Chapter 16
I don’t sleep well. I can’t stop replaying that disaster of a rose ceremony in my head. I wake up around nine. I’ve never slept so late in my life, but the rose ceremony took forever, and then I tossed and turned until sunrise. So much for my routine. I’ve wasted more time since the show started filming than I ever have in my life. This show is messing with everything. It’s going to be an adjustment when I’m finally done and allowed to go back to the real world.
At least I have things to do. They’ve stashed me in the recreation building. It’s the building with the game room, gym, home theater, and the indoor pool. I’m allowed to swim, work out, play video games, though not online. I have a pool table, and I can watch movies or read books, but the only people I get to talk to are the crew, and only when their job requires my presence. I’m so isolated I’m losing my mind. Vivian complained about boredom, but at least she has all the other women to talk to. I only have one. And I request to see her after my workout.
Maxine is the production’s psychologist. She’s a little older, probably pushing sixty. She’s got chin-length salt and pepper hair, a few wrinkles, and a little extra weight on her. But she’s got kind eyes and a soft smile. There’s something soothing about her. Grandmotherly. She makes you want to trust her. That’s not something I generally do, but I’m desperate.
She’s been set up in the guesthouse. It has a small office where she can have privacy from the hundred people and cameras lurking around the property. She sits in one of the chairs and gestures for me to take the other. We’re angled toward each other with only a small side table separating us. It’s intimate, and a little nerve-racking.
I squirm in my chair while she sits beside me, watching me with a friendly smile and probably analyzing my every move. “You’re nervous,” she says, breaking the silence.
I hate that she knows that. Maybe asking to see her was a bad idea. “I’ve never done this before. Seen a psychologist, I mean.”
She has a notepad and a pen on her lap, but she sets them down on the table and pulls her legs up onto the chair in a much more casual position. I’m sure it’s a calculated move to make me feel more comfortable. Surprisingly, it works. I relax into my chair and let out a long breath through puffed cheeks.
“This is a safe place,” she says with a soft smile. “No cameras, no prying eyes or ears, and anything you say stays in this room. I imagine a man in your position has a hard time being vulnerable, but the more honest you are with me, the more I can help you.”
She’s got me pegged already. I hate feeling vulnerable. “Maybe this was a mistake. I should just go.”
“Sebastian.” She reaches across the small table and rests her hand on top of mine when I start to stand. “You asked to see me for a reason. Let’s just talk about whatever you’re comfortable with.”
I sit back in my chair and deflate, sinking into the smooth leather. Whatever I’m comfortable with? That’s nothing. I don’t talk about my problems to anyone, ever. I scrub my hands over my face, rubbing my eyes with my palms.
“How are you coping with being away from work?”
I lower my hands and slide her a glance. “I haven’t been away from the company this long since I was sixteen, and I’ve never been completely out of touch from it before.”
That was one of the stipulations the show wouldn’t give on when I signed on. I am not allowed contact with the outside world except in case of emergencies. If the company needs something that only I can take care of, then they can call me, but I’m not allowed to check in just to check in. So far, no one has called.
“It must be hard to hand over control like that.”
I grimace. “You could say that.”
She picks up her notepad and jots something down. Probably noting my control issues. “I trust my mom and Pete,” I say, knowing the real answer isn’t quite as simple as that. “But there’s always something that comes up, fires that need to be put out. What if something happens and they don’t know what to do about it?”
She smiles reassuringly. “They’re allowed to call you for emergencies, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Have they called?”
I sigh. “No.”
She lets the silence play out for a moment, then says, “You sound disappointed by that.”
I’m startled by her word choice. Am I happy that there haven’t been any emergencies in the few weeks I’ve been gone? Of course. But… I shift in my chair and admit the truth. “I don’t like it. It makes me feel not needed.”
She writes something else down, and then looks at me. Her eyes are understanding, and she’s just so calm. “That must be hard for you. But it’s understandable, and a very reasonable feeling. Everyone needs to feel valued. That’s human nature. In your case, you’ve made your job your life. Your position in your company is your whole identity. It’s where you get that validation that we all crave. Without it, I imagine you feel quite lost.”
I shift in my seat again. She’s right. About all of it. It feels like she’s looking directly into my mind, seeing my thoughts, learning all my insecurities.
“It’s not good to have all your eggs in one basket,” she says.
I frown, unsure what she means.
“If all of your self-worth comes from your career, what happens when it’s taken away? You need other sources for that validation, other things, other people, that can give you fulfillment. Your life can’t only be about work.”
Bitterness creeps into my heart. “You sound like my father.”
Her eyebrows go up. “Oh? And was he a man you respected?”
I nod. As angry as I am over what he did, I respected the hell out of him.
“And did you trust him?”
I nod again, and then I stiffen, realizing what she’s getting at. If Dad was such a wise man, if I respected and trusted him so much, then maybe he had a point with all his talk about balance. He was still out of his mind with the marriage stipulation.
Maxine lets the silence stretch out, giving me time to have my epiphany. After it sinks in a little, she says, “Maybe that’s why you decided to come on the show? As a sort of tribute to your father? Maybe it was a way to honor his desire for you to find another outlet besides work?”
