Chapter Fifteen
Post–Week One Interviews, Clips
“I think Roland has a great shot at love with a lot of the women. He’s building strong connections and that’s what the first few weeks are all about.
[pause] Georgia and Addison … I don’t know, I think Georgia is trying to stay out of the drama, which is probably a smart move.
Addison’s lethal, but I’m sure Georgia can handle herself. ”
The seaside amusement park is completely deserted. It’s vaguely postapocalyptic: dusty pastel rides, shuttered food stands, empty chip bags blowing in the breeze. The only other people in sight are producers and the bored employee manning the circle of death before us.
I wish I could jump back in Rhett’s car and whiz away.
The last time I was on a Ferris wheel was with my dad in middle school, right after my parents’ divorce.
We’d gone from eating cereal together every morning to visits twice a week, and it was hard to find natural conversation topics.
Whenever I had something to say, it felt like he should have already known—or like by having to tell him I was only underscoring how little we really talked.
I was too worried about messing up my day with him to remind him that I was scared of heights. But having a panic attack at peak altitude and breathing into a paper bag on the way home messed up our day without me even trying.
“Ready?” Lainey gives all three of us a quick once-over and nods, her eyes snagging briefly on my chest. “Georgia”—I should’ve put on a bra—“can you at least try to look happy?”
I jerk my head up to look at Lainey, who’s staring not at my chest, but at my face. “Your expression is saying ‘I have RBF and I’m a pain in the ass.’ It needs to say ‘The only RBF I know is Roland’s Beautiful Face. He is my everything.’ Understood?”
I blink at her and nod, but pulling up my smile is as painful as if there were fishhooks dug into the corners of my mouth.
Roland reaches for my hand, then awkwardly pulls back, glancing at Addison. He shoves both fists into his pockets and looks curiously at me. “You okay?”
“Roll—roll!” I hear Lainey whisper behind us.
My eyes flick to the side as a camera looms over my shoulder.
I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart.
My panic is exactly what they want. It’s not a coincidence that this date is the embodiment of all my worst fears; it’s manipulation of the highest degree.
I’d almost admire Lainey if I weren’t on the receiving end of her sick games.
“Totally,” I answer, smiling. But if I don’t give Lainey something, she’ll just keep pushing. “I’m just a little afraid of heights, is all.”
“Figures,” Addison mutters.
I ignore her and look only at Roland, whose face falls into lines of concern. “Oh, Georgia.” He steps forward and takes my shoulders in his hands, my face tipping up to his. “I’m so sorry—I had no idea.”
Of course he didn’t.
“Well, she doesn’t have to come,” Addison points out.
To his credit, Roland ignores her. “We don’t have to do this.”
One glance at Addison gets my head back in the game. I bite my lip, faking an Oscar-worthy chin-wobble. “I’ll be okay if you hold my hand,” I say quietly to Roland.
Roland gently takes my hand between his. “Take your time, Georgia Peach, no rush.”
Now that I have an anchor, I feel calmer, but I’m still embarrassed by how deep the panic has lodged.
When I was younger, I thought that if I could’ve just toughed it out, maybe I would’ve been saved some heartache.
But once my mom saw what a wreck I was after the amusement park, she snapped.
What were you thinking? Ever since you moved out, it’s like you don’t even know her.
Meanwhile, I retreated deeper into myself.
I squeeze Roland’s hand and shut out the memories. “Let’s do this.”
The cameras follow us as we walk up to the Ferris wheel. Roland’s hand is warm in mine, and despite the man attached to it, it calms me enough that I stop shaking.
Roland steps into the car and sits down, pulling me onto the bench next to him. Throwing her long hair over her shoulder, Addison slides in opposite us and crosses her legs so her foot is brushing Roland’s thigh. She never quits—I’ll give her that.
As the seat belts click into place, I throw one last look at the producers.
Lainey gives me a brief nod, and my chest flushes.
I’m not the first woman to be put in this position—Love Shack’s history of exploiting women’s fears is longer than Taylor Swift’s discography—and I won’t be the last. But for now, I’ve won Lainey’s approval.
The feeling of triumph lasts about two microseconds before the wheel starts up, and nausea rushes through me. I grip the waist belt, but it’s not sturdy enough and the next thing my hand finds is Roland’s thigh.
He covers my hand with his own. “It’s going to be okay,” he says gently.
