I didn’t want this preserved for posterity. So I took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom, locking the door shut behind us. Someone banged on the door loudly, and a man’s voice said, “Come on, Lemon! This is the kind of stuff the audience eats up! Let us in!”
The knocking continued as Dante took both of my hands. He looked so sad. “I hate when you’re upset with me, Limone. You’re my best friend. What can I do to apologize and make this right? I’ll do anything.”
My mouth literally dropped open. I was his best friend? I’d always considered us friends, but best friends?
Then I realized that it was true for me too. He had become one of my best friends. On par with Kat.
I also realized that there was no rational excuse for my behavior last night. If a man hinted that he had feelings for you, you thanked him for it, told him you found it flattering, but you really just thought of him as a friend. You let him down gently. You definitely did not reciprocate it.
You did not freak out and storm off and say something you knew would hurt him. There was only one reason that I would have acted that way.
Because I had feelings for him, too.
I’d been unable to sleep last night. And I decided how I felt didn’t matter. Even if Dante imagined himself in love with me, it wouldn’t last. I knew from the start that I had to keep him at arm’s length to keep my heart safe. Now I would have to do it for both of our sakes.
I had to. It was the only way to stay sane.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I told him, trying my hardest to make it look like I was smiling for real. “You’re one of my best friends too. Sometimes friends fight, but then they get over it.”
Before he could respond, I opened the bathroom door, and nearly ran into the crew who stood there waiting with the camera pointed at us. Taylor approached from the side with her phone. “Lemon, the phone’s for you. It’s Sterling.”
She had done that on purpose, and I didn’t know why. I took the phone, but now the crew stood in the doorway, leaving me nowhere to go.
Dante was gone.
I only had a second to wonder what his disappearing act meant before I walked back into the bathroom. “Hello?”
“My case settled and I only have a light workload this week before the Belmont case ramps up. I finally have a chance to talk. When are you coming home?”
This was what he called me for? “I told you I was staying.”
“You did? When?”
“The last time we talked. You know, when you were a complete and total jerk to me.”
There was a pause. “What? I don’t remember it happening like that.”
How convenient.
“I didn’t even realize you were this upset. Maybe I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did, and I wish I hadn’t. But in my defense, I told you I was busy, and I did text your friend Taylor to say that I was sorry.”
And again, I was comparing. Two men had just apologized to me in the space of five minutes. One had made my heart flutter with his sincerity and promises to do whatever he needed to make it better, and the other was shifting blame to me. One always knew when I was upset, and the other didn’t even realize it. I sat down on the side of the tub and put my forehead in my free hand.
What a mess.
He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that either. I am just screwing everything up. I am trying so hard to do everything right. I was caught up in proving myself to my father.”
Now that was real and understandable. I knew what it was like to get caught up in trying your hardest to prove yourself to your parents.
“Can you forgive me?”
I supposed that depended on what I wanted. Something I had to figure out and decide, once and for all. Nothing had really changed with Dante. To be fair, he had changed and grown in some ways, but it had not altered who he was at his core. He was still a charming womanizer who could make any female weak in the knees and willing to throw her life away for a chance with him. It was why he had been such a perfect choice for this show.
And why it was so easy to get sucked in by him.
“Lemon? Are you still there?”
Did I want to put myself through it? Did I want to walk away from a lifelong friend and partner who planned to build a life with me? The kind of life I truly wanted? Was I really willing to risk everything for something I knew was destined to fail miserably?
“Yes, I can forgive you,” I said. I’d made a commitment to him. A promise I intended to keep. And I needed to be better about not comparing him to an ideal man who didn’t exist. Sterling had his flaws, but I knew him. He was real. I trusted him.
“Are you still my girl?” It was the phrase he’d always used growing up when we made up after a fight.
“I’m still your girl,” I reassured him, and a soft tenderness flooded through me. “I’m glad you called me.”
“I didn’t call you. Your friend Taylor called me and said that you needed to talk.”
Why would Taylor do that? What had she been trying to accomplish? Something was going on and it made me uneasy.
He asked me some questions about the show, how it was going, and when I thought I would return home to Atlanta. I explained the circumstances and what the producers wanted, and how I couldn’t risk my career by just up and leaving.
Someone must have come into his office because he put his phone on mute and I heard a voice say something before Sterling started speaking again. “I need to go. I love you. See you soon.”
He hung up before I had the chance to tell him that I loved him, too.
But some part of me wondered whether I would have said it back.
The “Getting to Know Me” dates ended, and Dante sent Lisa home. Apparently she couldn’t shut up on their date either, and Dante had gotten to know more than he wanted. Jen K. was next, followed by Ashley S., who swore at everyone on her way out and apparently during the entire limo ride to the airport, too. The other Ashley was sent home after that, and I hoped she and her giggles had a nice flight home.
Which left me, Genesis, Abigail, and carbonated Michelle.
