While Silas trudges forward like a man heading to jury duty, Daisy dances onto the stage.
She twirls. She blows kisses.
And then—of course—she trips over her own feet.
Silas doesn’t even flinch.
With lightning-fast reflexes, he reaches out, grabs her by the waist, and sets her upright again as if she weighs nothing—without even taking his other hand out of his pocket.
The female half of the audience collectively gasps so hard the temperature drops two degrees.
“He’s only here because his six-year-old daughter signed him up without telling him,” Sloane whispers, amused. “And because he needs the prize money for the new wing of his clinic.”
“And her?”
“She’s his assistant. And a professional chaos generator. She drives him insane.”
I watch Silas shake his head while Daisy fusses with the collar of his shirt, and he catches her hand gently—firm, but weirdly soft about it.
“He looks like he wants to strangle her,” I note.
“Or kiss her just to get her to stop moving,” Sloane corrects. “The audience is going to lose their minds over the Grumpy Single Dad trope. They’re our biggest competition in the romance category. We need to watch our backs, Becker.”
Couple #8: THE LOVE BIRDS (Joe & Sarah)
Entrance Music:“Sugar”by Maroon 5
Nino announces the second-to-last couple with a level of enthusiasm that immediately pisses me off.
Up on stage walks a guy with “perfect son-in-law” stamped all over his face.
Joe.
Perfectly combed brown hair, a pastel sweater draped over his shoulders, and a blinding smile that basically screams trust me.
Clinging to his arm like a koala on a eucalyptus branch is Sarah.
Petite brunette, floral dress stretched tight over surgically enhanced curves, and an expression of smug triumph I instantly hate.
They stroll to center stage, waving like they invented love itself.
I feel Sloane’s hand tense in mine.
It’s not a normal squeeze.
It’s a jolt.
Her fingers go icy, rigid—stone.
I turn to look at her.
She’s not watching the crowd.
She’s staring at Joe.
Her face is frozen.
Completely blank.
