I was in desperate need of French fries. My stomach heaved with each bounce of the van as we sped towards Manhattan, early on Saturday morning. I was crammed in the back between Lorna and Andrea, and even though the A/C was blasting up front, it was barely reaching us. I was sweating like a pig, totally nauseous and so not in the mood to listen to everyone celebrate the big ratings and success of the premiere last night.

We were heading into the city to film three romantic one-on-one dates with the girls of his choice. Sweet, southern Savannah had been one of them, which in my opinion, showed Dash’s good taste, but Brittany—she of the waterlogged cat-fight—had been another, which indicated the opposite of good taste. Sure, Brittany hadn’t started the fight, but she had still pulled Penny’s extensions out with a ferocity that had scared the shit out of me. Part of me hoped that her being chosen had been the result of some maneuvering on Andrea’s part, not because Dash was so enamored with her. The third girl was a quiet sort—Michelle—and I was surprised that she had been chosen, because while she was pretty, she had done a pretty good job staying out of the spotlight. It seemed like an unusual choice for a show so focused on drama.

Not like any of it mattered to me. I was there to keep an eye on Savannah, and get sound bites during our one-on-one interviews. I was there to get her to spill about how much she liked Dash.

Yep. There came that nausea again, only this time, I was pretty sure it wasn’t from the car ride.

“I’m shocked he didn’t pick Kimmie,” Lorna was saying. “It seemed like the two of them were hitting it off.”

“No way.” Justin shook his head. “I don’t see it.”

He was sitting in the seat in front of us, but was turned around, chatting animatedly with Andrea.

“I think she came on a little too strong,” Andrea laughed. “She pulled the old ‘trench coat and heels at the hotel room trick’ on him.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s always one every season.”

My stomach turned over.

“Did it work?” Lorna asked.

Andrea shook her head and I relaxed.

“You think I’d let something like that happen on my watch?” Andrea snorted. “We all know that if any romance is going down, it’s going to happen on camera or not at all.”

I didn’t know whether I should be grossed out or relieved. I settled for being both at the same time.

“Two hundred bucks that Savannah’s in the top two,” Justin said. “She’s got all the wife-making material.”

“She’s a strong contender,” Andrea agreed. “But Michelle was an interesting choice. Hopefully we can get something camera-worthy out of her on this date. She might surprise us all.” She rubbed her hands together. “Or we’ll make her surprise us.”

Lorna shook her head. “I still think Kimmie is going to be in the top two.”

“Care to bet on that?” Justin asked, his eyes twinkling.

“I don’t have two hundred dollars,” Lorna flirted back. “Can we bet something else?”

Andrea groaned. “Keep it in your pants, you two,” she ordered. “It’s hard enough watching the contestants drool over the suitor, I don’t want to watch my crew doing it to each other.”

Lorna blushed hotly, but Justin just grinned. I leaned my head back and tried to ignore everyone. It worked, and I even managed to catch a little sleep before we stopped for gas an hour or so outside of the city.

Eager for fresh air and a respite from the van, I got out and stretched my legs. Just as I was bending over to touch my toes, Dash’s limo pulled up and he got out.

“Best greeting I’ve ever gotten,” he teased, freely ogling my ass.

I straightened and gave him the finger. He just smiled at me. And dammit if that smile didn’t make me weak in the knees. But I headed into the convenience store, hoping against hope that they had French fries.

They didn’t, but I grabbed some anti-nausea pills and a soda, and went back outside, steeling myself for the remainder of the ride into the city, crammed into the van. But Andrea was standing by the limo and waved me over. She had her huge production notebook—the one that was filled with all the details for the city dates—and was looking unusually frazzled.

When I walked over, she shoved the notebook into my arms.

“I need you to brief Dash,” she told me. “I would do it, but I have some fires to put out.”

“Uh,” I stammered. The last thing I wanted was to be alone in a limo with Dash, but Andrea narrowed her eyes at me.

