Lucy and The Love Pact: Young Adult Fake Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 2)

by Anna Catherine Field

  “You still there?” she asks, when I’ve been silent for too long.

  “Yes,” I say, “I am. Thanks for calling. I really should go, I have an early morning.”

  “Good luck, Lucy."

  I hang up the phone and just refuse to cry. I refuse. Dean and I made a deal and now that it’s over, Marissa is right. It’s time to move forward, alone, just like I have the rest of my life.

  I was right, I didn’t sleep at all. I’m anxious and nervous and as I pass the window I see a vehicle in the driveway and think maybe the car arrived early. I grab my suitcase and bag and head out into the dark, early morning.

  It’s not a car from the show.

  It’s a truck.

  Dean leans against it, bundled in his leather jacket and a cap. He looks exhausted. Good, but exhausted.

  “Lucy,” he says, taking a step forward.

  I hold up my hand, forcing him to keep his distance. Which is way harder than I expected. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you one way or the other all weekend. I’m so sorry I had to leave like that. Everything has been completely insane.”

  “I heard. I had to turn off my phone most of the time. The notifications and texts I was getting about you all over New York and your budding romance with new co-star was getting obnoxious.”

  “My co-star? You mean that stuff with Reese? That’s just some spin Marissa is trying to sell to build hype.”

  “Well, it’s working,” I say, wrapping my arms around my chest. The thing I hate most about this moment is that even though I’m furious at him, I wish his arms were wrapped around me right now. “And it’s smart. You and I accomplished what we needed to and look, we’re both headed toward our goals. You have Avondale. I have TNBM. Like, we made it happen and now we can go our own way.”

  A line of confusion slashes his forehead. “Our own way?”

  “Yes,” I say, wanting to make it clear I’m good with everything. “We accomplished everything we agreed on. Checked off all the boxes on my little notebook. We nailed it.” I smile, fake and cheery.

  His gray eyes search mine but car lights flash over us, pulling into the driveway.

  “That’s me,” I say, trying not to cry. I grab my suitcase.

  “Wait,” he says and my heart seizes. I don’t want to wait. I want to go. To run. He grabs me. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.”

  I turn and face him, then do the unexpected. I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him close. His strong arms cinch around me and I inhale his scent, committing it to memory. “Good luck, Dean. Thank you for everything.”

  He pulls back and frowns. I don’t give him a chance to say more. I just grab my suitcase and hop in the backseat, closing the door with a slam.

  “Go,” I tell the driver. “Quickly, please.”

  I face forward, unwilling to look at Dean again. Unwilling to face what I’ve just lost, just focused on what’s ahead.

  Something I can control.

  36

  Dean

  One Month Later

  I keep my eyes focused on the screen on the wall. We’re ten minutes before the final episode of The Next Big Model starts and my nerves are on edge.

  “I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” I say for the tenth time in an hour.

  Finley rolls her eyes. “Stop freaking out.”

  “I can’t help it. I haven’t seen her in over a month and the last time I did, we were not in a good place.”

  “You’re right. You pretty much ruined your relationship with Lucy, but lucky for you she has friends that know what’s right for her and don’t plan on letting her screw up a good thing.”

  “And you think that’s me?” I ask, glancing hopefully between her and Maya.

  “You’ve spent weeks convincing us that you are, Dean, but ultimately she’s the one that has to decide. We’re just willing to help you get a second chance.”

  Yeah, that’s the big caveat.

  Lucy is the one that has to decide, which is what makes this thing so nerve-wracking. I’ve never liked being out of control.

  If you asked my family and friends, they’d say I spent the last month doing nothing but pining over Lucy. That accusation isn’t entirely unfair. I have been pining for her, but I’ve also been working my butt off in an effort to fix all the stuff I messed up.

  First up? Dealing with Marissa.

  I’d been crushed when Lucy walked away from me that morning. Crushed and stunned. Something had gone incredibly wrong over the prior few days and although I knew a huge part of it was my fault, I knew there was more to what happened. After some much-needed sleep, I looked back through my phone, trying to connect the dots. I noticed a call on my phone during the press appointments the final day of my trip. That’s when I discovered a five-minute call I didn’t make.

  When I confronted Marissa about it she hedged, saying it must be a mistake. When I pressed harder, she confessed that she may have intervened, encouraging Lucy to move ahead with her goals and life without me.

  I fired her on the spot.

  The days that followed included a flurry of gifts, tickets, perks, and bribes to get me back. Two days after that she came to my house, groveling. It was the first sign that maybe I do have some power in this business. Along with my parents, we had a long talk about my personal life and Marissa’s non-role in it. We agreed that if she wanted the job as my agent she needed to focus on advancing my career, not who I date.

  If I ever find someone to date again. If Lucy won’t forgive me, I’m not sure if or when my heart will be ready for love again.

  I did learn something from the situation with Marissa. Groveling can work. I didn’t know exactly what would sway Lucy, so I went to the person I figured could help me.

  “Think grand gesture,” Jennifer said when I showed up at Pie Whole. “It may not work but it’s your best shot.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I really hurt her. I don’t think standing outside her window with a boom box playing sappy ballads is going to do the job.”

