“This is getting ridiculous.”

I lifted my head from the pillow and glared up at my sister. Penny held up the blanket she had snatched off of me, and gave me a look of sisterly disapproval. It was a look she had perfected over the years.

“I’m sleeping.” I tried to grab for the blanket, but she held it out of my reach.

“It’s seven at night,” Penny informed me. “Have you even gotten up since I left for work this morning?” she wanted to know.

“I’ve gotten up.” I sat up indignantly.

Penny raised an eyebrow at me. “For something other than to use the bathroom or clean out my fridge?”

Dammit.

My sister gave me a knowing look, and I took the opportunity to snatch the blanket back, wrap it around myself, and curl back up into a ball on the couch.

“Paige.” The cushions shifted as Penny sat down next to me. “You can’t keep doing this.”

I wanted to tell her that I would be fine. That I was over it. That I was over him. Instead, I did what I had been doing for the past two weeks, and burst into tears, crying in my sister’s arms while she patted my back.

It had been two weeks since I walked off the set of Ever After. Two weeks of calls from Lorna and Emmy, wondering how I was, and calls from Andrea, asking me to come back to work on the finale.

There had been no calls from Dash.

I had left the Hamptons and headed straight into Manhattan, doing my best not to think about the plans Dash and I had made to explore the city together. Instead, I had to drag myself to my sister’s place and ask to sleep on her couch until I found another job.

At first I hadn’t told her what had happened. I just told her that the show was over and I was going to start looking for another job. Which had been my plan. Unfortunately, what I actually ended up doing was eating an embarrassing amount of ice cream and huddling on her couch watching Sandra Bullock movies and crying.

After a few days of this, Penny had commandeered the remote control and ordered me to tell her what had happened.

She had been more understanding than I expected. Of course, being that she was Penny, she made a point to remind me that if I had been a little more careful, none of this would have happened. If I had been like her—if I hadn’t accepted a ride from him to the Hamptons, if I hadn’t gotten involved with Dash in the motel, if I hadn’t let my professional and personal lives mix, as she never would have done, then I never would have been in this trouble in the first place. But she only said it once. Beyond that, she showed a surprising amount of restraint in not saying “I told you so” every time I burst into tears over dinner or while brushing my teeth.

I loved my sister, but we were very different people She wasn’t someone who acted rashly. Like her dumb younger sister.

I was grateful for Penny’s stability. Especially now. Especially when it afforded me a place to stay, and a shoulder to cry on when I needed it the most. Even though the shoulder she was offering was clad in a neat, perfectly tailored gray suit, with Penny’s white blouse buttoned up to her chin, and her skirt hanging well below her knees. The only thing that wasn’t sensible about Penny were her shoes, which were bright blue stilettos with little bows around the ankles.

“I like your shoes,” I sniffed, trying to change the subject. “Are they new?”

Penny gave me a look that indicated that she knew what I was trying to do. But she also did love to talk about her shoes, so she lifted a foot and we both admired the delicate heel.

“You don’t think they’re too much?” she asked, lowering her foot back down.

“I don’t think they’re enough.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “I think you need the rest of your wardrobe to be as fabulous as those shoes.”

Penny rolled her eyes as she always did when I tried to get her to loosen up, whether it was in regards to her clothing, or her job, or her choice of dates, or any other thing in her life. I loved my sister, but she could be hopelessly boring. Not that I was going to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when that gift horse was letting me stay in her apartment free of charge while I ruined all her pillowcases by crying into them.

“You’re trying to change the subject,” Penny told me, putting on her best “stern sister” face. “I know what you’re planning to do tonight.”

I tried to look innocent, but despite our difference, Penny could read me better than anyone else. She shook her head, and I slumped forward.

“I can’t help it,” I told her.

“Of course you can,” she said in her no-nonsense way. “You don’t have to turn on the TV and watch Ever After. You could do something else.”

“Like what?” I asked.

She looked at a loss for a moment. “I don’t know . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t people do things at night?”

“I don’t know,” I countered. “Don’t they?”

Penny never went out. Her idea of a good time was getting ahead on her work for the following week while drinking wine with her beloved Maine Coone kitty, Catticus Finch.

“We could go to a bar,” she offered, and my mouth dropped open.

“You’d venture out on a work night?” I placed my hand to my chest. “In public? Where there is alcohol and people? Where there is actual fun?”

She glared at me. “I have fun,” she told me. “Besides, I’m not the one crying on the couch every night.”

Ouch.

Penny seemed to see that she had struck a low blow, and her expression went contrite.

“I’m sorry, Paige,” she said, wrapping her arm around me. “I just don’t think it’s good, the way you’re torturing yourself over this. It wasn’t your fault, and you tried to explain. He’s the one who wouldn’t listen.”

“You might be right,” I admitted. “But I can’t help it. I have to watch it.”

Penny looked at me for a moment, and then got up and went into the kitchen. When she returned, she had a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

“Fine,” she told me, handing the tequila over. “But we’re going to need something stronger than wine to get through it.”