“That’s not going to be a problem, is it?” she demanded. “I thought you had all of that under control.”

I pulled myself together. “It won’t be a problem at all,” I told her with more confidence than I felt. “I’ll get him up to speed so we can hit the ground running when we arrive in the city.”

Andrea relaxed a little. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” Her phone buzzed and she looked at the screen and let out a stream of very creative curse words, ending with: “spineless, arrogant mother fucker!”

She strode back to the van, leaving me standing by the limo. I watched them pull away, catching a glimpse of Justin and Lorna through the window. Lorna gave me a little wave, but Justin didn’t do anything, just stared at me with a strange look on his face. Like he knew something was up.

“I think your ride just left without you,” Dash said, coming up behind me.

“Unfortunately, you’re my ride,” I told him, yanking the limo door open. “Get in.”

“I love a woman who takes charge,” he teased, climbing into the limo.

I rolled my eyes and followed him. Immediately I forgot why I had been so reluctant to switch cars. The limo was much, much nicer than the van. It was cool and quiet, the windows tinted and the plush seats long enough for me to take a nap if I wanted. Not that I had time for a nap now. I hoisted the huge notebook onto my lap and opened it.

“OK,” I told him as the limo started up. It was even smoother than the van. No more bumps or sick stomachs. “We have a lot to go over before we get to the city.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Dash was leaning back against the seat, his hands folded behind his head. “Let’s talk about that. Let’s definitely not enjoy this moment together. The two of us. Alone.”

I shot him a glare. “This was not my idea,” I told him.

“Too bad,” he said. “Because it’s a great one. I’ve been hoping to get you alone since I saw you the first day.”

“Oh, you mean when you pulled me into a closet without any warning?” I asked sweetly.

“Yep.” He grinned. “Exactly.”

“I don’t have time for this,” I told him. “And neither do you. There’s a lot you need to know about the dates tonight.”

He sobered. “You really want to talk about that?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I informed him. “This is my job. Unlike some people, I actually need one, so I’m not about to go screw it up.”

Dash didn’t say anything for a moment, and when I looked up, I found that he was staring out the window. There were so many things I wanted to ask him—I wanted to know what the hell he was doing in this competition. What he wanted from me. But I couldn’t ask any of those things. Because I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to hear the answers.

“OK,” I told him. “So your first date is with Savannah.”

“She seems nice,” he said, still not looking at me.

“She is nice,” I responded.

He glanced over at me. “But is she nice because you told her to be nice, or because she’s actually nice?”

“I’m not telling her to be anything,” I retorted. “That’s not what I’m here to do.”

“No?” he raised an eyebrow. “I thought that’s what all you production people did. Tell us on-air talent how to act towards each other. What to say. Who to choose.”

“No one forced you to be on this show,” I shot back, annoyed. “So don’t judge me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t judge me,” he responded, his tone light but strained. “You don’t know why I’m doing the show.”

I thought I did. If Andrea and the others were correct, then Dash was doing this for fame. For attention. Yet, I couldn’t help noticing that even though he was playing along with everything the production was throwing at him, he didn’t seem to be seeking the camera out or making plays to get more screen time. I saw his footage. He was pleasant when interviewed while in the hot seat, but didn’t offer more than was required of him.

“Why don’t you explain it to me, then?” I closed the notebook and folded my hands on top of it. “Enlighten me.”

Dash glanced down and then back up at my face. He looked more serious than I’d ever seen him before, and he let out a long breath.

“My manager stole all my money and disappeared,” he finally said.

It wasn’t what I had expected him to say. At all.

“Oh.” It was the only thing I could manage.

“Yep.” He looked out the window, and I could see the tension in his jaw. “It was everything I had earned and saved while racing. Gone. Doing this show will let me keep up the search for that bastard, and keep supporting my parents until we find him. I don’t what them to know I’m in financial trouble. Not until I’ve fixed it.”

