One To Watch(95)



“I should tell you,” she said, “I haven’t been with anyone since him, since last summer. But I want to—I mean, we don’t have to actually—I’m sorry, I’m so flustered. What I’m saying is, I want us to share a room tonight, if you do.”

To Bea’s horror, Asher’s whole expression changed—he looked embarrassed and awkward, like he had no idea what to say.

“Oh God,” Bea mumbled. “How did I read this so wrong?”

“Bea,” Asher sputtered, “I want to spend the night with you; believe me, I want that. Do you believe me?”

Bea forced a nod, but she felt sick.

“I have to think about my kids. This is going to be on TV in a few days, and they just met you—it’s too fast. I can’t throw caution to the wind. I have to show them I’m being more careful than that with their future. I’m so sorry, I should have brought it up much sooner that sharing a room was never an option for me.”

“But …” Bea couldn’t get a clean breath. “I thought it went so well with them.”

“It did,” Asher entreated. “Bea, it was better than I could have hoped. But we have time, right? We don’t have to do this tonight. We have all the time in the world.”

He hugged her tightly, and she wanted to feel comfort, but the gnawing, ragged emptiness tore through her a pit, like a whisper: First Sam, now Asher. He doesn’t love you. None of them do.

After they wrapped their shoot, Bea had to walk alone across the entire property to her secluded, romantic suite, the one where she and Asher had been meant to stay together. Asher had offered to walk with her, but somehow, that felt worse. When she got to the room, she closed the door and turned off all the lights, hoping that, if she could make the space quiet enough, the voices in her head would stop screaming.

For so long, Bea’s recollection of her night with Ray had felt like a movie on loop, playing over and over in her mind’s eye, more vivid and alive than any other memory she had—the colors more intense, the sensations more acute. These past few weeks, though, Bea had started to feel the movie fading—after all these months, it was like she finally had the ability to change the channel. Tonight, though, after hours of tossing, restless and alone, Bea gave in. She let the movie wash over her, bright and gripping, and imagined Ray beside her, subsisting for one more night on the memory of how it had felt to fall asleep in his arms.



Bea woke feeling groggy, her head pounding with exhaustion and dehydration and general wretchedness. She wanted to be excited for her final date of the week—a day with Luc at her favorite chateau—but after all the pain and rejection of her nights with Sam and Asher, she found herself wishing she’d kept Wyatt around after all. She just wanted some part of this to feel easy.

“Hey.” Lauren approached her on the little propeller plane they’d chartered. “This seat taken?”

“All yours,” Bea said glumly, and Lauren strapped in beside her.

“Shitty week, huh?” Lauren looked like she genuinely felt for Bea.

“Not the greatest,” Bea said quietly. “Any chance I can skip today and just go home?”

“Sadly, no,” Lauren sighed. “I wish I could tell you that this was all for show, that I’m the one who made the guys decide to spend the night on their own for ratings, for a twist. I told you this would get a lot harder if real feelings got involved.”

“Congrats.” Bea rolled her eyes. “You nailed it.”

“No, come on, Bea, that’s not what I mean.”

“What, then?”

“A couple of things, because I know you’re going through hell right now, and I have a lot of information you don’t—I’m the one interviewing these guys ad infinitum when you’re not in the room, okay?”

Bea looked up at Lauren. “What do you know?”

“First, that Sam and Asher both really care about you. I know Jefferson got in your head, flared up all the doubts you’ve been having since day one. And I know how badly it hurt to have two guys in a row refuse to spend the night with you—but neither of them knew the other was going to do that. You’ve worked so hard to trust them—don’t stop now.”

“Because it would be bad for the show?”

Lauren exhaled in frustration. “Bea, we’ve been through this—at this point, what’s bad for the show is also bad for you. You want to spend your last two weeks here moping and feeling sorry for yourself and end up alone? Have at it. But I also want to remind you that there’s an exceptionally attractive man waiting for you in Amboise, who frankly hasn’t fucking shut up for weeks about how badly he wants to get you in bed.”

“Really?” Luc had said as much to Bea, but somehow hearing it from Lauren made it seem like it could actually be true.

“Yes.” Lauren sighed. “Really. So maybe we can put this week in a different perspective? You had great dates with Sam and Asher. You opened up to each other and got closer, and they both told you in no uncertain terms that they want to stick with you for a long time. So you didn’t spend the night with them? Fine. You have a fresh start with Luc today—and I have something really special planned for you guys. Don’t waste it. Don’t let every fear and bad thought you have about yourself stop you from having the fabulous fantasy with him that you deserve.”

Kate Stayman-London's Books