* * *

It turned out that not even tequila could numb the pain of watching Dash visiting with Savannah’s parents. As predicted, he had chosen Savannah and Kimmie as his final two. I watched as he met with both of their families, visited their hometowns, and went on cozy dates with both of them.

I watched Kimmie’s parts of the episode trying to read the body language between her and Dash and figure out if they had hooked up off screen after my big fight with him on the beach. It was impossible to tell, but he didn’t seem to mind having Kimmie drape herself all over him.

“Not to seem like a bad feminist, but she seems like a real bitch,” Penny noted as we watched Kimmie pretend to twist her ankle so Dash would carry her back to her parents’ house.

I watched him hoist her into his arms, remembering how it had felt to be in the same position. How safe I had felt.

But it was even worse watching Dash and Savannah. Because unlike Kimmie, who was clearly just on the show for fame and fortune, I was pretty sure that Savannah actually truly believed that Dash was there for the same reason she was. To fall in love.

They looked so good together. It was hard not to root for them. Even Penny let out a dreamy little sigh when there was a shot of Dash and Savannah on her parents’ farm, the two of them riding horses as the sun set behind them. It was romantic as hell, and made me feel like shit.

We watched the episode, all the way through the promo for the upcoming episode—the live finale. The episode Andrea kept calling me to come work on.

“OK.” As soon as the next show started, Penny picked up the remote and turned off the TV. She took the shot glass and tequila from my hands and put them on the coffee table. Then she grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet. “That’s it,” she said. “We’re going out. Get dressed.”

This time I didn’t argue with her.

* * *

The bar was crowded, and crowded with hot guys. It was ridiculous. I had been in New York for two weeks now and it felt like I barely saw any attractive men. Apparently, they all hung out at this bar. It was a special kind of hell—surrounded by hot guys and me, with a broken heart and broken libido. Plenty of them were giving both me and Penny the eye, but I couldn’t muster up the interest, and she seemed totally oblivious.

“The tequila here is terrible.” Penny gave her glass a frown.

“Since when did you get so picky about your alcohol?” I asked her.

“I took a class,” she responded.

“Of course you did,” I said with fondness.

“So,” she said, sipping her terrible tequila. “What are you going to do?”

“About what?” I feigned innocence. Poorly.

“You’re obviously not over him. And I know they want you to come back for the finale.” Penny faced me. “Are you going to do it?”

“No!” I said immediately.

“Good.” She gave me a nod. “Because I don’t think it would help you move on. If that’s what you want to do.”

I gave her a sideways glance. “Of course that’s what I want to do,” I told her. “Why would I want to keep mooning over some asshole who finally showed me his true colors?”

“Is that what he did?” Penny asked.

“Of course!” I threw up my hands. “He thought I told the camera crew to film us. He accused me of being a sell-out. And then he went off and slept with the first available girl.”

“Right.” Penny nodded her head. “And you know that’s what he did?”

“He’s been flirting all season with these girls.” I swallowed my terrible tequila in one burning gulp. “I’m sure he was more than eager to take one—or more—of them up on the longstanding offer to sex.”

“What a jerk,” Penny agreed.

“Except he’s not,” I said quietly. “Or, at least, I thought he wasn’t.” I sighed. “I thought he was just doing the show to help out his parents. To save their house.”

“That sounds somewhat admirable,” Penny admitted.

“It is,” I agreed.

“But he thinks you betrayed him,” Penny added.

“Yeah,” I said glumly. Because I couldn’t really blame him. Sure, he hadn’t given me a chance to explain, but if I was being honest with myself, I might have done the exact same thing if I was in his situation.

“Maybe you should try to talk to him,” Penny suggested, sipping her drink.

“I tried,” I reminded her.

“Right after the fact,” she said. “He had probably just heard the news. He probably hadn’t had time to process it.”

I thought about that for a moment. “He could have called.”

“You could have called,” Penny countered.

“Hey!” I turned towards her. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Maybe he didn’t call for the same reason you didn’t call.”

I gave her a look. I had never known my sister to be one for taking risks, and it sort of sounded like she was advocating that I take a risk. A really, really big one.

“What are you saying?” I asked her point blank.

“I’m not saying anything,” she said. “I’m just pointing out that you have unfinished business.” She raised an eyebrow. “And I hate unfinished business.”

The thought of trying to talk to Dash again terrified me. What if he gave me the same cold shoulder he had on the beach? What if I poured my heart out to him, and he rejected me? Again?

“How do you feel about him?” Penny asked softly.

“I love him,” I admitted, and realized, as I said it, that it was true. And it scared the hell out of me. Somehow in the middle of all the faked romance, I’d found something real.

“Then maybe you should tell him that,” Penny suggested.

I stared at her. Who was this woman and what had she done with my sister?

“I don’t know if I can,” I whispered.

She reached over and gave me a hug. “Of course you can,” she said. “Because what’s the alternative?”

I knew she was right. I knew I had to tell him. I knew I had to go back.

“Come on.” Penny waved down the bartender and handed him her card. “Let’s get you packed,” she said. “You can be in the Hamptons before they start shooting tomorrow.”