When we finally stopped, she told me that Matthew Burdette was not only happy with how I’d been with Dante, he had a present for me.
She handed me a piece of paper. “He had an assistant make up a list of people that he knew were looking for a new public relations company. He said as soon as the show was over he would personally put in a good word for you. You can start calling them once we’re all done here.”
I looked over the names, and I recognized most of them. Even just two of them hiring my company would make a huge impact, which was both exciting and disturbing. It felt like a gift or a bribe, and something to give Burdette even more leverage.
I went into the kitchen to find something healthy to snack on. Crying it out had helped to clear up some of my negative emotions, and the prospect of having a life again after this show, and of being able to grow my business, made me feel happy.
And I stayed happy, right up to the moment where I saw Dante and Genesis outside in the backyard holding hands. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he tilted his head so that they touched. She turned to smile up at him, and it looked like he was about to kiss her. My stomach hardened and I felt sick with jealousy. Doubled-over, ready-to-run-for-the-bathroom sick with jealousy.
It’s okay, I told myself. I have Sterling, and we’re getting married, and I want Dante and Genesis to be happy.
I really did want it. Even if it made me want to bludgeon somebody.
Then it was time to get ready for a cocktail party. I guessed that Michelle would be sent home. They wanted Abigail to stay to cause problems, and I saw with my own eyes how well Genesis was doing. Burdette wanted me to stay, so it seemed like the only logical outcome.
I was glad Genesis didn’t come upstairs while I was getting ready. It gave me time to compose myself, so that I could be nice and happy for her when I saw her again.
As soon as I came into the family room, Dante took me by my elbow and asked to speak with me. I put on a bright, happy smile and followed him.
Then he said the last thing I expected him to say. “Do you want me to send you home? I don’t want you to be unhappy. You can go back to Atlanta, if that’s what you want.”
Things must have been more serious with Genesis than I thought. “It’s not what Matthew Burdette wants.” I told him about everything that had gone on with the producer. He looked more and more worried with each word.
“Has he said anything to you?” I asked.
Now he seemed distinctly uncomfortable, which was surprising. “Just that he liked the way you and I are together.”
He wasn’t lying, but I could tell he was choosing his words very carefully. I thought about my list upstairs. I didn’t believe for a second that Burdette didn’t have his own copy, and that he wouldn’t hesitate to call each and every person to tell them never to speak to me.
“Let’s do this. You pick two other women for the finale. I will stay up to that point. You can come see my family, I’ll go see yours. I will stay and play along and do what I have to do. But you can’t choose me, send someone home that you could have loved, and then have me marry another man. It would ruin everything. The producers might try to force you to pick me, but if you promise me, I know you’ll keep your word.”
His jaw twitched two times, like he was gritting his teeth together. For a minute I thought he might not agree to what I asked. “If you will answer one question for me, then I will promise you.”
I took in a deep breath. “Okay.”
“What do you think would happen if we were together?”
The shock of that question jerked my head back and made me stand up straight. I had to clear my throat before I could speak. “I’ve seen the articles online. I know what you do in relationships.”
“You can’t know because you’ve never been in a relationship with me. When I commit, I commit.”
He couldn’t possibly think I’d be this easily fooled. “Why? Because of your knightly code of honor?”
As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn’t have. His face fell, the disappointment obvious. “Yes, I was raised to treat women with respect and honor. And that may seem stupid or old-fashioned to you, but . . .” He trailed off. He shook his head. “I suppose there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind.”
“This is just pretend, remember? Just for the cameras.” I hated how sad he looked. And that I had caused it.
“Right. Just pretend. And Lemon, I promise you that I will not take you to the finale.”
We were alone. There wasn’t even a crew anywhere nearby. And he didn’t call me Limone. That hurt worst of all. “Thank you,” I said. I expected to feel relief.
Instead I felt shame and regret.
Harris came out to retrieve me and had me join the others inside. I looked back to see Dante being led in the opposite direction. I wondered if they wanted him to make some kind of big entrance. I lined up in the Heart Celebration room with the other girls, candles burning, cameras on.
Dante might very well send me back to Atlanta. We might leave things this way. I didn’t want that.
“I know that you’re standing here, expecting that one of you will go home. Well, as you can see, there are no heart pins on the tray. No one is leaving tonight.”
Genesis grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I smiled back, and I finally did feel relieved. “Instead, I have an announcement to make.” Harris looked at me specifically when he said it, and that relief dissipated as quickly as it had come. He was about to out me. I knew it. He would tell the others that I wasn’t there for the right reasons and Burdette would blackball me and America would hate me. There was an ache at the back of my throat, and chills strangled my spine. The gnawing sensation in my stomach felt like a family of rabid squirrels had taken up residence. I thought I might start hyperventilating.
“As you all know, Dante is charming, handsome, and intelligent. Any woman would be lucky to be with him. But what you don’t know is . . .”
