Page 84 of Most Eligible
Once the cameras wrap, I turn back toward the hotel, but run headfirst into Lainey.
“Sorry,” I blurt, hastily stepping back.
She smooths the front of her shirt. “Glad I caught you,” she says. “I wanted to apologize for the other day—about how our chat ended. I’m sure you understand my position—I have to protect this show at all costs and I thought… well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, but it’s all settled now.” She smiles up at me, the picture of innocence.
“I—um, thanks,” I mutter.
“I spoke to your parents this morning,” she says.
I blink at her. “You—what? My parents? Both of them?”
“They’re not going to be able to come for Family Week after all.”
A confusing mix of relief and disappointment washes throughme. Relief because I won’t have to deal with any awkward family dynamics or lie to my parents’ faces. Disappointment because… despite everything I’ve told myself, the sob story I’ve pushed for the cameras is truer than I’d like to admit. Even though my relationship with Roland is a lie, I wanted my parents to be here for me.
“I know how hard that must be,” Lainey says. “But you must be used to it by now, right? Your parents not being there for you?”
I take a step back, the words knocking the breath from me. Lainey may be creepily observant, but that doesn’t mean I have to believe her. “I’m sure they were just busy.”
“You don’t think it has something to do with their own divorce?” she prods. “Perhaps they resent you for finding love?”
“No, it’s not like that.” I shake my head, and then rear back as I notice the camera trained on me. For a few seconds, I’d forgotten. It’s sickening to think I’m becoming immune.
Pressing my fingers to either side of my nose, I turn to the camera. I clench my teeth to make my chin wobble and blink rapidly, wishing I had some Vicks VapoRub on hand to help me fake tears. “I’m really disappointed that my family can’t make it, because I know they’d love Roland.” My throat gets tight, but I remind myself that it’s all an act. My sadness, my disappointment—ithasto be an act, because otherwise, I’ll fall apart.
“And how does it feel that you’re the only one who hasn’t told Roland you’re falling in love with him?”
My jaw drops, then I recover. My first instinct is to be annoyed with Monica and Addison. They couldn’t have warned me that they were leveling up? But I wouldn’t have warned them. Why would I when we’re all in this to win?
“I have no doubts about my connection with Roland,” I say smoothly. “I know how I’m feeling and I’ll tell him when the time is right.”
The cameras cut, and Lainey gives me a tight smile. “I hope you get the chance.”
I shiver as I follow the others back inside. I hope I get the chance to do a lot of things. Taking Lainey down is at the top of that list.
Week Four Interviews, Clips:
“Georgia has been mybestfriend since college. I know everything about her. I really want her to find the love that she so desperately deserves.”
—Serena Romero, friend of Georgia Rose,Love Shackseason 20
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Since my parents bailed, I assume it’ll just be Roland and me for our date at the end of the week. The producers have all been tight-lipped, and the one person who might actually tell me something—Rhett—has been kept so busy that I haven’t seen him since our first day in Italy. Meanwhile, I’ve been cooped up all week, unable to go any farther than the hotel’s pristine beach. At least I’ve had copious amounts of pasta to keep me company.
I head outside to meet Roland, wearing a corseted top and miniskirt that the producers delivered to my room. The outfit is tight, and every time I bend down, the built-in underwire digs painfully into my chest. It’s like Lainey’s trying to become the world’s first killer to use underwear as her signature weapon.
Roland and I are driven along the coast to a dock that stretches out into the Mediterranean. Our driver, a taciturn man with a wide beard, mutters the names of landmarks in Italian.
We hop out of the car and meet the producers on the dock. Moored at the end is a small dinghy, and farther out in the water is a huge, sleek sailboat. For the cameras, Roland tells me, “I’ve got a pretty special surprise for you.”
He clearly means the boat, but I joke anyway, “Is it your penis?”
I know the reprimand is coming before Lainey even registers what I’ve said.
“GEORGIA!” she screeches. “Watchit.”
“Uh, no,” Roland says, shaking with silent laughter. “Think bigger.”
