“What is it you’re hoping is going to happen?” I asked. Somehow, I’d have to tip off Doug without Alan knowing. If he’d walk away long enough for me to text Doug, everything would be simple, and I’d still be in control of this thing. “When I agreed to this, I didn’t plan on filming a soap opera. I have my limits, Alan.”
He grinned. “I’m very familiar with your limits. Calm down. This is all preliminary. All I want is a few minutes of the two of you alone, going through the contestants. Build the relationship like we talked about. You’re dangling a carrot stick and waiting for the shy rabbit to nibble.”
“I will not humiliate him.”
“Of course, not. If nothing interesting happens we’ll throw away the footage.” Alan stared me down, trusting I’d cave. Doug was my pick, after all. I’d stupidly agreed to this, thinking it was better if I brought on someone I could trust. Yes, it was safer, but had this agreement ever been safe?
“Fine. Hurry and get me a mic so we can all go home.”
Alan brought over his favorite assistant, and they swapped out the very obvious microphone I’d worn on my dress all day for a tiny one that slid underneath. Across the auditorium, Doug was being delayed with questions, and I could see the fatigue hitting him.
He finally left, along with everyone else, and I sat at the desk, flipping through the piles of contestant photos, waiting for whatever trickery would send him back in here. I pulled at the bike shorts under my dress, tugging them down. They were uncomfortable, but I refused to wear these tiny dresses without them.
As stealthily as possible, I dug my phone out of my purse and texted Doug below the desk:Fake convo now
Would he understand what I meant? Would he even see the message in time?
I gathered up the pictures and the notes, assuming someone would come back for them once Doug and I had left. Oscar, the New York sandwich guy’s photo, was on top. He’d made it into the top twenty-five despite Justin’s resistance.
Shuffling feet behind me meant time was up. I didn’t know if Doug had seen my text and I couldn’t ask.
“Hey, Willa,” Doug sounded a little defeated. He took the chair next to me. “Why are these still out? I thought everything was decided?”
I yawned. “It is. I have to stop looking at these.”
“Alan sent me to tell you to go home already. Security wants to close up.”
Maybe Doug did get my text. I didn’t even have to ask why he’d come in here. I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder, suddenly feeling less on edge. “This thing premiers next week. Can you believe it?”
Doug ran a hand up and down my forearm, and I immediately broke out in goosebumps. The guy could simultaneously invoke comfort and stir up the butterflies in my stomach with one touch.
He nudged me with his chin. “We should talk about the other night at my apartment.”
That had me sitting up quick. He obviously didn’t get my text or he’d know how that would sound to America. I covered his mouth with my hand. “No. Not here.” I didn’t glance at the cameras, but I hoped the panic in my expression was enough of a sign for him to knock it off. He only looked hurt and moved my hand.
“I know this isn’t r—”
I did the only thing that would immediately shut him up. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.Alan, eat your heart out.
In his shock, it was just his frozen lips against mine, his eyes wide open. Not the most romantic thing ever, and the stress of the situation had a nervous laugh bubbling out of me as I pulled away. I grabbed his hand and my purse, carting him from his chair. “It’s been a long day. We’re going home.”
His eyes widened even further.
“I mean, I’m going to my house and you’re going to yours. Have you seen the assistant taking care of Dot? I bet she wants to go home, too. I named my dog. You can stop lecturing me about that now.” I was babbling, but it was better than letting Doug spill the beans. We’d be having a firm discussion later about what we could and couldn’t say in that building.
Doug
Fake convo now
I sat in my Lexus and stared at the message and the time stamp next to it. Wow, I really was an idiot. Everything Willa had said and done now made sense. And our embarrassing first kiss was suddenly ten times more embarrassing. There was no way Alan wouldn’t use that footage. Sadly, I was more embarrassed about Willa experiencing it than I was about everyone in America seeing it.
I wasn’t even home before she called. Though strongly tempted to not answer, I picked up my phone from the console and accepted the call. I needed to act casual. “Quite the performance, Willa. Let me guess, we’re dealing with secret cameras now?”
“I’m sorry. You were about to tell everyone it wasn’t real and you can’t say that. Ever. We shouldn’t even say it over the phone anymore. From here on out, this is a genuine workplace romance. Don’t talk to me about anything personal on set unless it’s something you’re okay with saying on camera.”
“Perfect.” I yawned. “And now that I have five hours before they chain me back to the desk, I don’t want to talk about the show anymore.”
“No desk tomorrow. Remember? Bootcamp starts for the top twenty. Choreography and learning lines. They’ll throw us into the mix. It will be fun.”