He was supporting his folks? Suddenly, I was looking at Dash in a totally new light. OK, sure, he was still the cocky, arrogant guy that had women fawning over him no matter what he did, but he obviously really cared about his family. And I understood why he didn’t want to tell them. I knew exactly about that type of pride. It was the same pride that had me rushing to the Hamptons in the rain with a total stranger, all so I could take a job that would keep me off my sister’s couch. I didn’t want my family’s charity, or their pity.

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me,” Dash said quietly, and I realized that I hadn’t really responded to his confession. “But it’s the truth. If there was another way I could get the money, I’d do it.”

“I believe you,” I sighed, and then paused. “You couldn’t come out of retirement and go back to racing?”

“No.” The answer was flat and indicated that it wasn’t a matter he was willing to discuss any further. Obviously there was something there, but it was probably enough honesty for the day. For both of us.

We spent the rest of the ride into Manhattan in silence, while I tried to reconcile this new information with everything I’d thought I knew about Dash. Which was apparently not very much at all.

The minute the limo pulled into the hotel, Dash was whisked away to get ready for his whirlwind day of three dates, one after another. I had some time to check on Savannah, who was getting ready for her slot.

Lorna and I were sharing a standard room on the bottom floor, while Savannah, Dash, and the other two girls had really gorgeous suites that overlooked Central Park. While Savannah changed into her dress for the date, I stared out over the city, not sure about how I felt about anything anymore.

I had started Ever After thinking that it would be exciting and fun, and a great way into the industry, or at least into steady work. Now I wasn’t so convinced that this was the place I wanted to be. Nor was Dash the person I’d thought he was.

“How do I look?” Savannah asked me, coming out of the bedroom section of her suite.

Her gorgeous blonde hair was curled in ringlets down her back while she was wearing a sexy little black dress and strappy heels. It was clear that it was not an outfit she felt very comfortable in, as she kept pulling on the hem.

“You look great,” I answered honestly. “But you don’t seem to like it.”

“It’s beautiful,” she told me, looking at herself in the mirror. “It’s just . . . it’s just not me.” She turned around and looked over her shoulder at her reflection, frowning. “What would my students think if they watched the show?”

Savannah was an elementary school teacher, so I doubted—I hoped—that her students weren’t part of the Ever After viewing audience, but I got the feeling that it wasn’t just her students she was worried about.

“Are there any other options?” I asked.

“There are.” Savannah glanced back into the bedroom. “But Andrea suggested that wearing this dress would impress Dash more. That he needed to see a new side of my personality.”

I knew exactly what “side” of Savannah’s personality Andrea was hoping Dash would be interested in. So far he hadn’t kissed any of the girls and it was driving production crazy. They needed drama AND romance. So far, they’d gotten only one piece of the fucked up puzzle that seemed to be the Ever After brand.

“I think you should wear what you feel comfortable in,” I told her, not sure if I was saying that because I was looking out for Savannah, or because I was still feeling those annoying twinges of jealousy any time I thought of Dash becoming interested in Savannah.

“Really?” she asked me, her blue eyes wide. “Are you sure Andrea won’t be mad?”

“I’ll deal with Andrea,” I said, sounding way more confident than I felt. I doubted anyone dealt with Andrea.

But the relief on Savannah’s face made me feel a little bit better about the stand I might have to take. She scurried back into the bedroom, and within a few minutes was back, wearing a pretty sundress that was still flattering, but wasn’t showing most of her thighs, back, and boobs. Immediately she seemed more at ease.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her.

“A little nervous,” she confessed.

“You’ll do great.” I tried to be encouraging.

“I don’t know.” She turned to me. “I don’t get the sense that Dash is actually interested in me. Or in any of the girls.”

“Oh?” I tried to sound casual.

“He’s polite and nice,” Savannah was saying. “But he hasn’t made a move on any of us.”