Harris waited, stretching out the moment. I pressed my hand to my heart, so relieved that he wasn’t talking about me.
“Dante is actually His Royal Highness, Prince Dante. His parents are the ruling monarchs of Monterra. Dante also has a substantial trust fund waiting for him when he comes of age.”
It was so quiet you could have heard a rat peeing on cotton. Then the energy in the room shifted after that moment of shock and awe. Each girl had to be considering what this meant for her. The game play had to change because the circumstances did. This was no longer just about getting a hot guy. This was about getting a hot, rich prince. What girl hadn’t dreamed of that at some point in her life?
Harris said, “I’ll leave you to think that over, and to enjoy the rest of your evening. Prince Dante will not be joining you tonight, but he will be choosing one of you in the morning to spend the entire day with tomorrow.”
As soon as Harris left the room, Michelle erupted into a never-ending round of squeals as she jumped up and down.
“I can’t believe he’s a prince!” Genesis said, and she sat down on the riser, putting her head between her knees. “It’s bad enough he looks like that, but he’s rich and royal too? I can’t even . . .”
I grabbed a pillow and tried to fan her off, moving the hair from the back of her neck to help.
“I’ve heard of Monterra,” Abigail said. “He’s a real prince. Not just someone with a title without a castle or money.” She tapped her fingernail against her lip. “I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you?”
Michelle hugged Abigail around the waist, and Abigail allowed it to happen for a whole three seconds before pushing Michelle off. “Everyone go upstairs, get changed into your pajamas, and we’ll have a sleepover downstairs. I’m making everyone milkshakes!”
“That’s suspiciously considerate of you,” I said. Hadn’t she called ice cream poison?
“Nonsense,” she replied. “I am a nice person. I can do nice things for other people.”
I should have known
better.
We’d stayed up most of the night gossiping and giggling, and even Abigail had seemed halfway human. She kept making us chocolate milkshakes, and we drank them until we thought we’d bust.
Harris woke us up early the next morning. We’d been asleep for maybe an hour. Dante stood next to him, dressed for a day out, looking perfect. I, on the other hand, had chocolate shake stains, crazy hair, and bags under my eyes.
I was so glad America was getting to see me at my finest.
Somehow Abigail had a ton of makeup on and her perfect hair fell in soft curls down her back.
Harris asked us to all stand up, because Dante had made his choice for the woman he wanted to spend the day with. It would be the last opportunity to be alone with him before the home visits. He would have to send at least one of us away after he met our families.
We all stood, and I wrapped my blanket around me. I suddenly didn’t feel well. At first I thought it was because I was tired, but I felt sick to my stomach. It probably had something to do with the way Genesis was smiling at him. Being around him impaired my ability to make smart choices, and now it was literally affecting my health.
“These are never easy decisions,” he said, and the room started to spin. It was like I was drunk, but I hadn’t touched any alcohol in a long time. I was glistening heavily, like every single one of my pores had decided now would be a good time to give me a sweat bath.
“And it’s not easy, because I enjoy spending time with all of you, but the person I’ve chosen to spend the day with is . . .”
My stomach contracted violently and made a sound I didn’t know a stomach could make. He stopped for a second and looked at me, raising one eyebrow as if to ask if I was okay. I knew I was going to throw up. I ran for the kitchen sink, fearing I’d never make it to the bathroom, and I heard the other girls getting grossed out as my chocolate milkshakes raced out of my stomach.
Dante was behind me, and he said something, but I couldn’t focus on his voice. Cold chills enveloped me as I just heaved over and over again.
After I’d emptied out every shake, in addition to whatever else my stomach found to toss out, my legs gave way. Dante caught me before I hit the floor.
He picked me up in his arms, settling me against his chest. Everyone gathered around me, asking if I was all right. It made my head hurt.
“I’m taking her upstairs.”
I heard Harris call for the medic on staff. Then Abigail said, “That lucky girl is going to lose so much weight.”
I wished I had the strength to strangle her.
Dante carried me up to my room, and he pushed the door open with his foot. He stopped when he stepped inside. “How can you walk in here? Your floor is covered in clothes.”
I started shivering. “They form a protective covering,” I said, my teeth chattering together.
He eased me into my bed, pulling my covers over me. He brushed hair off of my damp forehead. “I admit, when I’ve imagined carrying you to bed it never ended with me leaving you there alone.”
Only he would be hitting on me while I was dying. “You have got to be kidding.”
He smiled a too-big smile, and I couldn’t get warm enough. I just kept shivering under my covers. The medic came in to examine me, and said it seemed as if I had the flu. She said to give me lots of fluids and to keep me comfortable, and to get her if my symptoms worsened.
I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up having to retch again. I tried to get out of my bed, and there were arms lifting me up and carrying me into the bathroom. I got to the toilet just in time, and threw up bile. It was like I was trying to exorcise a demon from my mouth.
