35. Thirty-Five
thirty-five
ELLIOT
If I have to join my life with a stranger’s for the next six months, there are worse strangers to look at. Hannah is an extraordinary natural beauty with long, dark, red hair, a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and captivating green eyes. But she isn’t for me. I’m not for her. And it ends tonight.
Kat has neither assured me she’s spoken to Ginger, nor has she done anything to fix the mess we made. I didn’t act alone in this, but I accept responsibility for not following my heart where it was leading me in the first place. However, when I’m in the mood to share the blame, Michelle is my first target.
But if the producers stayed out of it, Cassie would have solved the problem, and everyone would have left relatively unscathed. But, no. They want her for next season. I no longer have any option but to quit.
Unfortunately, without my phone, I’ve been unable to protect any money I saved or contact a lawyer, but if they choose to take this all the way through court, they’ll have a lot of explaining to do on their end as well. If the network doesn’t want all their dirty laundry aired publicly, it’s in their best interest to settle out of court for a reasonable amount.
I have no problem paying a price for my role in this mess, but I don’t deserve financial ruin. I’ll complete the show. I’ll listen as The Panel extolls the virtues of Hannah Carter, and I’ll nod my head and act like I’m on board until the last possible moment.
And then I’ll walk, like I should have done weeks ago after Ginger slid onto my lap in that limousine.
But first, on the morning of the finale, I have to sit through a session with Lavonne, a Matched ritual, and act like I don’t know what a rigged job it is.
Expecting the therapist to arrive with a full crew, I answer the knock on the guesthouse door, dressed and clean-shaven. Kat stands alone on the front steps.
“You,” I say.
“Can we talk?”
I step away from the door, widening the opening to let her inside. She glances around, like she’s making sure we’re alone, even up at the ceiling where, in the Hacienda, there are always cameras rolling. But as far as I know, the guesthouse is completely private. Now I frown, questioning everything again.
“I talked to Ginger.”
“And?”
She sighs heavily. “She wouldn’t give me a lot. She’s still pretty upset about, you know, not having a job and stuff. We’re planning a girls’ weekend after all this. I might be able to get her to open up a little more.”
None of this is relevant. “Does she want me to finish the show?”
“We all want you to finish the show, Elliot. No one wants anyone else to get hurt.”
“You don’t seem to give a shit if Hannah does.”
“Hannah’s tougher than she looks,” Kat says. “You make her nervous, but she’ll be fine if?—”
“If what?”
“If things don’t work out for you after the finale.”
“What about Ginger?” I ask. “How are things going to work between us after the finale?”
“What do you mean?”
“You made it sound like you’d figure something out?—”
“Yeah. After the finale.” Kat makes a sweeping gesture toward the main house. “Do you have any idea how busy I’ve been? Between visiting Hannah’s hometown and Daisy’s? Cutting the packages for the finale? Getting the Hacienda ready after we were gone for two weeks? I haven’t had time to come up for air.”
“You did talk to her, didn’t you?” I don’t believe a word these people say anymore.
But her expression is completely sincere when she nods and says, “I did. I didn’t get very far.”
“She’ll never want to see me again after this.” I sit on the edge of the bed, landing heavily.
“You know Ginger. She’s not a big fan of strong feelings. I think her first instinct is always going to be to put her guard up. But if you go through with this, I swear to God, I’ll keep working on her. It might take some time, and honestly, some distance from the show.”
It isn’t an unreasonable request. But it’s not enough.
I’m not going to spend the next six months waiting for Kat to solve a problem I can solve by walking away. But I also don’t want to get anyone else in trouble or fired. If Kat gets me to the finale, and I go through the motions of filming the entire episode, her job should be safe. After all, no one could have expected her or Matt or anyone to control a star who’s proven himself time and time again to be volatile and unpredictable. Her job should be spared, and I’ll bear the consequences.
“What time do I need to be ready?”
“Filming starts at four. I’ll need you up at the main house by three.”
“Any chance I could have my phone back?”
“Just get through tonight, Elliot.”
GINGER
If I didn’t have a job interview, I would stay in bed all day, hiding from the world and wallowing in the depressing knowledge that yesterday Elliot picked his future wife.
