Chapter 8
Andrea leads me back to the guesthouse. I’m sat down at the dining table, and lights are set up around me. James shows up with a camera crew. I assume this is for my “introduction” video, but instead Sebastian and the lawyer guy from the meeting show up with a stack of papers at least twenty pages thick.
I start to speak, but James asks me to hold off on my questions until the cameras are locked down and ready to roll. I snap my mouth shut, and stew in silence. I don’t really have a choice. I have to do what James asks. Always. I’m required to. Contractually. This is my life for the next two months. No way around it.
It’s for the twins. It’s for Rich so he can have his daughters with him.
Sebastian and the show’s lawyer sit down on either side of me instead of sitting across from me at the table. They were directed to these seats to create a better shot for the camera, but I feel boxed in. I feel like prey, and I don’t like it. None of us say anything until James gives us the go ahead. The lawyer speaks first. He turns to me with a nervous smile. “Hi, Ms. Euling. I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself before. I’m Dennis Barlow, Marry Me’s head legal counsel. I have your contract here, all ready for you to sign.” He pushes the stack of papers toward me. “I’ve marked all the places for you to sign and initial with tabs.”
I flip through the pages, the tiny words blurring as they pass. “You’re kidding.”
The man laughs nervously again. You’d think a head lawyer for a show as ruthless with their contracts as Marry Me would be a little more aggressive. They should have a shark in a suit, like Jeremiah, not some nervous patsy. Then again, maybe he’s the good cop to Jeremiah’s bad cop. Get the contestant feeling nice and secure so that they’ll sign whatever is put in front of them.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know it’s long. Marry Me doesn’t joke about contracts.”
I guess not. The contract and NDA I had to sign just to be on staff was crazy enough. This is at least double that, full of fine-print stipulations and releases of liability. I turn the contract back to the first page. “It’s going to take me an hour or two to read this whole thing. Do you really want to film me reading it?”
“Do you need to read it?” Sebastian asks, speaking for the first time since entering the room. The jerk sounds exasperated.
I glare at him. “I’d like to know what I’m signing, yes. Make sure I’m not handing over my soul or anything.”
He cocks that infuriating brow at me and raises his chin with just a hint of disdain. “The outcome will be the same no matter what it says. If you don’t sign it, the twins stay here.”
I glare at him. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be wining and dining the twenty other women still on the show?”
He shrugs. “The show agreed to let us have dinner alone tonight.”
His calm demeanor is really aggravating because I’m not nearly as settled about any of this. I’ve lost all control of this situation while it appears he’s gained it.
I have one last night of freedom, and I have some calls to make. I’m not wasting my few precious hours having dinner with him. “Yeah, I’ll pass, thanks.”
Irritation sweeps across his face, but it disappears quickly, and he adopts a bored expression. “That’s not a request.”
My mouth falls open. Is he serious right now? There is no way I’m going to be able to keep a level head throughout this process. I can’t even last five minutes in this man’s presence without losing my temper.
He’s sitting right next to me. His chair is turned at an angle to face mine slightly. He moves one arm to rest on the back of my chair while the other settles on the table between us. He leans in, staring into my eyes as if trying to intimidate me into giving him what he wants. I resist the urge to lean back away from him. I’m not giving this man an inch. He’s the bossy type. Let him push you once, and he’ll never stop. If only his cologne wasn’t making my head swim and his stormy gray eyes weren’t so captivating. This whole thing would be a lot easier if he wasn’t the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.
He speaks in a quiet voice. Not soft, mind you. Just quiet. Somehow the lower volume makes the demand pack more punch. “You’re required to participate in any and all activities the show dictates. If I want you to have dinner with me, you have dinner with me.”
And that breaks the spell. I’ve never heard a more arrogant statement in all my life. I laugh a harsh, angry laugh. “This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey. I don’t find controlling men sexy.”
His jaw hardens, and he clenches his hand on the table into a fist. “I need a break from those vultures. Have dinner with me, please.”
My refusal dies with the word vultures. Sebastian Monroe is a very closed-off man. He would never admit to being uncomfortable. That would be seen as weakness, something I doubt a man in his position can afford. You have to read between the lines to see his vulnerability, but it’s there. I’m a sucker for sensitive men, no matter how deep those emotions are buried.
“Fine. Dinner. But I have a few calls to make first, and I want to say good-bye to the twins before they leave.”
* * *
Sebastian sticks to me like glue until dinner. He sits there with me while I sign the contract. As much as I want to, I don’t take the time to read the whole thing because it’s getting late and I want the girls to get some sleep before Rich’s surgery in the morning. I only check the addendums that were added to my contract. When I’m convinced that Ana and Jules will be released from any and all obligations to the show, I sign on all the right lines. A heavy weight settles on my chest. I’m pretty sure the show owns me for at least a year.
Then Sebastian sits quietly beside me through another weepy call with Ella and a heated one with my dads where I explain what happened. He’s with me when the twins are loaded into a limo with their luggage and sent off. He says good-bye to each of them, and his condolences for their father’s situation are surprisingly heartfelt. He understands what they’re going through. He only lost his own father five months ago, and it was sudden. I don’t know how close he was to his father, but he’s clearly no stranger to grief.