At this point we were scheduled to go on exotic mini-trips with Dante. In other years the girls had traveled together to each location, but this year the producers decided to continue the one-on-one time with the remaining girls. Dante chose where we would go.
I was left until last, again. When I complained to him, he winked at me and said, “You always save the best for last.”
Genesis pulled me aside before her trip and asked if she could talk to me. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to, but the nicer part of me prevailed. She sat on her bed, and I sat on mine.
“They just told me that we’re going to Cozumel. That’s in Mexico, apparently. This is my first time traveling out of the country,” she confessed. “And I’ve never gone alone anywhere with a man before.” Her eyes were downcast, and I got what she was trying to tell me.
Why did I keep making friends with virgins? It wasn’t like I had good life experiences to share and guide them with. I was the last person they should seek advice from.
“First of all, you are never going to be alone. You will have a camera crew with you at all times, and production assistants who will show you where to go and what to do.” I realized how that sounded. “I mean like at the airport and customs and stuff. And for the other part, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Or anything you aren’t ready for. And if you get really freaked out or worried, you call Taylor and she will find me. Don’t put any pressures or expectations on you or on him. Okay?”
She hugged me. She was such a sweetheart. I had to find a way to be okay with her and Dante. If he could really see who she was, how kindhearted, how loving, how fun, he could have a real relationship with her.
And since we shared a room, I was often subjected to the happy glow and private smile that she carried around with her constantly. I knew they were hitting it off. Or at least she really liked him and he w
as being Dante and couldn’t help making her fall in love with him.
Genesis gathered up some last-minute things and asked if I had any advice about Mexico. I told her not to drink the water and not to get kidnapped.
Abigail stomped by our room, apparently upset that she hadn’t been chosen to go first. She hovered in our doorway, looking angry. “What brings you by, Abigail?” Genesis asked.
“Cloven hooves?” I offered.
She only glared at me as Genesis and I dissolved into laughter. She went off in a huff, and I probably should have felt bad, but I didn’t. Genesis had told me about how Abigail had crashed her last date with Dante, and he’d had to send her away. Abigail had told him that they belonged together and it was what everyone wanted and was waiting to see. Genesis had been impressed by how much of a gentleman he was, and he promised Abigail he’d talk with her more when it was her turn. But at the same time, Genesis had been pretty furious that Abigail tried to sabotage her date.
“I don’t know why he keeps her around.”
I did, but I couldn’t tell her. So instead I said, “She’s the kind of girl who would make a preacher mad enough to kick in a stained glass window.”
Someone called her name downstairs. “That’s my ride. I’m off.” She hugged me again with that excited smile, and I felt terrible.
Why couldn’t I just be happy for my two friends?
He took Genesis to Mexico, Michelle to Puerto Rico, and Abigail to St. Croix. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going. I couldn’t wait to see what beach he planned on taking me to. It would be so, so nice to escape this house and lie out on some white sand somewhere. I decided to think of it as a pre-wedding getaway.
As the days passed, my wedding date drew closer and closer. I sometimes pulled my invitation out of my purse and looked at the picture of Sterling and me. We looked happy. We were happy.
But it felt like I shouldn’t have to constantly remind myself of that fact.
I packed my bathing suits, shorts, and T-shirts, along with my sandals. I so needed this break.
I was driven to the airport and put on a private plane. It was not the royals’ private plane, and it wasn’t nearly as nice or as big. The crew assigned to me, men that I now knew as Mike, Steve, and John (only because they called one another by name), also came on board. They continued to film, although I didn’t think hours of me perusing a copy of SkyMall I’d found on one of the seats would qualify as entertainment. I wondered if Dante would be joining us, but the flight attendant told me to fasten my seatbelt and we took off without him.
A couple hours later, we were preparing to touch down. I pushed the button next to my seat, and the attendant appeared. “Yes? How can I help you?”
“Are we having troubles with the plane? Is that why we’re landing?”
“Not at all. We’ve reached our destination. I hope you enjoy your time in Colorado.”
Colorado? I turned to the crew, wanting an explanation, but they were how they always were—silent, stone-faced, and nonparticipatory.
Why were we in Colorado? This wasn’t exactly exotic.
A car waited for us and drove us to my favorite ski lodge, the Rocky Mountain Red Lodge. The one where I spent all my free time skiing during the winter when I was still in college. I wondered the entire way what I was doing here and why Dante had chosen to take me to the mountains instead of a beach.
He waited for me outside the lodge, and I was both happy to see him and thoroughly confused about what was happening.
After he kissed my cheeks hello and made my toes curl, I said, “What is going on? How come everyone else gets the beach and I’m here?”
Then he made everything better by saying, “We’ve skied my slopes, so I thought it was time to try yours.”
“Um, it’s May. Most of the snow is gone.”
He got a huge grin. “Leave that up to me.”
