perfect PR—you even said it yourself at the marketing pow-wow last month. You don’t have to tell anyone to buy our products—you just show them how fabulous they look and how well they work and be your amazing self and they will sell themselves.’
Maddy was really working overtime. Brooke could tell she was passionate about this, and she could also tell her sister was working hard to get her excited. But Brooke wasn’t buying it.
‘Maddy! Listen to yourself. This is ridiculous!’
‘No, it’s not.’ Maddy said, her voice calm, strong and matter-of-fact. ‘It’s genius. I’m a genius. Wright Sports is poised for world domination, little sister.’
‘You’re not a genius—you’re a madwoman. First of all, if you want someone to model the clothes to make women aspire to be like them, you should have chosen Melissa. She’s the long-legged, big-boobed beauty in the family. Or even Melody—she’s cute and perky and blonde and fun! I’m short and I have a forgettable face and my mouth is too wide.’
Maddy attempted to interject but Brooke held up a hand.
‘I don’t need you to compliment me, Maddy, which I know you were going to do. I’m just stating facts here. And reason number two why this plan is absolutely bonkers: women will only aspire to be like me if I successfully seduce a man. Which I won’t. I can’t flirt, I’m awkward and boring, and I am really bad at competing. I’m the only one in this family who hasn’t won a gold medal in something. And even if I don’t fail every challenge I’m sure my appointed “perfect match” will probably kill me in my sleep. You’ve got the wrong girl, Maddy. Me being me will do more damage to the brand than good.’
‘Why do you do that, Brooky?’ Maddy asked gently.
Brooke bristled. ‘I’m not doing anything besides telling you what a terrible idea this is.’
‘Brooke, you’re beautiful and talented and fabulous. You’ll win every challenge and your perfect match will fall for you—just like the entire country will when they see you on the telly. You’re exactly the right girl. I knew you’d get it—why do you think I made you come along with me?’
‘Maddy, I don’t need any of your motivational nonsense right now.’
‘It’s not motivational nonsense. As a matter of fact...’ Maddy moved away to go back behind her desk. She drew herself up to her full five foot nine and stared straight at her little sister. ‘I think this will be good for you. You need to put yourself out there. It’s time you got yourself a man.’
Brooke rolled her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard this lecture. Her four sisters were always telling her she needed to go out more, be more social—meet new people. But the truth was she liked being alone. It was safer that way. She liked her quiet nights in and she didn’t need a man bothering her with his opinions and demands...and his lies and broken promises.
‘I don’t want a man, Maddy.’
‘Brooke. It’s time you got over Mitch. It’s been twelve months.’
Brooke felt the familiar burn of tears in the backs of her eyes. Mitch. Even the sound of his name felt like sandpaper rubbing on foam.
‘I’m over him, Maddy.’ She heard her voice go quiet. She wished it hadn’t. She didn’t want her sisters to worry about her. She was over Mitch. Of course she was. Why wouldn’t she be? Like Maddy said—it had been twelve months.
Something caught in Brooke’s throat. Twelve months since she’d decided not to put up with another one of his lies. Twelve months of thinking about all the things she’d say to him if she ever saw him. Something hurt in Brooke’s chest. She wasn’t in love with Mitch any more, but the anger about what he’d done was still there. She’d tried everything—yoga, meditation, drinking some disgusting concoction Melody called ‘calm juice’—but the feeling was still there. A hard ball of anger she couldn’t seem to shake.
‘It’s clear you’re not, Brooke. You don’t go out; you don’t want to meet anyone new. You just sit at home listening to sad music or working out like a demon. Honestly, babe, we’re worried about you. You need this. More than me. More than the brand. You need to do something to break you out of this rut.’
Brooke breathed out heavily. She was in a rut. It was true. But she was happy in her rut. Happy to push herself to her limits at the family-owned gym and happy to work herself ragged as marketing manager for her family’s company.
She excelled at her job. It was the only time she’d ever been close to competing with her sisters. Micky, the second oldest, was the country’s leading female equestrian at only twenty, Melody was in line to join their sister Melissa at the next Commonwealth Games, while Maddy, the most successful of all, was a former gold medallist.
Brooke had just achieved her personal best number of pull-ups in a row at the gym. Five. Pathetic. At only four foot nine, and barely fifty-two kilograms, Brooke was smaller, weaker and so much less remarkable than her sisters. But she was very good at data and statistics and predicting trends.
Since leaving school six years ago she’d managed to help Maddy take their company from a fledgling gym and activewear business to an award-winning national brand, with seventeen retail stores across the country and a dozen new lines ranging from home workout gear to protein powders. But times were tough. Money was tight. And to move to the next level—which they’d all decided it was time for—they needed to up their game.
Publicity. Recognition. That was what they needed. Brooke knew it. But they’d planned for Maddy to get on to this stupid TV programme—Brooke had gone there for moral support and some sort of pathetic back-up on the off-chance Maddy didn’t get it. Brooke hadn’t doubted for a second that Maddy would get in. Maddy always won everything... Except this time.
And now, in some cruel, unexpected twist of fate, Brooke was expected to expose herself on a reality show based on the ridiculous premise that there was a Perfect Match out there for everyone.