As soon as the limo drives off, this strange emptiness overwhelms me. A sort of what now? With the twins here, I had a mission. I had to be strong for them and do everything I could to see them get to their family. Now that they’re gone, that push is no longer there. My grief may not be as strong as the twins’, but I’ve been a large part of the Coleman family for years. I hate that I’m not in that limo with Juliette and Anastasia.
A hand falls lightly onto my shoulder. “Are you all right?” Sebastian asks. This time his voice is soft, and it prompts me to be open with him.
“No.” I swallow hard. My eyes gloss over with tears. I pull out of his grasp, turn away from him, and wrap my arms around my stomach. “I’m stuck here, and I feel so helpless.”
Sebastian moves to stand behind me. I feel his presence even though he doesn’t touch me again. “Not helpless,” he says with surprising warmth in his voice. “You just helped that family more than anyone else besides the doctors could. They’re going to be together. You made that possible. Sacrificing your own happiness for those you love is very admirable.”
I get what he’s saying, but I can’t help whirling on him. Anger and resentment whip through me. “I shouldn’t have had to sacrifice anything. If you hadn’t interfered, the show would have let them go anyway. I wouldn’t be stuck here, participating in this useless charade. How could you do that?”
His face goes blank. The warmth that was in his voice seconds ago goes cold. “You don’t know that the show would have let them leave. They needed to go; I found a solution. You should be thanking me for that, not blaming me.”
If he has a point, my pride refuses to let me concede to it.
A long silence draws out between us until he sighs. “Come on. They aren’t going to let us get out of dinner, and I still have a rose ceremony to get through after this.”
I know he’s right. I won’t be allowed to get any alone time until after dinner, and I want nothing more than to lie down in my bunk and shut off my brain for a while.
“Do you want to change or freshen up your hair and makeup before we film?” James asks.
He’s just asking me that now? They’ve been filming me all night.
I don’t want to know what I look like. My clothes are fine, I always try to look my best, but my hair is up in a messy knot that started out looking cute this morning but probably looks sloppy now, and my makeup has got to be a nightmare after crying with Ana and Juliette. “A touch-up would be nice. Anything to help me regain some of my dignity.”
Sebastian frowns at that. “You haven’t lost your dignity.”
I laugh. “Right. The whole nation is going to see that I was just blackmailed into being on this show. I’ve been crying off and on all night, and I’m sure I look like a raccoon. I can only imagine how they’re going to edit today’s footage.”
His frown goes nowhere. “You acted with poise and grace, love, loyalty, and strength. No matter how they edit the footage, the nation is going to love you.”
I don’t know how much poise and grace calling someone a dick to their face is, but it’s still nice of him to say. Sebastian being nice is weird. I don’t quite know what to do with it. When I don’t reply, he holds his arm out to me like a gentleman. I didn’t know he had manners. I’m still not happy with him, but it would be really petty to ignore him, so I take his arm and let him lead me away.
James takes us to a private gazebo where a candlelit dinner for two is waiting for us. Tina and Sadie are there ready with big hugs. I fall into their arms and soak up the much-needed affection. “You okay?” Tina asks, her mother hen side in full force.
I let out a long breath and shake off my nerves. Their sincere concern brings all of my emotions back. “No. But I guess I have to be now.”
“Are you really going to be a contestant?” Sadie asks, pushing me into a chair where she’s got some makeup waiting. She pulls out a makeup wipe and starts attacking my face.
“It was the only way they’d let Ana and Juliette out of their contracts. I have to take their place.”
Tina pulls my hair out of my elastic and attacks it with a brush. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“What a bunch of jerks,” Sadie says.
I couldn’t agree more. “Well, there’s no use sulking over it. I don’t want to be painted as the whiny baby of the season.”
Tina finishes brushing my hair and stands back. She sighs. “We’ll have to put your hair back up. We won’t get rid of the lump from your ponytail without blowing it out, and there’s no time for that.”
“Up is fine. And I don’t need a lot of makeup,” I tell Sadie. “I just need to look like I’ve tried to clean up a little. This is coming right after all the crying. If I look perfect, I’ll seem like I don’t care or like I’m trying too hard.”
Both women give me understanding smiles. “Low-key it is, then,” Sadie says. “We’ll just get rid of the raccoon eyes.”
I chuckle. “I knew I looked like a mess.”
“A beautiful mess. You’re a pretty crier. Promise.”
I’m definitely not, but I appreciate the white lie.
Once I look decent, they touch up Sebastian next. He grumbles the whole time. Then Sebastian and I are seated at the table beside one another instead of across from each other. We’re instructed to save any conversation until the cameras are rolling. I assume that means no eating yet, either. This food looks picture perfect and smells amazing. After a few minutes of setting up lights and cameras, I’m losing my patience. “I wish they’d hurry up. I’m starving, and the food is getting cold.”
