I had never been so embarrassed in my life. Dash and I grabbed our clothes, pulling them on as quickly as we could. At least I had a variety of wrinkled black clothing to choose from—Dash only had his tuxedo from last night. As soon as we opened the door, as soon as anyone saw him, there would be absolutely no mistaking what had happened between us.

But Andrea already knew what had happened.

I braced myself for a moment before opening the door. My boss stood there, arms crossed, expression stormy. She didn’t even look at me, her eyes going directly to Dash, who was still tucking his shirt into his tuxedo pants.

“We need you on set,” she snapped. “Now.”

Dash gave me a sympathetic look before hurrying out the door. I didn’t blame him; if I could, I would have gotten the hell out of there too.

“Andrea,” I started. “I can explain—”

But she held up her hand.

“I don’t have time for explanations,” she said, suddenly looking very tired. “I needed you to do your job. I need you to do your job.”

“I can,” I assured her. “I will.”

Andrea didn’t say anything else, just turned on her heels and left. I was left alone, not knowing how I should feel about everything that had just happened. Part of me was still asleep, still curled up in Dash’s arms, kissing him deeply. I gave myself a mental slap and went to take a fast, cold shower.

When I arrived on set less than a half hour later, my wet hair tied up in a bun, my clothes as wrinkled as always, I went immediately to the craft table to get some much needed coffee. I was certain that this time the weird looks I saw weren’t in my imagination and weren’t the result of an overheard argument between Andrea and Patrick.

I focused on work. That was all I could do. I didn’t know what Andrea was going to do with the information she had gained that morning. It wasn’t until hours later that I finally ran into my boss.

“Can we talk?” I asked her, hoping that I could explain. Hoping that she wouldn’t fire me—or Dash.

Andrea gave me a look. “You have ten minutes,” she told me, gesturing for me to join her in the viewing tent. All around us were screens showing Dash with the other contestants. It wasn’t the best view for this conversation.

If Andrea noticed, she didn’t seem to care, turning to face me with her arms crossed.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” I started, but Andrea shook her head.

“Spare me,” she said. “You think you’re the first crew member to get involved with the talent? You’re not even the first person in this room to have made that mistake.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve been around the industry for a while. I know guys like Dash. I know that they seem sweet and good, but in the end, the only kind of person who comes on a show like this is someone who’s in it for the fame and the money.”

I held my tongue.

“I’m not upset,” Andrea told me. “I’m disappointed.”

That felt way worse than her being mad at me.

“I’ve been where you are.” She closed her eyes for a second, remembering. “Almost exactly where you are. Only I didn’t have someone telling me what I’m telling you. I had to figure out how to get out of that mess myself. I had to learn the hard way that you need to put yourself first. Especially if you want a career in this business.”

“I do,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure anymore.

“Then take my advice,” Andrea said, pointing at the screen. “Remember that this is what America will be seeing.”

It was footage I hadn’t seen. Footage from last night at the gala. Footage of Dash and Savannah. They were in a dark corner of the ballroom, with Dash nuzzling at Savannah’s neck. Then he was kissing her.

I felt sick. He kissed her, and then came to me as if it hadn’t even happened.

“If you think that someone like Dash is going to give up a million-dollar wedding special with the girl everyone in the country is falling in love with, just so he can screw around with you, well, you are going to be sorely disappointed, my dear,” Andrea told me.

On screen, Dash and Savannah were still kissing, his hand on her waist, her palm against his chest. Exactly where mine had been that morning. I was pretty sure I might throw up.

“I like you.” Andrea’s voice cut through the misery that was building up inside of me. “And I need an assistant when I head back to LA. The job is yours if you want it. If you can make it through the season.”

I tore my eyes away from the monitors.

“Can I think about it?” I asked Andrea.

She nodded, but I could tell it wasn’t the answer she wanted.

I walked out of the tent in a fog, not sure what the hell was going on in my life anymore. What did I want?

I was so distracted by my thoughts that I didn’t even see Dash until I literally walked into him, almost toppling us both over. His hands came up to steady me, and that simple touch made my knees wobble. Even seeing him kissing Savannah hadn’t dimmed this primal reaction I had to him.

“Hey.” Dash had a big grin on his face—one I couldn’t return.

“I need to go,” I told him, trying to push past, but he wouldn’t let me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his hand still on my arm.

“I’m working.” I kept my voice low, aware that there were people around us.

He seemed to finally realize that as well, and gave one of the curious crew members a quick nod of his head, as if to say “scram.” Amazingly it worked, and Dash pulled me into the wardrobe truck, which was empty.

“What’s going on?” He let go of me and folded his arms across that amazing chest of his.

“I saw what you were doing last night.” The words spilled out of me before I could stop them.

“I was doing you last night,” Dash reminded me, a wicked twinkle in his eye.

I blushed. “Before that,” I snapped, angry that he was still trying to flirt. “I saw the footage of you and Savannah. Of the two of you kissing.”

Dash’s amused expression dissolved immediately.

“That was for the cameras,” he said, his voice serious. “It’s a job, Paige. That’s all.”

“It didn’t look like a job.” I hated how jealous I sounded. “It looked like you were having a good time.”

Dash ran a hand through his hair.

“This is ridiculous,” he finally said. “I can’t do this anymore.”

So that was that. It was over. Whatever this had become between us, it was too much for him to balance that and the show. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes. I didn’t want to cry, so I looked down at the floor. I couldn’t say that I blamed him, but it still hurt like hell.

“I’ll go talk to Patrick this afternoon,” he finished, and my head jerked up.

“What?”

“I’ll talk to Patrick and tell him that you and I are together. That I’ll finish up the show, but I’m not going to choose anyone in the finale.”

I gaped at him, still not sure I had heard him correctly.

“You’d, you’d do that for me?” I somehow managed to ask.

Dash took my hands. “Of course I would,” he said. “I’m crazy about you.”

My heart leapt in my chest, fluttering wildly. He was willing to jeopardize his contract. For me. I couldn’t believe it. It was the nicest, most selfless thing anyone had ever done for me. I was speechless.

So instead of telling him how I felt, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him close, and showed him the best way I could.