I force myself to look at him, to focus on anything but the anxiety raging through my body. The wheel creaks to a halt at the top of its arc with a jolt. After a minute, the rocking slows until we’re almost still. At least until Roland adjusts in his seat and puts his arm around my shoulders.
I let out a little shriek and bury my face in his shirt, my throat squeezing painfully in fear.
“Jesus,” Addison mutters. I almost feel bad for her—it can’t be easy to watch the man you’re dating cuddle another woman. “Get a room.”
Roland ignores her and bends his head over mine.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs. “Come on, look at the view.”
This is just about the worst thing he could say, save for Hey, let’s jump into the ocean! Right now! The view is the whole issue—the fact that we’re a hundred feet off the ground, ideally poised to die at any second.
He pulls at my chin, and I peek my head out. “Deep breaths, okay?” he says quietly.
I keep my eyes locked on his as I take a few slow breaths.
I hate to admit it, but he is a comforting presence.
After a few seconds, I chance a look beyond him; the view really is quite nice.
The ocean spreads below us, rippling quietly.
Ahead, the sun bathes the whole scene in clementine hues just a few shades brighter than my shirt.
“Are those…” I point to the dark storm clouds hovering on the horizon.
“Don’t worry about that,” Roland says quickly, leaning forward to block my view.
The remote-operated cameras attached to the sides of the cart swivel as he gets back to regularly scheduled programming.
“I’m so glad we have this chance to talk,” he begins.
I still think those are storm clouds, but I try to focus on the conversation.
“I know things have been tense between you two.”
Have they, though? Sure, sending a tennis ball flying at someone’s face isn’t exactly a sign of friendship, but I thought we’d moved past that.
“Georgia,” he says. There’s a small crease between his eyes, not unlike the one that seems to be permanently etched into Rhett’s face.
My mouth goes dry. Am I being sent home?
But if so, what an inconvenient place to break up with someone, unless he plans on hedging until we get back to the ground.
Or making out with Addison and completely ignoring me. Or pushing me off the—
“Do you think Addison hurt you on purpose during tennis last week?”
“Is that what this is about?” I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “I mean, yeah, I do. But I’m over it, trust me.”
“I just feel really hurt that you’d think that of me,” Addison says. “I’m a feminist. I would never hurt another woman like that.”
I blink at her, and all the cameras turn to face me. “That’s not even what femini—”
“But clearly you’re not the same,” she interrupts. “You pushed me while we were playing.”
“No, I didn’t,” I splutter. “I could barely keep up, let alone—”
Roland lays a hand on my knee, and I go quiet. Inside, I’m fuming, but I let him take charge of the conversation.
“I see a future with both of you.”
“Hopefully not at the same time,” Addison scoffs.
“But I have a hard decision to make.” He pauses and my mind fixates on the chapter in my Love Shack prep book about two-on-one dates.
Only one can survive.
It has to be me. I haven’t found anything meaningful to report back to Serena aside from a few cruel snippets from Lainey. If I leave now, our chances of a mind-boggling exposé will be gone.
“I want both of you to stay into next week,” Roland says. My stomach unclenches, and Addison leans her head back, exhaling through her red lips. “But I need to know you can get along.”
“If we’re going to be sister wives, we better try,” Addison mutters.
“Of course,” I say. “No problem.”
“I know this journey is unconventional,” Roland says. “But I really believe my wife is here.”
My chest expands with relief, even though I should be disappointed by the clichéd line.
But Roland can give me all the clichés he wants, as long as he gives me more time.
If I’m sent home without any more intel, I’ll be kissing more than America’s Most Eligible Bachelor goodbye.
The full-time job at Vivid will be off the table and I’ll be right back to where I started.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say something else, so I glance at the cameras, like they could help me.
“I think we should be heading back down…” Roland peers over the side of the cart, sending it jostling, and I grab onto the rail beside me. It doesn’t help that when I look out at the horizon, the sky is dotted with dark clouds.
Suddenly, there’s a screeching that makes Addison cover her ears. Norbert’s voice blasts over a bullhorn. “I’m afraid to tell ye that the wheel is stuck!” His cheerful accent does nothing to stop my stomach from plummeting. “I’m climbing up!” he shouts. He doesn’t even need the bullhorn.
“NO!” Lainey doesn’t need it either.
I tune them out as I grip the side of the cart tighter and try to focus on my breathing.