“Maybe he’s just shy.” I lied my ass off, unsure how I got it out without laughing at how ridiculous that statement was.

But Savannah seemed to buy it. “You think so?”

“Mmhmm.” I had to bite my lip, and I nodded.

“What should I do then?” Savannah wanted to know.

She looked at me with those wide eyes, so innocent, so trusting. I knew exactly what Andrea would have told her to do. She would have told Savannah to be more aggressive, to go after Dash. I did not do what Andrea would have done.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” I said. “Obviously it’s working, or else he wouldn’t have chosen you to go on this date tonight.”

Savannah beamed, and I felt like a jerk because I knew I wasn’t protecting Savannah. I wasn’t even helping her succeed in the competition. I was keeping her away from something that wasn’t even mine.

I sent her off on the date, and went to join the rest of the crew. All of the one-on-ones were happening at New York landmarks. The first one had been at the Statue of Liberty, Savannah’s was a walk along the Brooklyn Bridge, and the last date was happening at the Empire State Building. Whatever Andrea’s flaws, she definitely had an eye for the dramatic.

The production had closed down the top viewing deck, and when I stepped out, the wind was blowing briskly. It was cold for a summer night, but then again, we were way up in the air. My hair kept flying in my face, and I was sure I’d find that my curls had been doing their rather impressive impression of someone who had just been electrocuted. Very attractive.

Everyone was ready for Dash and Michelle to arrive, but when the elevator came up to the floor and opened with a ding, it was Andrea standing there with Dash instead.

“The bitch quit!” Andrea fumed, storming out of the elevator, her face red.

“What?” Justin asked.

“Michelle quit! And she didn’t even have the guts to say it to my face—she left a note with the front desk saying that she was going back to Ohio, or Idaho, or wherever the hell she came from.” Andrea paced the deck. “No exit interview, no messy tears, nothing!”

“Dammit,” one of our camera guys said. “What do we do now?”

“Pack up,” Andrea barked. “And get the fuck out of here.”

The crew began gathering their equipment. I was of no help to them, so I tried to keep out of their way, moving closer to the railing, and staring out at the city. It was beautiful and quiet up here.

“Nice view,” Dash said, coming over to stand next to me.

Immediately I pulled off my headset, and I gave him a once-over, checking to make sure he wasn’t mic’d. I didn’t want to make Andrea more suspicious than she already was.

“How’d your dates go?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He gave me a look. “Is that really what you want to talk about?”

I shrugged, trying to give the appearance of not caring. We fell into a moment of silence. I tried to look at the city and not at him, but it was hard because he looked so fricking delicious. He was wearing a black suit that fit him perfectly, the jacket open and the top two buttons of his shirt undone, giving me just a tiny peek of the chest that I’d had so much fun touching back in Pittsburgh.

“It’s a shame,” I finally said.

“What is?” Dash wanted to know.

“Wasting all of this.” I gestured toward the crew members who were packing up the last few things and heading towards the elevator. “Wasting a romantic moment.”

“Huh,” Dash said, and I turned to him.

“What?” I asked, somewhat defensively. I couldn’t help it, he seemed to bring out that side of me lately.

“I just never pegged you for a romantic.” Dash reached out and pushed a strand of my hair back behind my ear.

I shivered at his touch, but I wasn’t cold. I wasn’t cold at all.

“You don’t know me,” I told him, but the statement came out breathy and seductive.

A smile spread across Dash’s face. A slow, sexy smile.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t know you.” He stepped closer to me. “But I’d like to.”

I was feeling very, very hot now.

“What do you say?” he asked, shooting a glance over at the crew. “Want to ditch the cameras and play hooky with me for the night?”

I shouldn’t. It was putting everything at risk, and I still wasn’t sure if Dash was just in it for the chase. I should have turned him down immediately. But something stopped me, that flicker of temptation. I looked out on the city, and then back at him, my heart suddenly racing.

“Let’s do it,” I said.