Instead, I’m combatting memories of him that spread throughout my entire house, even the bathroom where I’m trying to make myself look presentable for a perfect stranger.
I have to move. ASAP. After two weeks of being home, the images of Elliot in my house have faded not one bit. If anything, he’s become a ghost-like presence—performing actions he never performed here. I even thought he made the bed one day before I found the note my cleaning service left while I was at the grocery store.
My thoughts are getting out of hand. So much so, I signed up on three dating websites and nightly have been on the hunt for a man to fall for the way I stupidly went and fell for Elliot.
No luck so far. Other men still pale in comparison, but maybe it’s too soon. Surely one day I’ll stop holding everyone else up to Elliot Hale’s impossible standard of sexy beautiful. He’s out there—the right one for me. I’ll keep looking and remember never to settle. It isn’t like there’s a clock ticking somewhere inside me. I’ll wait until it seems like a better idea.
Locating my keys in my bag, I take them out along with my sunglasses. My phone rings from the counter, which is good, because I was about to walk out of the house without it.
Kat again. She’s instituted daily check-ins.
“I’m fine,” I answer. “I have an interview.”
“Oh, good. Where at?”
“HBO.”
“Oh my God!”
“Yeah—so...”
Kat interrupts. “Well, I was calling to check in, but I also need a huge favor.”
I make a face. “What?”
“Elliot’s phone. I looked all through the offices. You still have it?”
I take a deep breath, pulling deeply on the air of my small living room to give myself the strength to consider the answer to that question. “Yes.”
“Well...before we filmed the finale last night, he asked me about it, and...well...”
“Is he still in town?” I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
“Not for long, so...can you drop it by the Hacienda? After your interview, I mean.”
“He’s not still in the guesthouse, is he?”
“No! Of course not. Ginger, I would never... We’re cleaning up, getting things squared away. Matt was planning to take Elliot to the airport from his hotel later, and he’ll get the phone back to him. I’d leave and come grab it from you, but it sounds like you’re on the way out the door.”
Fuck it. “I can bring it.” The Hacienda is the last place in the world I want to be, but I remember how hectic the day after the season ends can be. So many moving parts to manage. Besides, my favorite Stanley is still in the control room.
Kat sighs with obvious relief. “What time do you think?”
“Depends on the interview and traffic. Five? Is that too late?”
“It’s cutting it close, but we’ll make it work. Thanks, Ginj. See you then. Dress nice and we’ll go grab drinks after.”
That’s an offer I can’t refuse. “Sounds good.”
“Good luck with your interview! I’ll give you an amazing reference!”
I hang up and consider my outfit—whether it’s “going out for drinks” worthy. It reads more uptight—a plain white blouse and wide-legged black slacks—but it isn’t hideous. The pants are expensive. Anyway, it’s not like I’m planning some big hookup at a bar.
Stopping by my desk, I open the drawer and pull out Elliot’s iPhone, smirking briefly at the memory of his reaction when I presented him with his burner three months ago. But my smile fades fast as my gaze falls on his Swiss Army knife.
Such bad luck. I tried to tell him, didn’t I?
I pick it up and put in into my bag along with his phone.
Letting go of him still hurts, but I’m moving on, like he is. I’m no closer to winning an Emmy, but I’ve stopped regretting everything that happened between us. It was worth it. Worth it to discover my job isn’t what defines me. It was worth it to let my guard down for once. And it was worth it to fall in love, even with an impossible fantasy. It’s nice to know things like that happen, even if they aren’t always meant to last.
ELLIOT
I sit before The Panel as a compilation of my greatest hits with Hannah plays on the large screen above their heads. It’s harder to watch than I expected. I barely remember any of the moments the camera captured, but if anyone bothered to ask, I could describe with scary accuracy where Ginger was standing on each of the shoots, what she said to me beforehand, and the questions she asked in the interviews we filmed afterward. Ginger is everywhere in those locations, but absent from the screen, from my options, my life.
As the montage comes to an end, I shift my attention to The Panel.
