Wild Card

Chapter 3

Daniela

Ever since I left Seattle for Miami, and then from Miami to St.Lucia, everything seems surreal. Even getting on the boat that will take us directly to the front of Tyler's resort, the Aida, feels like I'm in a dream.

I wish I'd been able to get here earlier, but because I never had a passport before, there was a little wait to get one, even if the production company paid extra to rush it. Tiffany and Mom were so happy for me though the moment we got to the airport, they both broke down in tears. Even my third-grade students were all so excited to see me off, saying that the billionaire was sure to love me although I doubted it very much, not when the remaining four women are all better matches to Tyler Drake than I can ever be.

For one, he's quite outdoorsy. But then, who better to create a clothing line and accessories for the outdoors than someone who loved spending time there? Tiffany told me he'd trekked to a few of the world's highest mountains, like Kilimanjaro in Tanzania and Mount Khuiten in Mongolia. He almost died while climbing Annapurna in Nepal when an avalanche hit their climbing party, killing 13 other people on the mountain. He would have climbed Mount Everest this year, but his family—his mother specifically—had finally said no. That little fact—him acquiescing to his mother's request—made him more human to me because until then, he just seemed too good to be true.

I know my wheelchair—or rather, the fact, that I am in one—is a huge deal to them. No one had expected a disabled person to enter the Wild Card contest, much less, win. It meant that the production had to make sure that everything I touched was compliant with the American with Disabilities Act or ADA, even if technically, we'd be outside the US for most of the show.

I bet she'll be sent home as soon as he sees her, I overhear one of the production assistants say on the boat before someone shushes her. I could have said something, but I don't see the point. I'm happy to be out of Seattle for a while, enjoying the feel of the sun against my face and hoping Tiffany packed enough sunscreen for me. Ever since I woke up on a hospital bed three years ago unable to feel my legs, I haven't traveled much, not even if I wanted to.

I used to swim, hike, rock climb and ride my bike along trails. And while I can't do most things anymore without my wheelchair, or Tiffany coming up with ways to make going places easier for me—like the addition of the big wheel—I've gotten used to it.

At least, one thing hasn't changed too much; I still swim every week like I used to. It amazes people to see me at the city pool, my wheelchair parked right next to my lane as I transfer myself to the edge of the pool, adjust my swim cap and then slide into the water. It's certainly helped increase swimming lesson attendance during the summers when children see that I don't let my useless legs deter me from swimming laps. I can't wait to test the waters of Saint Lucia the moment I get settled in my suite.

After the boat docks and I wheel myself down the ramp, to say I'm not nervous would be a flat-out lie. I am. I can feel everyone's eyes on me, as well as cameras that have been filming me two days after my name was picked on national television. I've had a crew of four people tagging along with me the entire time since, but I don't even notice them anymore.

Archer Mann meets me the moment my chair rolls onto the dock. When he offers to push my chair, I tell him, no, thanks. He's curious about the big wheel attachment in front of my legs which I can easily remove if I'm on even surfaces, adding that Tyler will certainly be asking me about it. I tell him that it helps me maneuver my chair through uneven terrain.

When I see two men approach us in the distance, I know right away that the tall one is Tyler Drake. In the flesh, he is gorgeous, with his broad smile and a definite twinkle in his eye as he introduces himself, leaning forward to give me a big hug. I can see why women would fight over him. I'd fight for him, too if I knew I had a chance.

"This is such a cool chair. I love the addition of the big wheel," Tyler says after our introductions and we're making our way to the resort entrance.

"Thanks. My sister designed it. She's only sixteen, but I'm sure one day she'll be an inventor."

He looks at me in surprise. "Is this her prototype? I hope she's patented this."

"Never even occurred to us. Should we have?" I say before a blond man with a hook nose appears in front of me and introduces himself as Les Wiltern, the show host. 

He stops and frowns, before ordering the camera people to stop filming and beckons for someone to come over and literally powder my nose.  Then telling Tyler that our time is up, Les beckons me to follow him to one of the gazebos for the interview.