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Andre’s friends must be wondering where he’s gone off to by now, but he doesn’t seem all that bothered about ditching them. Another pity.

Rosie, who doesn’t look super thrilled to have him at the table anymore, notices my expression and takes it upon herself to change the subject. God fucking bless the girl. “So, did you go to Sigmund High, then?” she asks Andre.

As Andre replies, Olivia leans in to me. “Hey. You okay?”

I straighten and plaster a smile onto my face. “Mhm. I’m used to it.”

Jordy’s not on the TV anymore, but I can still see his face as he posed in front of the orphanage. Smiling at the presenter the way he used to smile at me. Like she’s the most interesting person in the world.

God, that look used to make my heart feel like it was gonna burst clean out of my chest.

I wonder how many others feel like that when they see Jordy Miller smile at them from the TV. Or magazines. Or the posters on their walls.

How many of them see his shell and believe they know what’s under those layers of charm? And what would they say if they found out?

Olivia gives me a skeptical look, and I’m about to insist I’mreallyokay in the kind of shrill tone thattotallyconvinces people you’re definitely not being defensive, when my phone rings. Saved by the bell. “Hold on, sorry,” I say, bringing the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Maya Bailey?”

“Speaking.”

“This eezgwendbushmeeford zhombareemaday—”

I get up. “Hold on, sorry, I can’t hear you. Just let me go outside. Just… gonna… okay.” I close the glass door behind me and flop on a bench in the parking lot. “Sorry, hi, who is this?”

“Gwendolyn Bushman, calling from Bushman and Siegal Productions. I’m reaching out because we have an exciting opportunity for you we think you’d love to be involved in.”

I’ve never heard of this production company in my life, and I’m pretty sure this is a scam call. Any second now they’re gonna ask for my credit card details, right?

“Sorry, where did you get my number?” I ask, hovering my finger over the “end call” button.

“From Jordy Miller.”

If I weren’t sitting down already, I would’ve dropped from shock. “Jordy?”

“Yes. Our team has produced some of the top-rated reality shows from the past few years. Are you familiar withNerds in the Jungle, Dating Without Caffeine,andExtreme Bathroom Makeovers?”

“Who isn’t?”

“All ours. We have an exciting new project coming up this year; a show calledSecond-Chance Romance.Each season will follow a leading suitor and their exes, as they re-date each other to see if any of that spark that made them fall hard the first time around is still there now that both parties have grown and matured. This year, we’re thrilled to have Jordy signed on as our first-ever suitor!”

I take a second to process this. “Jordy Miller’s gonna be on a reality show?” I ask finally.

“Yes. And, we hope, so will you?”

I look instinctively inside, where I can see the table full of my friends. I have a sudden, wild urge to sprint to them and demand they pile on top of me to bury me under their collective body weight and press out thesheer ragethat’s bubbling within me. “You want me to date Jordy Miller again? On TV?”

“Yes. The series will be filmed in Loreux, Chalonne, and you’ll be accommodated in agorgeouslakeside mansion, it’s really something. All meals will, of course, be provided, and you’ll receive a small amount of compensation for your participation—”

“Look, I don’t know why Jordy put me forward,” I interrupt her. “But I’m not interested, and he would know that.”

“I know it can feel that way when a relationship doesn’t work out. But the thing is,somethingdrew the two of you together in the first place. When people grow, they usually change for the better. Chances are, he’ll have retained that special something, but perhaps some of those differences that separated you will—”

“Let me be clear, Gwendolyn. I would rather be swallowed up into the bowels of hell and enter an arrangement with the fallen angel Lucifer than date Jordy Miller again.”

Gwendolyn’s pause of surprise stretches on long enough I almost laugh into the silence. “The fallen angel Lucifer is the devil,” she says finally, like she thinks I made a small mistake there.

“Yes, Gwendolyn.”