Sebastian looks at the food longingly. “We can’t eat it.”
I frown at him. “What do you mean?”
“It’s all for show. They won’t let us eat until we’re done here, and then, they’re going to separate us first. You’ll get to eat in your room later.”
I look at the food again. It looks like a gourmet dinner and smells divine. “What kind of stupid?—”
“You don’t want to eat it,” James says, walking up with a happy smile. “Trust me. There’s nothing sexy about stuffing your face. Plus, the mics will pick up all the noise. No one wants to listen to you eat.”
I guess he has a point, but I still groan. “I haven’t eaten since ten this morning.”
Both he and Sebastian chuckle. “We’ll be quick,” James promises again. I still don’t believe him.
“Why have the food at all, then?” I ask. “It seems wasteful and pointless if no one’s going to eat it.”
James shrugs. “This entire show is literally just people talking. We change up the activities and locations to make it feel different.”
I never realized how ridiculous this show is before.
James steps back out of the shot. “Okay, guys, we’re good to go. Whenever you’re ready.”
Everyone goes quiet, staring at Sebastian and me. The silence stretches out.
“Any time now,” James prompts.
“Any time now, what?” I ask. “What are we supposed to be doing? Besides not eating?”
James sighs. “Talk to each other.”
“About what?”
He waves a hand between Sebastian and me. “Get to know each other. You’re on a date.”
I snort. I’ve had some horrible dates, but this might be a new record.
I lean back in my chair and fold my arms, waiting for Sebastian to start this circus. I’m not trying to be difficult; I just have no idea what to say to this man. He doesn’t seem to know, either. He just keeps staring at me. Brooding. It pisses me off. “If you didn’t want me to be here, why make me stay?”
He watches me a long minute before speaking. “I never said I don’t want you here.”
“Your scowl says it for you.”
There’s another long pause. I’ve noticed it always takes him a second to respond. He’s very careful about everything that comes out of his mouth. I really should take a lesson from him. I tend to react first and think second. “I’m not good at this,” he says.
Not good at what? Being on camera? Being social? Being polite? “Then why come on the show? It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to be here.”
That earns me a nasty glare. It’s the same death look I kept getting last week when I helped him pick out his clothes. “Right. I forgot. That topic is off-limits.”
And cue another long, awkward silence.
“Come on, you guys,” James says off camera. “Give us something, or we’ll be here all night.”
Both Sebastian and I glower at James. He just waits. We sit there some more.
This is painful, but I’m not going to break the silence. Sebastian’s the star here. It’s his show. He can fill the silence. I sit there and scowl at the food I’m not allowed to eat.
Sebastian shifts in his seat. He clears his throat and says, “So…how old are you? Where are you from?”
A maniacal laugh bursts out of me at the ridiculous questions. “Small talk? Really?”
He huffs. “What else do you want me to say?”
I shake my head and go off on him. I’m normally a lot more even-tempered and laid back than this, but I’m an emotional basket case tonight. “The Colemans and the Olivers are like family to me. Rich is dying. I should be there with them, and instead I’m here, making small talk over a dinner I can’t even eat. This is so pointless. It’s not like we’re actually going to fall in love and get married. I’m a publicity stunt.”
He clenches his jaw. “Don’t assume you understand my motives. This isn’t pointless to me. And you aren’t a publicity stunt.”
“You’re exploiting me because my best friends are famous.” I shake my head in disgust. “Story of my life. Every man I’ve dated since my connection to Brian Oliver was made known has tried to use me to get something from him. Why should you be any different?”
He blinks at me, and his face flushes with anger. “You think I don’t know how that feels? Every woman I’ve ever met has only seen my bank account. I’m not trying to use you. I wouldn’t do that.”
I slap a hand on the table. “This whole thing was your idea! You’re the one who suggested I take the twins’ place. You’re the one who said we should make the charity ball a date for the show.”
He throws his hands in the air. “Your friends needed to go home! You wanted to go to the ball you’ve worked so hard for. I solved the problems. That’s what I do. A large part of my job is finding solutions to problems that everyone can be happy with.”
I scoff. “I am not happy.”
He stares me down with insulting condescension. “Did you not want your friends to be released from their contracts?”
“Of course I did!”
“And do you not want to attend your ball?”
I’m seething, but I can’t deny it. I do want to go to the ball. It means a lot to me.
He waves his hand at me in a there you go gesture. “You got what you wanted. Quit bitching about the compromise.”
My mouth falls open. Did this man really just tell me to quit bitching? On camera? For national television?
He just made me look like a spoiled, selfish brat. It’s humiliating. And worse, I can’t help thinking he’s right. I’m acting childish. Juliette and Anastasia are out of their contracts. That’s the only thing that matters. Still, he didn’t have to be such an ass about it.
I push my chair back and stand up. I’m on the verge of tears, but I’ll be damned if I let this man make me cry. My voice shakes almost as much as my hands are trembling. “You are such an asshole.”
Forget the participation rule. I’m done for the night. I storm off, and no one stops me.