Page 66 of Most Eligible
Behind the cameras, Lainey is practically salivating.
“And why would I do that?” Addison asks.
“Because Brooklyn hasn’t had a one-on-one yet.”
“It’s fine,” Brooklyn mutters. “You don’t have to…”
“Believe it or not, Georgia,” Addison says. “I don’t spend my time with Roland talking about other people. Unlike you, I’m actually focused on my connection with him.”
“Iamfocused on my connection with him,” I splutter.So focused that I almost hooked up with Rhett.
“It’s too bad you didn’t break your neck falling off that ladder,” Addison says, eyes narrowed to slits.
Behind the camera, Norbert’s mouth drops open. But Norbert can’t see it when Addison throws me a wink. She wants me to play into it. I know I should. I won’t look like the bad guy—that’s all her. But I’m so sick of it.
Thankfully, Roland’s arrival derails the conversation. He jogs over to our table from the street—he’s not joggingfromanywhere, it’s just for the sake of making an entrance—and hugs each of us in turn. Once the sweaty hugs are over, he stands next to Rhett and grins at us. “What did I miss?”
“I was just about to tell them what you’ll be doing today,” Rhett says. “Today, we have a very special guest.”
Roland grins and slaps him on the back. “I think she might be an even bigger country star than you, Rhett.”
With some effort, Rhett turns his scowl into a passable smile. “Today, Roland and one lucky lady will spend some time in Music City, USA with the legend herself, Sandra Haywood.”
“HOLY BALLS!” Olie shouts. A passing tourist throws her an annoyed look.
Holy balls is right. I only had about a billion of Sandra Haywood’s songs on my MP3 player as a kid.
“I dressed up as her for Halloween like three years in a row,” Chloe gushes. “You know, her iconic outfit? The glittery bodysuit and zip-off cargo pants?”
“I’d rather not imagine that,” Addison says, shuddering.
“I’m really excited for today,” Roland interrupts. “The car will be here in a few minutes, so I guess I better tell you who I’ll be taking.” He pauses as a motorcycle rumbles by, then continues. “Georgia, will you do me the honor?”
My mouth falls open in the silence that follows. I turn to Brooklyn, who’s putting on a brave face.
“Go,” she whispers. “Have fun!”
“What about Brooklyn?” I ignore the gasps from the huddle of producers. I’m willing to bet that nowhere inLove Shack’s history has a contestant questioned a date invitation.
“But,” Roland says, “I…” He trails off like he’s expecting everyone else to vanish and give us some privacy, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, the cameras zoom closer, and he blushes a little as he clears his throat. “I picked you for the date because I know how much you like music and… well, I thought you’d be really excited about meeting Sandra Haywood—I thought maybe you could write about it for one of your articles.”
The sad-puppy-dog look on his face is almost too much for me to bear. “I’m so sorry,” I say. They might be the truest words I’ve ever spoken to him. “That’s really thoughtful of you. I just don’t want anything between us to be unfair, do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” He nods, swallowing hard. “You’re totally right.”
My skin is crawling with the awkwardness of the moment. Even though the street is noisy and we can hear plates clattering from the inside of the restaurant, the silence pulls so tight around us that it could pop.
It feels like we’re in a group therapy session. Frankly, weshouldbe in a group therapy session, but from what I’ve heard, the on-set therapist was the first to go after the network’s budget cuts.
“Brooklyn,” Roland says, turning to her, “can we talk for a minute?”
Brooklyn straightens up and folds her hands in her lap. “We can talk here,” she says. I respect her for it, but it won’t help my secondhand cringe.
“Georgia,” Lainey barks, “get up and give Roland your chair.”
I jump out of my seat and end up standing next to Rhett, who’s scratching the back of his neck and looking like he’d rather have a guitar string break in his face than witness this conversation.
The cameras reset to focus on Roland and Brooklyn, jostling the others out of the frame, and then Roland says, “Can you tell me what’s going on, Brook?”