When I finished, I closed the toilet and leaned my head against the lid. The nice, cool, wonderful lid. I heard Dante’s voice. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“My spleen back? I’m pretty sure it ended up in the toilet.”
“You make it hard to be frustrated with you when you’re sick like this.” He picked me up again and carried me back to my room.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “I look terrible.”
“You do look terrible,” he agreed. But he sounded like that time I told him he couldn’t tell me I looked pretty, and he said I looked awful instead. “Truly horrible.”
“You’re not supposed to agree with me when I say I look bad. You’re the worst nurse ever,” I told him as he put me back in my bed.
“I’ve never taken care of a sick person before.”
“I can tell.” I sighed when he put the covers back over me. He crouched down next to the bed and caressed the side of my face. “When you’re up for it, there’s some water on your nightstand. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you in here?” My voice sounded croaky.
“I want to be with you,” he said simply.
“Even when I’m sicker than a white-mouthed mule?”
“Even then.”
I reached out to take his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t want you to leave.” It wasn’t until after the words came out of my mouth that I realized what I’d said. His grin didn’t help things.
I pulled my hand back. “I’m obviously delirious. Anything I say can’t be held against me.”
“Whatever you say, Limone.”
I wanted to argue with him more, but I fell asleep instead.
Chapter 17
Flirting with you? I think politeness has become so rare that people mistake it for flirting. I just happen to be very, very good at being polite.
I woke up and stretched. I felt a hundred percent better. It was like I hadn’t even been sick. I reached for one of the water bottles Dante had left on my nightstand. Yesterday, every time I so much as looked at water, I would throw it up. I took a tentative sip and waited.
It stayed put.
I heard a masculine snoring sound. I sat up. Dante was sleeping in Genesis’s bed. He looked sweet. And hot. And cute.
And very alone with me.
I held my blanket up to my chest, which was ridiculous because I had my pajamas on and he was passed out.
Then a worse thought occurred to me. Had he and Genesis stayed there together? I put a hand to my forehead, ordering myself to not freak out. If he and Genesis had . . . done stuff . . . it was none of my business. It was gross and made me want to smack people, but it was still none of my business.
“Good morning.”
Ack! My heart slammed into my chest. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“You wouldn’t have been surprised if you weren’t busy ogling me.”
“I wasn’t ogling you!” I insisted. “I was only trying to figure out where that snoring sound was coming from.”
“I don’t snore.” He turned to face me, and I was grateful to see that he had a shirt on.
“You most definitely do. You sound like a Mack truck.”
“You’d be the first to complain about it.”
My skin flushed in response, and I didn’t need to think about the implications of that statement. Speaking of which . . . “Where’s Genesis?”
“I don’t know. The producers wanted all of you in separate rooms.”
I didn’t examine the relief that sang through me too closely. “Why?”
He propped himself up on one elbow. “Genesis and Michelle started throwing up right after you did. They didn’t want you to make each other sicker.”
That was not sickness. We wouldn’t simultaneously get the flu within a few minutes of each other. Something had happened.
Something named Abigail.
“Is Abigail sick?”
“Not that I know of.” If he knew something, I didn’t see it on his face or hear it in his voice.
I thought back to our girls’ night, and how she drank the milkshakes with us and how much it had surprised me. Abigail was always careful with what she little she did eat. Always organic, always proteins and vegetables. I thought she was just excited and decided to have a
cheat night. And she drank and drank, up until the last batch that we had right before we all fell asleep.
Was she capable of something like that? Would she have seriously poisoned us? Was she willing to kill us all in order to win Dante?
I had a feeling she was. I would have to prove it somehow. And much as I would have loved to inflict a slow, excruciating revenge, it would be enough just to get her kicked off the show and out of our lives.
“How are you feeling?” Dante interrupted my Inigo Montoya-esque plans for vengeance.
“Totally better. I don’t think I had the flu.”
He pulled back the covers and sat up in the bed. “Food poisoning, maybe? That would explain why all three of you got sick.”
It certainly would.
“Did you take Abigail on the last-chance date yesterday?”
“No. I was in here with you all day.”
My heart stopped and melted all at the same time. The physical attraction was one thing, but the emotions threatened to drag me under. “Doing what?” My voice sounded strangled.
“Taking care of you. Watching that zombie show you like so much when you were sleeping.”
It affected me more deeply than I would have cared to admit that he had spent an entire day looking after me. He didn’t have to, I didn’t expect it, and he did it anyway.
Maybe, just maybe, his feelings weren’t as shallow as I thought they were.
I couldn’t imagine Sterling doing the same thing.
What was wrong with me? It was like I was looking for reasons to be with Dante and cancel my wedding. “You mean The Walking Dead?”
“And I don’t understand why when people fall down when running from a zombie, they scoot backward along the ground instead of getting back up and running away. They’re obviously faster on their feet. Or why sometimes the zombies are loud and other times they’re like ninja zombies.”
Royal Chase (The Royals of Monterra) Page 16