  That had been Emily’s suggestion.

  “Well, duh.” She’d rolled her eyes, making me feel even more foolish. “You need to heal the wound. Let her know you understand what you did wrong and that you’ll never, ever do it again.” She sat in the seat across from mine. “Most of all, you need to show her she can trust you.”

  Trust, one of the hardest things to earn, and Lucy definitely didn’t give it freely.

  Jennifer got me thinking and I knew that Lucy’s insecurities ran deeper than just me leaving town. I’d failed her. Like so many people before. And in reaction she ran—which is a habit she fell back on over and over again. I needed to prove myself to her, which was completely impossible with her gone for a month.

  That’s when it hit me.

  What was the point of name recognition and fame if I had no leverage? Leverage that Lucy helped me build. I called two people. Finley and Marissa. The latter owed me big.

  With Finley, I asked for insight on what it was like being a foster kid. She told me the truth, how it’s different for everyone but in general it messes with their perceptions of family, who to trust and the struggle to remove the walls of protection. I was shocked to learn that Lucy did go meet with her foster family before she left for the show and they’d confronted a lot of their issues. I’d never been so proud of someone before.

  Well, until tonight. Tonight outshines it all, because Lucy not only made it through all the eliminations, she made it to the final show.

  The show opens with the theme music and a recap of the last episode. We all settle down and watch as Fiona stands center stage. She’s wearing a tight red dress with feathers around the neck and hem. She looks ridiculous but I keep that thought to myself as my eyes dart to Chase, who’s sitting on a loveseat with Finley across the room. Maya and Christian are here, too. Despite my reservations about Fiona, Chase is a good guy. Along with Marissa, he�
��s really the one that made all this happen.

  “Fourteen girls entered this competition,” Fiona says, standing on the dramatically lit stage. “Fourteen girls who tried and failed to win the coveted role of The Next Big Model. The prize is a million dollars and a contract with my exclusive label. During the last thirty-two days, contestants have been eliminated one by one, until today. The final two will have one last photoshoot and assessment. At the end of the show, the whole world will find out live who has won The Next Big Model!”

  The camera pans to where the two girls stand. Lucy, who takes my breath away, stands confidently in a brilliant turquoise dress that make her eyes shine like the ocean. Her hair is styled differently than when she left, but there were no drastic changes. I can tell she’s nervous from the way her chin juts out slightly, but I doubt anyone else notices.

  The other girl, Angie, had almost won the entire competition during her season but came in second. She’s equally beautiful in her own way. A tiny wisp of a girl that oozes an exotic vibe that’s the opposite of Lucy’s natural, organic beauty.

  I feel myself leaning forward, just wanting a moment to look at my girl. I’ve missed her so much.

  The camera pans back to Fiona. “You’ve been through a dozen challenges but tonight you’ll have to do one of the hardest things a model deals with in their career. Sometimes you’re offered the job of a lifetime but it requires you to do the unthinkable; face a personal fear. We asked you beforehand what you were most worried about in life—the thing that kept you up at night.” Both girls smile nervously—I see the wheels spinning in Lucy’s head. Will Fiona shave her hair off again? Will she bring her foster family out? Her dad?

  Both girls are ushered off the stage and the judges discuss the upcoming process, how they’ll challenge both girls and what it means for the final result. The camera cuts away and reveals they are showing Angie first. She changed quickly, coming onto the set in a bathing suit made out of fabric that looks like snake skin. As she walks in, the photographer, a handsome man with a British accent, approaches her and says, “Your biggest fear is snakes, right?”

  “Yes,” she replies with visible discomfort.

  “We’ve created a situation where you have to challenge that fear.”

  “No!” Maya shouts, when she sees the huge pile of snakes that Angie is going to have to surround herself with. “Nope. No. Never.”

  I have to admit it, my skin crawls a little and I’m suddenly thankful that Lucy’s biggest fear doesn’t involve reptiles.

  They cut to a commercial and there’s a knock on the door. Chase hops up and opens it. An assistant stands in the hallway with a headset on and a clipboard, he looks at me. “You ready?”

  I exhale nervously. “Yeah, I am.”

  Finley hops up and gives me a big hug. “You’ve got this, Dean.”

  “I hope so.” I squeeze her back, then shake Chase's hand. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “It was your idea.” he says. “Once my mother heard you wanted to be involved, there was no way she’d say no. She’s a sucker for a dramatic moment.”

  “Good luck,” Maya calls. Christian gives me a thumbs up.

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling more nervous than I ever have before. I follow the assistant out the door and down the hall.

  “You know what to do, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say running my hand through my hair, then remembering I’m going on live TV and taming it back down. This is a terrible, awful, crazy idea.

  He leads me down to a studio where a group of photographers are getting ready. Donovan the set designer finds me in the shadowy wings and shakes my hand. “Thanks for suggesting this little twist. It’s perfect.”

  “Thank you for letting me come. I hope she’s not too mad.”

  “When you had Chase approach his mother about having you on the finale—she thought it was an amazing idea. Lucy’s been through a lot on this show and has really evolved. It’s the perfect full-circle moment having you in the final competition.”

