Lily gave me a look. ‘Murray.’
‘I know, I know. You don’t have to tell me.’
‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘I haven’t decided,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to cut Amanda yet. She and the Romeo have a lovely, warm little dynamic. It wouldn’t make narrative sense to lose her. Plus, if I can get a romance B-plot out of her, then…’
‘Which you obviously can!’ Lily said. ‘I know you’re married to this idea of girl-Dylan winning for some reason, but come on. You’ve got the building blocks of something great there. Exactly the kind of B-plot you want. A backup love story, even – if boy-Dylan doesn’t find someone he likes, you can make Amanda and girl-Dylan the A-plot.’
‘Look, yes, it’s obvious that Amanda likes Dylan G. But there’s no evidence to suggest that Dylan G likes her back. Or that she even likes women, full stop.’
‘You obviously haven’t been through much of the day two footage, then. I went for Amanda’s throat during the group date card reveal. The way girl-Dylan practically dove in front of her to take the bullet…’ Lily made a heart sign with her fingers.
‘I told you to back off Dylan G.’
‘I did! Until she came at me, anyway. Like I said, I went for Amanda. Girl-Dylan’s the one who rode in on her white steed to save the damsel in distress.’
‘That doesn’t mean she’s into her. Friends do that kind of shit for each other all the time.’
A micro-expression flitted across Lily’s face so fast I couldn’t register what it was. ‘Why are you so determined to shove the two Dylans together anyway? It doesn’t make any sense.’
I didn’t reply.
‘I know you’re still furious with me, Murray, but surely all those years of being partners entitles me to an answer.’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Because you don’t have a reason?’
I stayed silent.
‘You always have a reason.’
She looked at me closely. ‘But you’d always tell me. No matter how pissed off at me you were, you’d tell me.’
I kept everything – everything – off my face.
But there was no fooling Lily Ong.
‘You signed an NDA,’ she said.
I finished my lukewarm decaf.
‘A-ha,’ she said. ‘What can’t you disclose?’
‘I’m not going to tell you. That’s the whole point of a non-disclosure agreement.’
‘Fine. I’ll guess.’
It took her – conservatively – a second and a half to put it together.
‘You rigged it,’ she said, pointing her finger at me. ‘You rigged the season.’
‘Note that I have not disclosed one single thing to you. Do you want another coffee?’
She nudged her coffee cup across the table to me. ‘Yes or no. Have both Dylans also signed NDAs?’
I turned my back on her and flicked the kettle in the corner of the room on.
