I was exhausted and in a really bad mood. Not that Jean-Luc seemed to care. Nope, he was focused on pumping me for details about the home visits I had gone on with Kimmie and Savannah.

“Why didn’t you just watch the goddamn show?” I finally snapped at him as our limo headed towards the mansion. Towards the scene of the crime, the place I would have been happy to never see again.

“I did watch the show.” Jean-Luc leaned back in his seat, apparently unfazed by my outburst.

“Then why are you asking me all these annoying questions about it?” I demanded.

“Because watching the show didn’t help me figure out what the hell you’re doing,” Jean-Luc told me. “And why a man dating two beautiful women is in such a bad fucking mood.”

“You know why I’m in a bad fucking mood,” I said.

“Ah, yes.” Jean-Luc linked his fingers together and put them behind his head. “The betrayal.”

“Would you stop making it sound like it was some little soap opera thing? It wasn’t. It was my life, my personal life, broadcast all over the country.” I took a deep breath. “All because Paige wanted a promotion.”

“Right,” Jean-Luc nodded. “Because she definitely seemed like that type of person.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” I snapped, but again, Jean-Luc didn’t seem to care about my temper.

We sat in silence for a while. Then the mansion came into sight, and I turned away from the window. Was Paige going to be there? She hadn’t been part of the crew on the home visit shoots, but I imagined that she had been working with Andrea as her new assistant, getting ready for the next project. There had been some whisperings about her not coming back for the finale, but I didn’t really believe it. Why would she leave the show when she got exactly what she wanted?

Because that’s what had happened. Right?

“You miss her,” Jean-Luc said quietly.

I hated that he was right. I hated that I couldn’t get Paige out of my head. That even after everything she had done, I still missed her.

I should have been able to focus my attention on Savannah, on a sweet girl who genuinely seemed to like me. For me. But every time I looked at her, all I could see was how she wasn’t Paige.

Paige wasn’t sweet. She was tough as nails, and funny, and smart, and didn’t take shit from me or anyone. And she was sexy as hell. I wanted to want Savannah the way I wanted Paige, but I didn’t. Because I didn’t love Savannah.

Did that mean I loved Paige?

No. I quickly shoved that thought from my mind. I couldn’t be in love with her. I wasn’t that stupid.

We pulled into the mansion’s driveway, and I immediately found myself searching for Paige’s face among the crowd of crew members that were swarming around, getting everything ready for the big, live finale tonight.

The whole thing made me feel a little sick. I just wanted all of this to be done with. To get the hell away from this sham. This lie. My displeasure at being back at the mansion must have shown on my face.

“It’s almost over,” Jean-Luc said quietly.

He reached for the door handle, but before he could grab it, the door was flung open, and Patrick stuck his head into the limo.

“Dash!” he crowed. “My man!”

He moved aside so Jean-Luc and I could get out of the limo, but the minute we had stepped free of the door, he had sandwiched himself in between us, throwing an arm over each shoulder. I quickly exchanged a look with Jean-Luc over Patrick’s head.

“What a douche” was the expression on Jean-Luc’s face. I couldn’t agree more.

“We are so excited for tonight,” Patrick led us towards the mansion. “It’s going to be fucking epic. EPIC!”

“Epic,” Jean-Luc echoed.

“Ratings have been fantastic,” Patrick said, continuing as if Jean-Luc hadn’t said anything. “People really love you.” He gave me a jab in the side. “And they can’t wait for the finale tonight. Can’t wait to see who you’re going to choose.”

Yep. There came that sick feeling in my stomach. Because what was I going to do? If I chose Kimmie, I’d be giving her exactly what she wanted, and the more I learned about her, the less I wanted her to have it. If I choose Savannah, however, I got the distinct impression that she would expect us to continue our “relationship” off camera, which is not what I was intending to do. And if I chose no one, then I risked unleashing the wrath of all the Ever After fans, as well as getting branded a lying, two-faced douchebag.

Not that it wasn’t an accurate description at this point. I deserved the bad press and the bad reputation and everything that came along with it. I was a few hours away from getting what I had signed onto this show for—the remaining money in my contract—and I would have to deal with whatever backlash that followed.

Patrick led Jean-Luc and I into one of the mansion’s suites, where food and champagne had been laid out. There were also several screens along the wall, all of them playing episodes from this season. It was literally the last thing I wanted to look at.

“To you.” Patrick grabbed a glass of champagne, passing one to me and to Jean-Luc. “And to your upcoming engagement,” he added with a wink.

I didn’t say anything. Patrick had been hinting that I would propose to Savannah during the finale, but I had done my best to skirt the topic, committing to nothing.

“I have something for you.” Patrick dug through his pocket and pulled out a small box. A ring box. He pressed it into my hand.

I stared at it.

“What the fuck is this?” I asked, my voice low.

Patrick laughed as if I had told the world’s funniest joke. “What do you think it is?” he took a drink of champagne. “Open it!”

I did, even though I knew that it would just reveal a diamond engagement ring. It was huge. A stone so enormous that it looked tacky.

“I don’t want this,” I told Patrick, shoving the ring back at him.

“Oh really?” Patrick waggled his eyebrows at me. “Did you bring your own?” He took another sip. “Savannah will love it, I’m sure,” he said. “And we can sign the contract for the wedding special after the engagement. It’s going to be huge. America loves you, and they love her. Everyone’s going to want to tune in to see the two of you get hitched.”