Lavonne slides her glasses down her nose. “I’ve always enjoyed the way you two work together in the challenges. You have a genuine affection for one another.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I’m unable to speak. I’m trying to pick my moment to stand up and walk out, not wanting it to be even a fraction as dramatic as Jenna’s last stand in Paris.
My mother speaks up. “We know from talking with Hannah she’s ready to have children right away. How do you feel about that?”
Running my palms down the arms of my chair, the nervous energy inside me swirls, transforming itself to dread. “You know I want kids.”
“Are you able to see yourself starting a family soon, though?” Michelle asks.
I’ve tried to avoid her probing stare since I walked into the room, but I find myself eye-to-eye with it now. It’s as intrusive as expected.
“Whatever,” I mutter.
“Look,” Natalie pipes up. “We’re here trying to decide between two incredible women—both of whom I can absolutely see you with. Hannah and Daisy. I want to hear from you what you think is missing with Hannah first, and Daisy second.”
A beautiful photograph of Hannah appears on the screen. If I’d seen her at a party a year ago—before Ginger, before Jenna—I probably would have turned over tables to get to her. We wouldn’t have talked much. I would have been on a mission to get her into bed. But I know myself better now.
“I think I make her nervous in a way I don’t know how to fix.”
“Do you think counseling would help iron out some of the trust issues in your relationship?”
“I guess it could,” I say to Lavonne. But I’d have to want it to. The desire for anything more with Hannah doesn’t exist. We’ve gone as far as I want to go.
“From what Hannah’s told us, it sounds like you’re exactly right. She is reluctant to trust, especially in an environment like this. However, we have discussed, and we do feel that once she’s more sure about your relationship, she’d open up. Do you feel that’s too little, too late?”
“What makes you think she could be the one? Maybe that’s a better question.”
Natalie gets that dreamy look in her eyes I’ve grown to dread. “She’s been a bit of a dark horse, don’t you think? I like the fact that she’s made it this far. I had no idea you’d even taken the time to notice her. Our focus has been on other things, but when you saved her last week, I was glad. You and Daisy sometimes act like two pals, you know? But you’re sweet with Hannah.”
Reticent, I itch to rise from his seat. Hannah will be hurt. I’ll be hurting one more person in this process. First Cassie, then Ginger, Jenna—now Daisy and Hannah. If there’s a worse man in the world, I hope I never have to meet him.
The slide switches, changing the image in front of me.
A side-by-side of Daisy and Hannah. The image of the two of them smiling, staring back at me, hits me with the force of a blunt object. I can’t breathe. “I need a minute.” Standing abruptly, I head for the door.
Behind me, the murmur of The Panel fills the sudden silence following my departure. Kat catches up with me as I make my way toward the nearest exit.
“I said I need a minute,” I snap, even as Kat closes in. I’ve gotten as far as the main living area, within feet of the patio door.
“And I need to make sure you stay on the grounds.”
“I can’t do this!” I explode. The words have been on the tip of my tongue for days, but I can’t hold them in anymore. I roar them now—loud enough for someone to finally hear me. “So I guess I’m fucked, right? I won’t put either one of those women through a lie for a goddamn television show. I can’t do that.”
“Well, I can’t have you walking out right now, Elliot. Look. You’re not the first person to freak out at this point. Brandon’s freak-out was legendary. And Jenna—oh my God, she was a mess on her decision day. She was about to walk, too.”
“Yeah, and look what happened to her.”
“Do you want a drink? Let’s have a drink.”
Kat walks into the kitchen and helps herself to the liquor cabinet, pouring a dark whiskey into two glasses and handing one over to me. She checks her watch and glances at the patio door.
I hate whiskey, but I’ll deal. I down the syrupy liquid in one swallow and hold out my glass for another. “I’m gonna walk, Kat.”
“You’re ready to ruin your life for a woman who left you in Paris?”
“It’s not just for her. It’s for Daisy and Hannah. I can’t do this. I won’t lead either one of them on?—”
“You signed a contract.” Her second pour is more generous. “Just sip it,” she suggests. “Either way this ends up, you still have to go back on camera.”