  Maybe. If she doesn’t resent me for being here. The risk for rejection is high, which is probably why Fiona agreed to it. What better drama than watching someone’s heartbreak on television? There’s no time to stress over that anymore. My heart threatens to burst from my ribcage as she walks onto the set. She’s beautiful. Amazing. Strong. But does she want to be mine? In a few minutes, I’ll know the truth.

  Have I lost Lucy forever?

  37

  Lucy

  Today marks day thirty-two. That’s four-plus weeks of fun, adventure, travel, tears, and near breakdowns. That’s twelve photo shoots, twelve eliminations. It’s all led to this final moment and I’m beyond ready for this whole thing to be over.

  We’d gone into this final show completely blind, but it shouldn’t be a surprise that Fiona wants to exploit our fears. It’s a season about redemption. Clearly, Angie and I both have baggage to exploit.

  Once she announces the theme, we’re separated and everything is sped up because of the show being live. I’m rushed into the costuming area, although they’d done a lot of prep work ahead of time on my hair and makeup. The assistants strip off my clothes and there’s zero time for modesty as they work to get me ready for the final contest. I calm my nerves by thinking about how, in just a few hours, this will be over and I can sleep in my own bed, eat whatever I want, and see my friends.

  In just a few hours I’ll have to face the reality of my future with Dean.

  Thirty-two days gave me time to reflect on what happened between us. When you’re trapped in an environment that literally won’t let you out, there’s a lot of time to think. Last time, things didn’t go my way and I ran, but this time that was off the table. I couldn’t quit. And that’s when I realized I’d repeated this pattern with my family, school, and most of all, Dean.

  Things went off course and I quit.

  I’m so tired of being that person.

  I came here to win and once the contest is over, I’ll do everything I can to win him back, too, if he’s willing to take me.

  A dozen hands brush and tug and pull and primp my body, hair, and face. Donovan, the designer that works with the models on each set, walks up and gives me a wide smile. “You look gorgeous.”

  I glance in the full-length mirror and get a good look at myself. I’m dressed in a gown that grazes the floor; white with giant pink and red flowers. My hair is curled and big. Everything about my outfit, my makeup, my hair, is big and dramatic.

  Perfect for a winner or for a huge crash and burn. Fiona is nothing but dramatic.

  Donovan leads me out of the staging area to a huge set-up. Like my dress, it’s a white backdrop filled with hundreds if not thousands of bright flowers. There’s a staircase and a door at the top. The cameras zoom in on us as he explains the shoot.

  “Lucy, everyone is aware of your history. The loss of your mother, the fact your father was absent, your foster family, and everything that happened when you came on the show last time. When asked about your biggest fear, you admitted it’s trusting others.”

  My belly churns uneasily and I glance up at the door. Is there someone behind it that I have to face? That’s the awful part of having so much baggage. It could be anyone.

  “Do you remember that old game? Where you fall backward and you have to trust that someone is there to catch you?”

  “Yes, of course.” A game I would never play.

  “If you want a career in modeling, you have to learn to have faith in the people you work with. The photographers, set designers, other models. For your challenge, you’ll go to the top of the staircase and press your back against the door. It will open and you’ll fall backwards. This is a one-shot deal, Lucy. It’s about your faith in yourself, in the show, and in us.” He smiles at me and touches my shoulder. “Are you ready?”

  I swallow. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  The clock is ticking and it’s now or never. I walk up the staircase, knowing this is a test from Fion
a. Would I back out? Would I run away and quit again? I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

  At the top I see the photographer above me, bent over scaffolding. He directs and encourages me to attempt various poses. I barely hear the click and whirr of the camera over my pounding heart. Nerves stampede in my belly as I lean my back against the door.

  You can do this, I tell myself. You can trust these people.

  You can trust.

  Dean’s face pops in my head.

  That’s who I anchor my mind to as I stay in pose while bracing myself against the door. I’ve just lifted my arms over my head, when I feel it give way. A different rush hits my belly, the kind that comes with a sudden drop, but I keep my model face on as I rush to the ground. Something will catch me. A mattress, padding, a pool of water—

  Arms.

  I didn’t expect arms. Strong arms that cradle me against an equally strong and solid chest.

  “I’ve got you,” a voice says quietly and I lean back to see Dean’s handsome face; his strong jaw, intense gray eyes, and brilliant smile. “I’ve got you.”

  I reach up and touch his face. “Dean? What? How?”

  “I’m so sorry,” he says in a rush. “Please forgive me. Believe me when I tell you that you’re the most important thing in my life.” He swallows and holds my eyes with his. “I love you, Lucy, more than anything.”

  Ignoring the cameras, the photographer, the fact that I almost fell to my death (maybe an exaggeration), I up my hand around Dean’s neck and pull his face to mine. I don’t care that we’re still being filmed or if Fiona gets mad that I’m turning the moment personal. She made it personal when she invited this boy to interfere. When she sent my life on this path. With our noses touching and worry in his eyes, I tell him what I’ve been holding onto for the last thirty-two days. My actual fear—my biggest fear—something I was afraid I’d never get to say.

  “I love you, too.”