That familiarity is somewhat soothing. Despite how it turned out, I can see that they were both trying to help me in their own way.
Lulu looks nervous, fidgeting with her hair, smoothing it out, and then running a hand down the front of her button-down shirt. Marshall is speaking to her in a low voice, pointing at his tablet and then pointing to a camera.
In the chair across from us, Cleo Hartwell sits in all her statuesque glory, a veritable golden goddess among us. A make-up artist is brushing powder across her nose. She looks as calm and collected as always.
When we’d reached out toAlpha Love Getawayto propose this, they’d all but jumped at the opportunity and been willing to give us every one of our demands. Including having Lulu, Marshall and Cleo Hartwell fly to Granton to conduct the interview.
They’ll finally get the final confessional I refused to give them when I left the show.
The producer gives me a tight smile. “This would have been so much easier if you’d been willing to do this months ago. Or at the reunion. Or you know, any time before this.”
I shrug, while my pack lets out low warning growls. Our bond is still new, still settling and they have a hard time when anyone is even remotely rude to me. But this is pretty par for the course for Lulu, so I push a flood of calm in their direction.
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t have been ready back then.”
“And this is going to be one of the most watched episodes ofAlpha Love Getawayin the history of the show,” Court says, sounding completely sure of that statement.
Lulu hums, but she can’t deny what he’s said.
It will likely be watched by millions of people. It's the only thing we could think to do to help Elizabeth from halfway across the world.
Cleo chuckles. “That’s true, Lulu darling. The buzz is near deafening.”
“I know.” The producer sighs like the thought of that is distressing. “I suppose we should get this started, shouldn’t we?”
The room shifts.
No one moves, no lights change, but something settles all the same. Conversations taper off. Cleo straightens in her chair, Marshall and Lulu step back behind the monitors, and the makeup artist disappears as though she was never there at all.
A quiet falls over the set, thick with anticipation.
I take a slow breath, grounding myself in the feel of them around me. Thayer’s hand is warm on my thigh. Forsythe’s knee presses against mine. Piers close enough that I can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. Grieves and Court flanking us like immovable pillars.
My pack.
Not a possibility anymore.
A fact.
Somewhere off to the side, someone calls, “We’re live in five.”
My pulse kicks, sharp and immediate, but I don’t let it spiral. I’ve done this before. Not like this. But I know what it means to sit under the weight of a camera, to have the world watching and waiting for you to say the wrong thing.
Only this time, I’m not alone.
This time my pack won’t let me fall, literally or figuratively.
“Three… two…”
A red light blinks on.
Cleo’s spine straightens almost imperceptibly as the red light flickers on, her expression settling into something practiced and effortless.
“Good evening,” she says, her voice warm and steady, the kind that fills a room without ever needing to rise. “I’m Cleo Hartwell, and tonight’s episode ofAlpha Love Getaway is… a little different.”
A faint smile curves her lips, a bit knowing, a bit smug.
“Over the course of the last season, millions of you watched what was meant to be a search for love unfold into something far more complicated. What began as a courtship became a controversy, then a scandal… and, for some, something much more personal.”