I scoff. “Oh, I’m definitely here because of my father, but it’s not to honor him.”
She cocks a questioning brow at me, and that’s all it takes to spill the whole situation. I explain what he did, and then I rant about the insanity for I don’t even know how long. I unload all of my anger and frustration on the poor woman. She listens and occasionally takes a few notes, but she never interrupts me. When I finally settle down a bit, she studies me. Eventually, she sits back and sighs. “That’s a lot of pressure.”
I bark out a laugh. “Tell me about it.”
Her smile becomes sympathetic again. She’s got a knack for looking compassionate without making me feel like she’s pitying me. “I’m sorry you’ve been put into this situation. Your attitude toward the show and the contestants makes a lot more sense now. Have you explained this to anyone? Does the show know? Do the women?”
“No.” I tip my head back and sigh at the ceiling. “Only the highest-ups know. Having that information public would put the company in a very vulnerable position. I can’t risk that.”
She nods thoughtfully. I’m surprised when I find myself waiting for her advice. It felt really good to get my feelings off my chest to someone. It’s nice to have someone in this whole nightmare who knows what I’m going through. Maybe there is something to this therapy thing after all.
“All right. Let’s change the subject. Let’s talk about the women on the show. I know you’re reluctant, but if you’re sincerely hoping to find a wife, you’ll have to try to form connections with some of them. Or at least one of them.”
I curl my lips over my teeth and slide her another look. I don’t want to say what I’m thinking, but Maxine doesn’t need me to. “Your rose ceremony last night was interesting.”
She’s prodding. I can’t blame her. And I want to tell her. This is the real reason I asked for this meeting. But finding the words is a lot harder than I expected. I can’t seem to make sense of my feelings enough to voice them.
“How are you feeling about your choices?”
I snort. “They weren’t my choices. The producers told me who to pick.”
Her eyebrows climb her forehead. “For all of them?”
I nod. They asked me who I wanted, and when I only had one name, they filled in the blanks for me. “I needed several ethnicities. I needed a few different ages. They demanded I keep those two horrible women because they want the drama even though it makes me look like an idiot for choosing them. And they wanted the woman who’s never been kissed to stay. They’re hoping I’ll be her first, which is just cruel, if you ask me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I couldn’t care less about that woman. She seems nice enough. She deserves for her first kiss to be with a man who actually wants her.”
Maxine sits back and writes more notes. “That’s very considerate of you.”
I glare at her. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a total asshole.”
“No, you aren’t.” She meets my eyes with a steady gaze. “You’re under a lot of stress and very much out of your comfort zone. Give it time, and people will see the truth. Especially if you can manage to let your guard down like you did at the ball.”
I glance at her, surprised, and she shrugs. “I get to watch all the dailies so that I have a better understanding of what the contestants are going through. You managed to relax that night. I daresay you even enjoyed yourself for a while.”
She’s looking for some confirmation. Again, she’s right. I had relaxed, and even enjoyed the night. That’s why Vivian’s rejection last night stung so much. My jaw clenches thinking about it, and I curl my hands into fists.
Maxine uses her mind-reading powers again and softly asks, “Did the producers ask you to pick Vivian?”
“They didn’t have to,” I mutter. Embarrassment isn’t something I feel often, but I was humiliated last night.
Maxine stares at me, assessing, judging, or maybe trying to figure out how to say what she wants to say without upsetting me. I don’t like feeling as if I’m under her microscope.
I look away, focusing on a print on the wall of Caspar David Friedrich’s Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog. My father had picked it. I always thought it was a bit drab, but I have much more appreciation for it now. A man standing alone on the rocks, surrounded by dreary fog. That about sums up my mood.
“You’re upset.”
It takes everything in me to not snark a sarcastic reply.
“You suggested Vivian join the show in the twins’ place. That wasn’t just about the twins needing to go home, was it?”
I glare at the woman again. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to stop. How does she see through me so easily?
She waits patiently for me to get ahold of my emotions. When it becomes clear that she’s waiting for a response from me, I slump back in my chair and sigh. “She caught my interest before the show,” I admit. “I knew on day one that I could never marry any of the contestants the producers picked. When the opportunity presented itself to get Vivian on the show, I took it.” I rake my hands through my hair. “How could I have known she’d hate it so much? She was already working for the show.”
“You knew she wanted out last night.”
All of my frustration returns with a vengeance. “No, I didn’t know that,” I snap. I let my head fall to the back of the chair and close my eyes. I take a deep breath, trying to cool my temper. “We had a good time the other night. We danced. We talked. In the limo on the way home, she leaned on me. She held my hand. I thought we’d connected.” I grind my teeth, remembering the anger in her eyes last night. “Apparently, that was just me.”
I stare aimlessly at the ceiling again, wishing there was a couch in this room so I could lay down like in the movies. It’s easier to talk about my feelings when I’m not looking the therapist in the eyes. Especially when the topic is so embarrassing. “Maybe it makes me a fool, but I didn’t expect her to say no. I thought she might be flattered that I asked her to stay. I thought she might be excited to get to know me better.” My face heats up, and I rub my hands over it again as if that might wipe away the redness in my cheeks. I can’t remember the last time I blushed. “She caught me off guard. I was angry, and humiliated, and…and…”
“And hurt?” Maxine finishes for me, finding the word I couldn’t say.
