Page 54

“Al? What’s wrong?” Marina’s voice called from the phone.

He rubbed a hand over his face, pacing across the gravel in front of the archway. “The bachelor on these shows,” he cleared his throat, looking around before lowering his voice, “does he have to choose somebody?”

“Al! Are you freaking kidding me? Did you send someone home too soon and want to bring her back? I love it when that happens!”

“Uh, not exactly. Look, I don’t have much time.”

“Right! Okay, it’s rare, but no, he does not have to choose someone. It’s risky though, because the fans might feel like they wasted their time if there’s no happy ending. They could turn on you and sympathize with the ladies for being led on. Most likely you’ll emerge as the villain instead ofthat red head. Depending on how bad it is, you can probably kissDancing with the Starsgoodbye.”

Al nodded, thinking it over. He didn’t remember his contract saying he had to propose to anyone. He’d still get paid but might not get any future deals out of it. Which was fine. He would love to go home and not worry about posting pictures and repping products for once.

“Thanks, Marina.”

“At the end of the day, you’ve got to do what’s right for you, Al. That’s the number one thing. The more genuine the bachelor, the more the audience likes him, whatever he decides. Now I’m glad you called. Jeannie had promised to Facetime the finale, and clearly, it’s going to be a finale for the ages! Can you pass the phone over to her?”

Lindsey’s whistle cut through the air. “Okay, people! Jazz is on her way! I need everyone in place in two minutes. Make sure the ring is nearby!”

A soft sheen of sweat dampened his forehead.

“Hellllo! You still there?” Marina’s voice came through the phone.

“Oh, right, sorry. I’ve got to go in a minute.” He tried to remember where the conversation had left off. “Jeannie’s not here. I guess she’s been thinking about joining a big marketing firm, or company, or something.” Al rubbed hishand over his face. “Some guy offered her a job, so she went to have an interview.”

“This late at night?” Marina snorted.

“I mean, it’s the city that never sleeps, right?”

“I guess,” Marina hedged.

“I pointed that out to Jeannie as well, but apparently, he also does music or recording or something, so he has to be in the studio during the day. He could only see her at night.”

“A record producer? Who wants to meet her late at night?” She went silent for a few beats. “Did she tell you his name?”

Alarm bells rang in Al’s head. “What’s going on, Marina?”

“His name. What is his name?”

Al racked his mind to think, but he’d been so pissed when she’d told him that most of the conversation was a blur. “It was, um, something, like, uh, Vance? And something about food. Crawfish maybe?”

“Vance Crawfish? Crap, Al. Do you mean Victor Crawford?”

“Yes! That was it. Do you know him or something?”

“Al, listen to me now and listen to me good. That man is a horrible, disgusting pig. My dad—you remember him, right?”

Al paled as he considered the implications that Jeannie was meeting a man with connections to Marina’s mafia father.

“My dad tried to sell me to Victor. He told me I was getting a record deal. I thought I was going to sing and make music and maybe go on a tour. But when we met with Victor, he made it clear those weren’t the only things he expected of me.”

“You mean like—”

“Sex? Yeah, and my lack of enthusiasm would not have been an issue for him.”

“Al! Jazz is arriving now. You have to get in place.” Lindsey was clearly pissed, but he couldn’t bother with her now. She could wait. They all could wait. In fact, they could all shove this damn show up their—

“Al,” Christian’s voice came over the phone. “You still with us?”

“Yeah, but, um, fuck.” His heart pounded in his chest. Jeannie had been gone for hours. That Victor asshole could be doing all manner of horrible things to her, and the last thing he’d said to her was—