The lodge was empty of any other visitors, as they had closed for the summer. The woman who checked us in said they had a skeleton staff—she’d given us suites with their own kitchens as room service wouldn’t be available and the restaurant was closed. She kept trying not to look at the cameras directly. She wasn’t successful. They’d probably cut every shot she was in.
“I don’t have anything to wear for skiing. I only packed swimsuits,” I told Dante as we went to our rooms, which were side by side.
“You can ski in those. I won’t complain.”
I hit him for laughing, and when I opened my door, I saw all the equipment and clothing I would need. I looked back at him with a grateful smile and let my door close behind me. The room was large and luxurious, dominated by a king-sized bed. As promised, there was a small kitchen with a fridge, stovetop, and a microwave. There was an adjoining door between my room and Dante’s. I started toward it to check the locks, when I heard his door slam shut. He was already dressed! I hurried and changed, eager to get to the slopes.
He was waiting in the hallway for me. “Let’s go.”
We went outside the lodge and headed toward the medium difficulty slopes. I put my hand up to my eyes and realized the entire run was covered in snow.
“How did you . . .”
He pointed and I saw three snow cannons pumping out man-made snow. “I can’t believe you did this!” It must have cost a fortune.
“Let’s go!” He sounded as excited as I felt.
We spent the entire day going up and down the slopes, over and over. I absolutely loved having the place practically to ourselves, with the exception of our camera and sound guys. When they picked the crews to come with us, someone had failed to find out whether or not they could ski. They spent more time in the snow than skiing on it. Dante and I had to keep helping them back to their feet. We laughed and skied and laughed some more.
As it started to turn dark, I felt exhausted physically, but emotionally and mentally I was recharged and refreshed.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this way,” Dante said, right before we walked into our separate rooms.
“What way?”
“Sparkly. Alive. Happy.”
He was right, and we shared another one of those emotionally laden moments that scared me like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
“Skiing always makes me happy,” I said, a little too brightly. “I’m glad we came.”
“That’s what I’m good for. You need someone to remind you to not be so serious all the time. To have fun. Life is too short.”
There was no answer to that other than hiding in my room from him. Like the yellow-bellied coward that I was. I took a very long shower, putting on one of the resort’s fluffy white robes when I finished and towel-drying my hair. I wondered whether there was any food in the kitchen as I hadn’t eaten in hours, and was relieved to find that there was. I had started putting together a salad when a large black spider, which bore more than a passing resemblance to a tarantula, began running across the floor.
I screamed and grabbed my salad bowl, putting it over the spider, trapping him in place. I snagged a wooden spoon and climbed up on the counter, not sure what to do next.
Dante came barreling into the room through our adjoining door. If he’d been a cowboy, he would have had his six-shooters out. “What’s wrong?”
“Spider,” I managed, and pointed to the bowl. It barely registered that he too had just come from the shower and only had on a pair of jeans. I had to be terrified if I couldn’t even enjoy his gorgeously sculpted chest and arms.
He immediately relaxed and came into my kitchen, looking at the bowl and then back at me. “How did you imagine this standoff would end?”
“Shh, don’t talk,” I whispered. “He’s the size of your face. I think he might even have a knife. I don’t want him to hear my voice and come back and get revenge by laying spider eggs in my ears while I’m sleeping.”
“I can’t believe you’re afraid of spiders. I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”
�
��Oh, be quiet, funny man. I need you to do your manly duty and kill the spider, please.”
He went over to the bowl and I closed my eyes. I heard paper towels being ripped, a scraping noise of the bowl being moved and then silence. “All done. You can open your eyes. I have vanquished the spider for you. Quest number three completed.”
“Are you sure he’s dead?”
“Very sure.”
I jumped off the counter and ran to him, hugging him tightly. He put his arms around me, holding me close. Fear and adrenaline had been coursing through me, and now they were turning into something else.
Something even scarier than the spider.
Chapter 15
I have developed a deep-seated jealousy of your mirror and all the time it gets to spend looking into your eyes.
He didn’t have on a shirt, and there was only my bathrobe between us. I gulped as my pulse pounded all over my body.
Even though my hair was wet, I felt a wave of heat blast through me. I finally looked up at him, and he had a roguish grin that turned my legs to rubber.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.
“Not even sort of,” I lied, and hoped he wouldn’t see through it. This all felt so deliberate, like he knew he made me crazy and he thought it was hilarious.
Dante smiled like he knew something I didn’t, and then said, “I was thinking it would be fun to go swimming. They heated the pool for us. Do you want to come with me?”
Right then I probably would have done anything he asked. “Is the pope Catholic?” I blurted out, something my daddy often said.
He had a slight frown. “Last time I checked. Oh!” His frown went away. “That means you’ll come swimming.”
“I, um, just need to get my bathing suit on.”
“You don’t have to,” he teased, and we still just stood there, locked in each other’s arms, neither one of us moving. It didn’t seem to be an issue for him, but I was liable to have a case of the vapors.
“I think swimsuits are necessary.”
Royal Chase (The Royals of Monterra) Page 14
