Chapter 1 #2
“Don’t let Brady or one of the other producers corner you,” Rachel said. “I think I overheard the words, ‘televised double wedding.’”
Calla snorted. “Over my dead body.”
Calla and Eli had already sent out their save-the-dates for their fall nuptials. I was truly happy for them both. I was. But the sting of showing up alone to yet another wedding was ever-present.
I seemed to have a knack for always being single. Before the show—before Danny—I’d never even called someone my boyfriend. Just situationship after situationship, usually ending in them rejecting me, for some reason or another.
Ironically, out of all the women who had been dropped onto Tough Love, it had been me who’d been the most open to love to begin with. Calla and Rachel had both wanted to leave, yet now they were the ones sporting the gorgeous rings, gifts from men who were enamored with them.
“I still can’t believe they wanted to have a reunion after all these months,” Calla said.
“Probably because season two was such a dud. Not even a single successful relationship,” I added.
Even with a lackluster season two, Tough Love was still the number one reality dating program on television.
“Wow. Shocker. Who would have thought that tricking a bunch of singles into going on a dating show wasn’t the winning formula to everlasting love?” Rachel winced and shook her head.
“It worked for y’all,” I pointed out, hoping there was no note of bitterness in my voice.
“Barely,” Calla said. “Production almost ruined everything for Eli and me. But I guess, technically, we never would have met if it weren’t for this stupid show, so I should at least be a little grateful.”
A head poked into the dressing room. Brady, one of the producers of Tough Love, appeared, his shaggy blond hair, small frame, and over-eager face taking up the doorway.
“Well, aren’t you three a sight for sore eyes,” he said.
I gave him a begrudging wave and Rachel sighed. “I can’t believe you’re still here,” she said.
He smirked. “Great to see you too, Rachel. And for the record, the first season—of which I was an integral part—was wildly successful. So…” He trailed off before swiping and tapping on his tablet. “Are you all ready? We’re getting everyone in place.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Calla murmured close to my ear. Rachel reached for my hand and squeezed it.
I appreciated their attempt at comfort, but it wasn’t helping to quell the nauseous pit in my stomach.
The only thing stressing me out more than seeing Danny, was realizing that everyone still thought I was a heartbroken mess over him.
And I hadn’t done a damn thing to disguise it or change America’s opinion.
Sure, everyone was excited to see Rachel and Arnie, and Calla and Eli, the happy couples.
But what really had them tuning in was the drama.
And, unfortunately, they were hoping to find that with me.
Danny and I were tonight’s headliners.
Brady led us all into a brightly lit room, with cameras on one side, and the space for the reunion set up on the other. There was a chair for the host in the middle, flanked by two sets of loveseats in front of a background that looked like a fake window overlooking a mountain range.
Crap.
Would I have to sit next to Danny on one of those loveseats? Our shoulders would be brushing, and under these hot lights, I might just pass out due to the forced proximity.
The only people seated so far were Sofia and Grant. A petite woman holding a phone walked in a circle around Sofia as Sofia posed, attempting to catch every angle for her millions of followers. Grant sat relaxed, lounging back in one of the other seats.
“Okay, Calla and Rachel up front. Trace, you’ll go next to Grant.
” Brady pointed at each of the seats, and I let out a near silent exhale.
They didn’t have me seated next to Danny after all.
Part of me was grateful, but I knew the reprieve was just because they’d be saving our confrontation for later.
Now I had to pretend not to stare at him from across the room the entire time.
“Hey, stranger.” Grant flashed his killer smile at me as I took a seat.
“How are you?” I asked, putting on my best sweet southern belle voice—the one I’d tried desperately to tone down, as my label had requested.
Grant was as sleazy as he was handsome and had never met a dirty joke he didn’t care for.
But he was also harmless and good friends with Calla.
The two of us had never been close, but I’d seen him a handful of times over the past year.
He’d even come to one of my shows in New York.
I still wasn’t sure if it was to support me or to impress the girl he’d brought, but I was choosing to take it as a sweet gesture.
“I’m getting by. I just finished filming a new show. I’d tell you about it, but NDAs.” He waved a hand. “You know how it is.”
“Of course.” I forced a smile as Grant continued to prattle on in my ear. My leg bounced up and down as I stared across the room at the still-empty seats. The anticipation was driving me up the wall.
God, what was wrong with me? How could I still let him affect me so much after all this time?
“Freaking out?” Grant whispered close to my ear.
“I’m fine,” I said.
He chuckled. “I can literally feel your nervous energy.”
His voice was still low, but Calla looked back as he said that, shooting me a sympathetic smile.
Which just made me feel all the more pathetic.
Then I stopped breathing all together.
Footsteps sounded off to the side of the stage.
Eli walked onto the set first, looking perfectly put together as usual.
He ran a hand through his wavy hair before taking the seat next to Calla and kissing her cheek.
Arnie, entering right behind him, straightened his glasses as he sat down next to Rachel, smiling wide.
“Breathe,” Grant whispered, but I didn’t follow his instructions.
Danny stepped onto the stage last.
His hair was longer than the last time I’d seen him but still cropped tightly against his ears. He wore his typical uniform of all black—a tight button-up shirt, pants, and boots. His expression was just as dark as his clothes, and he kept his icy blue gaze trained down at the floor.
Was he intentionally not looking at me? That lit a blaze in my chest.
After what he’d done, how dare he have the nerve not to meet my eyes? After all the fake promises? After everything he’d put me through, he could at least have the decency to look me in the—
And then he did.
As he was taking his seat next to Sofia, his gaze lifted and found mine immediately. It was like the whole world had stopped. Suddenly, we were living in a picture, only the two of us.
I should smile. Offer some sort of greeting to show I wasn’t completely torn up inside. But my mouth was frozen, so instead, I tore my gaze away, turned to Grant and pretended to laugh even though he hadn’t said anything.
Grant quirked an eyebrow at me. “Oh, yeah. That was real natural.”
“Shut up,” I said through a smile, not daring to look at Danny again.
Thankfully, I didn’t have much time to dwell on it. There was a flurry of activity as the hair and makeup people did quick touch ups on all of us. Brady and a few other producers came out to ensure everyone was in their places as the camera operators settled in.
Then the host sauntered out in head-to-toe sequins. Rita Marston gave us all a wave, as if she were the queen greeting her loyal subjects, before taking the grand seat in the middle of us all.
Grant nudged me in the side. “Remember to smile, Trace.”
My cheeks strained to keep the corners of my lips held high as they counted us down. I could barely see with all the lights blaring down on us.
Rita cleared her throat, and we were on. “Welcome to the season one reunion of Tough Love. Let’s dive right in.”