The delayed ripple effect of the alcohol sends a shiver down my spine. It works to take the edge off the moment, giving me the necessary courage. “It’s not like no one’s ever walked away from a reality show before.”
Kat gives me a warning look. “No one’s ever walked away from this one. I’ll be honest with you, Elliot. I don’t know what Marlon’s gonna do, not to mention the people over him. We wanted you. Specifically.”
I set the shot glass down. The sound of glass hitting marble grates. Life as I know it is about to be over, but all I can think is fuck it . It isn’t that great anyway. “I know.”
“Do you realize how much went into selecting the women who ended up getting a chance to be with you?”
“I’m sure it was a lot of time and a lot of effort.”
“And money , Elliot. It was a shit ton of money. More than you have, frankly.”
“So I’ll go broke.” I wish the idea of that didn’t bother me so much. I wish I came from a family with deep pockets where my decisions—bad or good—didn’t make much of a difference to my bottom line. But they don’t put people on this show who have nothing to lose. Maybe that’s another reason why it works. Because the second you walk on set you’re handcuffed to a happy ending.
“You don’t still think you’ve got a chance with Ginger, do you?”
I stare into my drink. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is I love her. I came here specifically not to fall for someone, and it’s exactly what I did. I guess I wasn’t ready to be practical. I still want to have it all, and I fucked up. So I’ll pay the price, but I’m not gonna drag some other woman into it. I could never be with either of them. Not the way they deserve.”
Kat heaves a long-suffering sigh. “I guess it’s time to tell The Panel that you dragged them all into this for nothing.”
“Thanks for the support, Kat. Again.”
She takes a step closer to me, meeting my eyes. Her tone is softer, but her words remain on brand. “I appreciate that you love my friend. I think you’re stupid, but I respect you for following your heart or whatever. Obviously, I can’t get the last three months of my life back, but God forbid you do something that goes against your feelings .”
I ignore her commentary, finishing my second drink. It won’t be enough to make me slur my words, but it’s enough to give me the balls to do what I need to do: walk away and pay the price.
It’s also enough to make the door to The Panel’s room open with a resounding bang. That’s an accident, though. “Sorry,” I mumble as I walk back to my seat.
Lavonne picks up her pen. “Are you all right, Elliot?”
“I have something to say.”
My mother clears her throat, waving a hand to get my attention. “You’ve had your moment, honey, I’d like to say something now.”
I open my mouth to speak, determined to maintain my thunder, but she cuts me off.
“You came here—with us —asking for help to find the future you’ve been dreaming of.”
“It’s how the show works, Mom.”
She shrugs off my bitter tone. “For weeks you’ve alternately thrown yourself into this and resisted it with everything you’ve got. We wanted you to find love. Not just a partner, not just a cosigner on a home loan—but a love to carry you through the ups and downs of a life lived to its fullest. We think you deserve that.”
“Can I talk?”
“Not yet?—”
“Mom, I can’t do this.”
She blinks, a slight frown on her face.
Natalie sits straighter, reaching over to put a hand on our mother’s, quieting her from saying what she’s already taken a breath to say. Instead, Michelle speaks. “We know, Elliot. That’s why we have one more woman we’d like you to consider.”
No way. No way they’re bringing Jenna back after everything that went down in Paris. They can’t possibly do this to me. Make me break one more heart with my inability to envision a future with anyone but the one who got away. “Please don’t do this, Michelle.”
Hannah’s face disappears from the screen behind them. Momentary blackness takes its place as I steel myself for another glance into Jenna’s bright blue eyes. But it isn’t Jenna’s face that appears.
Dark, almond eyes, broad, smooth cheeks, and a ponytail that won’t give up.
“Ginger,” I whisper, my breath rushing out of me as my former producer’s image fills the screen, a candid shot of her smiling near the Hacienda’s pool, maybe looking up at Jamie, or Kat.
The photo shifts, zooms out, and there I am, in that stupid coral shirt, staring down at her adorably grinning face with a mix of heated desire and pure affection in my eyes.
The alcohol takes a wicked turn in my stomach as nerves threaten to bring it all back up my throat. “What is this?”
“We’d like you to watch a piece the producers put together.”