I hate to admit it, but she’s not wrong. I’m hurt. I feel like a little kid crying to mommy because a girl hurt my feelings. It’s ridiculous, but it’s true. Vivian hurt my feelings. “She rejected me in front of everyone. And she did it so easily. She acted like me wanting her to stay was the most horrible thing that ever happened to her.”
A long silence draws out between us, and I close my eyes again. The only sound in the room is the quiet scratching of Maxine’s pen on her paper as she jots down her thoughts and impressions. When she’s finished, she lets me sit undisturbed for another full minute at least. Then she clears her throat and gently says, “You could let her go. From this point on, the show lets you release people if you really feel like it won’t work between you.”
“I can’t,” I say, and it comes out sounding as desperate as I feel. I sit forward again and meet Maxine’s gaze as if making eye contact will solve my problem. “I’m not just here to be a TV star. I have to find a wife. And according to my father’s will, it has to be a real relationship. They have to believe I love her. Vivian is the only one that’s even remotely a possibility. I need her to give me a chance. Do you know the last time I was interested in a woman? I can’t even tell you because I don’t remember ever truly liking someone.”
“And you like Vivian?”
I cringe at the question. I feel like a middle school boy admitting he has his first crush. “She’s unique. Smart, confident, nice, beautiful. She’s selfless. What she did for the twins? That was the most loyal, unselfish thing I’ve ever seen anyone do. And she doesn’t care about my money. She had the chance to date a billionaire, and she didn’t want to take it. That’s not just rare; it’s impossible. She’s my choice. My only choice.”
“Perhaps you should tell her that.”
I scoff. “I doubt she’ll believe me. I’m practically keeping her prisoner here. Who does that?”
Maxine sighs. “She was surprised last night. I saw the look on her face. She was in shock. I doubt her rejection was personal. It seemed more like a knee-jerk reaction than anything. It’s being on the show she doesn’t like. Not you. If you explained your choice?—”
“I can’t. The company can’t afford that. People’s jobs are at stake. People’s investments. Their livelihoods.”
Maxine shakes her head. “I don’t mean tell her that—though you’ll have to tell whoever you’re going to marry eventually.”
“I don’t have to do it on the show. I can wait until after and explain everything privately.”
“Yes, that’s probably a good idea. But if you want to smooth things over with Vivian, you need to be honest with her. At least about why you picked her. You can tell her how you feel about her without explaining the direness of your situation. If you apologize and tell her you like her, she’ll probably forgive you.”
I scoff. The look of rage in Vivian’s eyes last night didn’t leave much room for forgiveness.
“Communication goes a long way, Sebastian. Honesty builds trust. Understanding spurs forgiveness. Plus…” She gives me a small, playful smile. “I don’t know any woman whose heart wouldn’t be softened by that speech you just gave me.”
Horror washes through me at the thought of professing all that stuff I just said to Vivian. In front of cameras, so the whole nation can watch me spout my feelings like some lovesick sap. And to a woman I barely know. I’ll look insane.
“What if I tell her and she still rejects me after that?” My insecurity is showing again, but I can’t help it. Vivian unsettles me. “I’d be a laughingstock. No one would ever take me seriously again. I can’t risk losing the respect of my associates and employees. I’ve worked hard to build my no-nonsense, and at times brutally harsh, reputation. It’s necessary for a man in my position. I’m young with less experience than most of the people I deal with on a daily basis. I can’t afford to look weak. Coming on this show was a mistake.”
“Maybe,” she admits, surprising me. She’s the first person to see things from my perspective. I appreciate that. “Unfortunately, it’s too late to back out now. If you quit, break your contract, and let the network sue you, the story will get out. You’ll look just as bad as if you fail in your quest to find a wife.”
I let a breath out in a woosh. This is hopeless. I’m screwed. “Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.”
“The only way you come out of this a winner is if you succeed in finding happiness and you get married. Then, once everything is set in stone and your position in your company is safe, you could explain the truth of your father’s will. People would see the lengths you went to save your company. What you’re doing is very selfless, Sebastian. Your employees would love you. Your associates would respect you. The nation would rally behind you. Especially if they had a whirlwind romance to swoon over.”
She’s right. I have to succeed. It’s the only way. But it feels hopeless right now. “You make it sound so easy.”
She shakes her head. “Relationships are never easy. Love can be complicated. But you don’t strike me as the type to back down from a challenge.”
She reaches over to pat my knee once, then stands up. She sets her notepad and pen on the desk, then turns to face me. “I believe you’re needed soon for your excursion.”
I let out a breath and climb to my feet. I have no idea how I’m going to win Vivian over, but a weight has been lifted off my chest. Maxine is right. I can face this logically. Pretend it’s like any other problem I’ve had to solve. I’m good at finding solutions.
I hold out my hand to Maxine in gratitude. “Thanks, Doctor,” I say as we shake hands. “This whole therapy thing wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
She laughs. “My door is always open.”