Chad and Sara Claire talk for a while, reminiscing over the villa and her first big date earlier in the season.
“Are you okay?” Sierra asks. “You look like you’re way in your head. Like you could be in a Stephen King novel kind of in-your-head moment.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her.
“Famous last words.”
“Well, before we bring Henry back out,” Chad says, “let’s check in with Addison.”
Addison preens and sits up, pushing her shoulders back and her chest out.
“Addison,” Chad says. “How are you?”
She flips her long hair over her shoulder as she lets out a soft sigh. “I’m just so heartbroken for Henry. I know that he’s got some healing to do, and that he and I have had our share of trials and tribulations, but true love is worth fighting for. So I’m here, Chad, and I’m fighting. I’m fighting a hell of a lot harder than Cindy ever did, because she was never here for Henry to begin with. We all know it. All Cindy cared about was getting her name out there. But I’m not here for fame, Chad. I’m here for Henry.”
“Turn it off,” I say as I jump out of bed, scrambling to search for the remote. Red-hot anger pulses through my veins. How dare she say that? “I can’t afford to replace this TV if I break it. We have to turn it off.”
“I’m on it! I’m on it!” Sierra springs to action and runs right for the outlet, pulling the plug completely. “It’s off,” she says, holding the plug up in her fist.
I let out a shaky sigh. “Okay, okay, I’m fine.”
We both fling ourselves back onto the bed. “What now?” I ask.
“Room service?” Sierra offers.
“I hear the sweet potato fries are good. And ask for a side of vanilla glaze.”
She rolls over and reaches for the phone on the nightstand. “You got it.”
As I’m lying there, listening to Sierra place her very detailed and extensive order, my phone rings.
I let it go to voicemail. I can’t right now.
Sierra hangs up and in her most serious voice says, “I really hope you don’t have to pay for all the food I just ordered.”
“Gossamer is footing the bill. It can’t be more than the most expensive private lunch of all time I had earlier today.”
“Is that a challenge?” she asks.
My phone begins to ring again, and this time I sit up to answer. Maybe it’s an emergency. “Everyone I know is watching this show—”
“Could be about the job,” Sierra says.
“Yeah, at ten o’clock at night.”
“Fashion never sleeps.”
I look down to see Beck’s name lighting up my screen. “Hello?” I ask into the phone. “Beck?”
“Where is he?” she asks. “Do you know where he is? Has he tried to call you?”
“Has who? What’s going on?”
“Are you literally the only American not watching this damn show right now? Henry is gone. He’s MIA. The suitor is missing. I repeat: The suitor is missing.”
I gasp. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Sierra asks.