“I’m not marrying Savannah,” I said quietly.

But Patrick kept talking. “Obviously we’ll do the wedding here—people love that shit—going back to where it all started, you know? America will lap it up.”

“I’m not marrying Savannah,” I repeated, clenching my fists.

Finally Patrick seemed to hear me, but he didn’t get it.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to choose Kimmie?” he asked. “Well, I wasn’t expecting it, but I can’t begrudge you for your taste. She’s quite a hot piece of ass, isn’t she? Extremely eager. And adventurous, if you know what I mean?”

I’d had enough.

“I’m not proposing to anyone,” I told Patrick.

His mouth dropped open. “Are you fucking with me?” he asked, all the humor gone from his face. “It’s in your contract,” he said. “You have to propose.”

“No,” I reminded him. “I’ve read my contract, remember? I don’t have to propose to anyone. I just have to make it through the finale. I just have to be there.”

“You’re not going to pick anyone?” Patrick glared at me. “Are you fucking nuts? How can we do a wedding special if there’s no bride?”

“I don’t really care,” I told him. “Because after this episode, I want nothing to do with you, or the show.”

Patrick just stood there for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and left.

Jean-Luc let out a low whistle. “Nice work,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “But you know America is going to hate you,” he said.

“I don’t care,” I responded. “I just want this to be over with.”

* * *

I managed to avoid Patrick for the rest of the afternoon. And even though I didn’t want to, I kept looking around for Paige. There was no sign of her. I told myself not to be disappointed.

As it got closer to the sunset, things on set kicked into high gear. I was shepherded into hair and makeup, where Kimmie was just getting up from her chair. She looked beautiful, there was no denying it, but I didn’t feel anything for her. Nothing except a slight sense of distrust.

I could have hooked up with her after my fight with Paige. It was clear that she had been interested—not that she had ever been subtle. There had been enough hands on my arm, on my chest, on my thigh, to indicate that she was more than eager to take our “relationship” to the next level.

But I hadn’t even considered it. Not for a second. Even though I had been angry at Paige, even though I had felt betrayed, even though I had insinuated that I might, I had never actually entertained the possibility of hooking up with Kimmie. For better or for worse, I just wasn’t that guy.

“Hey there, Mr. Suitor,” Kimmie purred, brushing up against me. “Is that a ring box in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

I quickly removed her wandering hands. “Kimmie,” I greeted her, keeping my voice monotone, and refusing to acknowledge her suggestive comment.

She pouted, but did it beautifully.

“I guess I’ll see you out there,” she said, and I saw a flicker of something that could have been nervousness, or insecurity, or something that didn’t seem like her at all. I felt myself soften towards her. Just a little. After all, she was about to get rejected on national TV in front of millions of people.

“I’ll see you out there,” I told her.

No one in the makeup truck spoke to me as I got powdered and primped. That was another thing I wouldn’t miss about this show—having to wear makeup and suits that were just a little too tight in my arms, thighs, and butt.

Jean-Luc was standing outside the trailer when I emerged, but he didn’t look at me. Instead, his attention was focused off in the distance. “What’s going on?” I came over to him and followed his gaze.

Paige.

There she was, looking beautiful and perfect, and there. Even though I had been looking for her all day, I realized I hadn’t been prepared at all to see her. She had her curly hair piled up on top of her head, her black shirt and dark jeans fitting her like a second skin. Immediately my body reacted to the sight of her. But it wasn’t just the lower half of my body.

I felt like all the air had been knocked out of me.

Because I knew in that moment that I loved her. And that I had fucked up. Big time.

“Dude.” Jean-Luc was still looking at Paige. “I can’t believe you let that go.”

“She betrayed me,” I said, but the words sounded hollow.

Jean-Luc turned and gave me a look. “You don’t really believe that.”

I tried to remember what had happened that night, tried to look past the anger and disgust I had felt, to remember what Paige had told me. That she hadn’t betrayed me. I had been too stupid and too mad to listen. But now, I saw that I had been a huge idiot for not even allowing her a chance to explain.

Because I knew Paige, and she wouldn’t have set the cameras up like that. Not for all the fancy jobs in the world.

“No,” I said to Jean-Luc. “I don’t really believe it. I’m a moron.” I clenched my fists.

“Yeah.” Jean-Luc looked back at me. “Yeah, you are.”

I glared at him, but he just shrugged.

“So what are you going to do about it?” he asked, an expectant look on his face.

“What can I do?” I glanced back at Paige, who seemed totally unaware that she was being watched. I loved looking at her. I loved her. “I fucked up. It’s too late.”

“Really?” Jean-Luc sighed. “I never thought I’d see the day when Dash Hennessy gave up this easily.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped.

“You’re just being a coward,” Jean-Luc shot back. “It’s never too late. Was it too late when you were racing Chip Thomas two years ago? When he was nearly about to lap you? Did you give up then? Or what about that time when I was this close to beating your ass, and you came up from behind and won the whole damn race?”

“That’s different,” I argued.

“Sure,” Jean-Luc agreed. “Only because winning a car race is nothing compared to winning the heart of the woman you love.”

Then he walked off, leaving me to wonder if he was right.

But before I could even take a step towards Paige, a PA came and grabbed my arm.

“Mr. Hennessy,” she said. “We’re ready for you. The show is about to start.”