Page 22 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

I’ve got the script in my head. Smile. Wink. Pretend like I don’t already know who’s about to walk through that door. But even with all the prep, my pulse jumps when I hear the footsteps. Because I know. And I’m not ready.

My palms go sweaty. My jaw tightens.

What if I lose control on national TV? Not just of my temper, but of how I feel?

I look at him, keeping my face neutral. Of course, I know what he’s going to say, but I have to pretend it’s a surprise. Cameras are trained on me from three different angles.

“No idea,” I say. “I thought all my bachelorettes were already here.”

The host grins and points to the door. “Let’s have the reveal.”

The door opens, and a petite, slender girl steps through in a short white dress and fishnet stockings.

I hear several girls gasp or murmur.

Wren tosses her long coppery hair with a defiant flick.

She’s wearing a ton of makeup. The eyeliner and mascara look dramatic and heavy, totally out of place on her normally bare but beautiful face.

She cocks her hip and announces herself.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Wren. Ryan and I go way back. I fully expect to beat out the competition for Ryan’s last rose.”

She’s wearing confidence like armor. The dress is short, the makeup is bold, but it’s the glint in her eye that floors me. I’ve never seen her like this, and it hits me like a slap. I should’ve seen it coming.

My jaw drops. I can’t help it.

Wren glances at me, and for just a split second, I see the nervousness in her eyes before she tosses her hair again.

“Ryan,” the host says. “Any reaction?”

I want to say something clever. Something easy. But all I can think is—this just got real. And I have no fucking clue how I’m supposed to protect her, or myself, when the cameras roll.

I scrunch up my face.

Rich and I talked about playing up my feelings for the camera. I’ve been carefully coached.

But it’s hard to hide the fact that Wren being here as a contestant? Not the twist I wanted.

The host is still waiting for my answer. Thirteen women are staring at me like I just grew a second head. I have about three seconds to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to say.

“I’m very intrigued. I want to get to know Wren, just like all of the bachelorettes. I’m… um… a lucky bachelor.”

The girls break into applause, which makes the back of my neck heat with embarrassment. I force a smile and look around.

Marcus calls cut and instantly, the set is flooded with PAs, gaffers, grips, and boom mic operators. The contestants move toward their assigned production assistants, accepting bottles of water and fanning themselves from the heat generated by the lights that were set up.

A man with a clipboard shouts, “That’s a wrap on the arena! Let’s get the cast down to the vans for transport. We have a whole second setup back at the house set.”

Those words mean almost nothing to me, but I go to where I’m pointed. This is my new life, my reality for the foreseeable future. I should get used to it.

We’ve moved to the set, our first scene shot at the house. The dining room is straight out of a fairy tale. Candles. Rose petals. A string quartet tucked in the corner. A camera crew lurking just out of frame, pretending not to be there.

I swirl the wine in my glass while Trinity talks about her faith.

My first date was a one-on-one dinner, and I chose Trinity, because she seems safe. She is wearing a giant gold cross necklace and a modest-enough dress, so I figured she’s a girl who might be the saving-it-until-marriage type.

Trinity’s been on a roll since the appetizers. She’s told me about her dream of a big family and her plans to start a ministry. Is that the same as a church? I don’t know and I don’t dare ask. She says it all with conviction. I respect that.