One To Watch(100)

“Is that why you told me to send him home last week?” Bea demanded. “To make this easier for yourself?”

“Partly, maybe,” Lauren admitted. “But also because I know you’re looking for a committed relationship, and I obviously know that Luc can’t give that to you.”

Bea turned toward Luc for the first time in the conversation. It hurt just to look at him, to take in the mouth, the arms, the body that had been intertwined with hers only a few hours prior. His eyes were downcast now, his face clouded with guilt and shame.

“Is that what you thought too?” she asked. “That a relationship wasn’t possible for us?”

“Non,” Luc spoke softly. “For me, you are very special.”

“How special can I be if you’re sleeping with other people?” Bea asked bitterly.

“And you are not?” he countered. “You were with two other men just this week!”

Bea’s face burned—she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that, as a matter of fact, she wasn’t.

“Bea”—he took a step toward her—“you must believe that with us, it is different. With Lauren, with other women—”

“There are others?” Bea interjected.

Luc sighed. “For me, this was just fun, yes? Just a way to pass the time. But with you, the way we talk, the way I feel when I am with you … This makes me so happy, my Bea. Don’t you think we could be happy together, after all of this is done?”

“Does that happiness include you sleeping with other people?”

“For me, love is not possessive,” he said simply. “I would never ask this of you, and I hope you would not ask it of me.”

She looked at him, wondering how it was possible they’d never discussed this. Was she foolish to feel hurt? Did she even have a right to assume some modicum of monogamy while she was openly dating two other people?

“Bea,” Lauren broke in, “I need to say again how truly sorry I am.”

“I can’t,” Bea interrupted. “I’m sorry, I just—I need some time, okay?”

Bea willed her body into motion. She walked out of Room 108 and back into the hall, through the lobby, and to the elevator that would take her up to wardrobe. As she waited, she realized with bitter irony that her visit with Lauren had precisely its intended effect: Bea now knew without a doubt exactly who she was going to send home.


Three hours later, Bea was standing in the hotel’s lovely courtyard surrounded by marble fountains and intricate topiaries under an overcast sky, wearing a curve-hugging Brandon Maxwell black velvet wrap dress with a low neckline and a high slit, her hair in sleek Veronica Webb waves, lips painted vivid red: Miss Scarlet in the conservatory with a knife. Sam, Asher, and Luc were standing in front of her—Sam looking nervous but excited, Asher tight-lipped and tense as he always was at these ceremonies, Luc staring down at the ground.

“Before we get started,” Johnny said as the cameras started rolling, “Bea has something she’d like to say. Bea? The floor is yours.”

Bea nodded and stepped forward. She felt sick with nerves, the image of Luc and Lauren in the bathroom fresh in her mind, the feeling of Luc’s hands etched in her skin, the memory of Sam’s and Asher’s rejections stinging in her gut. She knew that if she was going to move forward with any of these men, it was time to say out loud what she wanted. Without that, none of them stood a chance.

“This was a really tough week,” she started, her voice quivering. “We had a lot of miscommunications, and though I know it wasn’t your intention, all three of you hurt me, and badly. And I know that’s partly on me, because I haven’t been totally clear with you about what I want. So. So I’m going to do that now.”

She took a deep breath and looked up at the men, all three of whom were staring at her intently.

“I want to fall in love,” Bea’s voice broke, “with someone who loves me. Who wants a committed relationship with only me. To figure out if we’re right for each other, and, hopefully, to build a life together. And if you don’t want that, too, well. Then I want you to tell me. And I want you to leave. Okay?”

The men nodded, everyone looking uneasy, and Johnny gave Bea the cue to begin the ceremony, in the order they had discussed.

“Sam?”

Sam exhaled and walked toward Bea, his expression more serious than she had ever seen it.

“Bea”—he took her hands in his—“I am so, so sorry that I hurt you this week. You know I didn’t mean to, but that’s on me for making a decision that affected both of us without talking to you to see what you wanted. I hope you can forgive me for that, and I hope you want a future together as much as I do.”

Relief mingled with the tension Bea was feeling as Sam leaned down and she pressed her lips against his cheek. She still wasn’t remotely sure whether he was ready for a serious relationship, but at every turn, he exceeded her expectations, and she was grateful they’d get to spend another week together.

“Okay, Bea,” Johnny prompted. “You can only bring one more man to the finale. Who’s it going to be?”

Bea knew who she wanted to bring—she just didn’t know if he was ready for this next step. She called Asher’s name, and he looked considerably less pleased than Sam as he approached her.