Falling for Mister Wrong (32 page)

Five minutes later, Miranda reentered the
dressing room. “Miracle of miracles. She’d love to see you. Just
hang on a second until we can clear the hallway and then we’ll
sneak you down there.”

Caitlyn nodded.

It was funny, the little things about the
show that had already begun to fade from her memory. Being held in
a room so the wrong people didn’t bump into one another. The
pleasantly dictatorial demeanor of the producers and cast
wranglers, telling them where to be and what to do. The ubiquitous
psychologists, waiting in the wings to talk to them about what had
happened and coach them into opening up on camera more.

She wouldn’t miss it. Not one bit of it.

Elena’s dressing room was three doors down
and an exact mirror image of hers. The Latina beauty was sitting at
the vanity when Miranda opened the door, but immediately rose to
face them. She planted her hands on her curvy hips and arched her
long neck in a look that could have been haughty or combative, but
Caitlyn now recognized it as Elena bracing for impact. She’d taken
a lot of hits in the last few months. The Slutty Suitorette.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly.

Elena nodded. “Hey.”

“I’ll just leave you two alone. No cat fights
off camera,” Miranda said, though the joke fell flat in the tense
room. “Just knock on the door when you’re ready to leave,
Caitlyn.”

And then they were alone. The two women who
had made it to the end of the Epic Journey Toward Love that was
Marrying Mister Perfect
.

She was still stunning. Samantha might have
been the most beautiful, but Elena trumped everyone on sheer sexual
magnetism.
Salma Hayek, eat your heart out
. She tossed her
long black hair, eyeing Caitlyn guardedly.

Elena had always been impatient, impetuous
and blunt. Caitlyn took a page out of her book.

“Did you love him?”

“Did you?” Elena countered after a minute
pause.

“I thought I did,” she admitted. “Or that I
might. I was never sure.”

“I was,” Elena said. And the tension suddenly
left the room. Her defensive posture eased and there they were,
just two women who’d been stupid enough to date the same guy at the
same time. “I threw myself into it completely. I was absolutely
convinced that he was the one. I told myself it was true love. I
can be very persuasive – even when I’m only fooling myself.”

“Do you still?” Caitlyn asked softly. “Love
him?”

Elena hesitated. Then finally… “No. I hated
you for a little while,” she admitted, then shrugged. “It was easy
to blame you for every time he lied to me. But eventually I wised
up and became grateful you’d taken the bullet for me. I would have
married him.” She grimaced with distaste—somehow making even that
expression seem sensual. “I was that sure. And what a nightmare
that would have been.” She nodded to Caitlyn’s bare left ring
finger. “You’ve called it off?”

Caitlyn nodded. “A few weeks ago.”

“Brave,” Elena murmured. “If you wanted him,
though, you’d have my blessing. No hard feelings.”

“I wondered if I owed you an apology.”

Elena’s face—always so revealing—clearly
displayed her surprise. “Oh,
querida
,
no.
You don’t
owe me anything. I made my own mistakes.”

“They haven’t been kind to you. In the
press.”

“The Slutty Suitorette? My father is
appalled. He’s barely speaking to me now. I suppose I could have
predicted that, if I’d been thinking.”

“Why did you do it?” Caitlyn asked. “I’ve
always wondered. Why play the villainess?”

“Why play the tramp, you mean?” Elena
shrugged again, but that edge of defensiveness was back. “I thought
he would be worth it. I never dreamed he would pick someone else.
Mister Perfect.” She gave a low, humorless laugh. “You know
sometimes I wonder if I even knew the difference between falling
for Mister Perfect and falling for Daniel. I’m pretty certain
he
didn’t know the difference—and that was the really
dangerous part. But I figured it out too late. I doubt I ever would
have figured it out if he hadn’t rejected me. You’re smarter than I
am.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“No? You figured out the secret. It’s easy to
think he’s your last and only shot at happiness. That if you don’t
want Mister Perfect, or if he doesn’t want you, you’ll never find
anyone. They encourage you to think that. But it’s a show. It’s a
lie. It’s not your life. And love isn’t one guy selecting the best
possible girl from a bunch of desperate candidates like the world’s
most fucked up job interview.”

Caitlyn’s heart clenched, thinking of Will
and what she’d thought love was and everything she’d thought she
had with him. “What is it? Love, I mean.”

Elena snorted. “Hell if I know. Let me know
if you figure it out, okay?”

Caitlyn smiled a little, feeling that same
macabre kinship. Survivors of the same natural disaster.
“Deal.”

#

Will waited until all three of his sisters
had seated themselves at his kitchen table before he asked the ten
million dollar question.

“Am I still hung up on Tria?”

Claire and Laney exchanged a glance.

Julia hummed a sympathetic noise. “Only you
can say what your heart feels for her—”

“I’m not in love with her. That isn’t it.” He
tried to remember exactly what Caitlyn had said. “Am I being a
dick, clinging to anger and resentment to avoid real
relationships?”

“Well…” Julia hummed.

“You have every right,” Claire said, dripping
sympathy. Though she was usually the first one to tell him to get
his head out of his ass. His family had been babying him. Letting
him wallow.
Shit
.

“Who said that?” Laney asked, cutting right
through to the juicy part with her keen gossip radar.

“Caitlyn.”

“
Marrying Mister Perfect
Caitlyn?”
This from Claire.

“Oooh, did she tell you if Daniel proposed to
her?”

“Focus, Julia,” Laney snapped, “Will is
having an emotional breakthrough.” Both she and Claire glared at
their middle sister.

“Caitlyn
is
my emotional breakthrough.
Mister Perfect did propose. She said yes. Then she broke it off.
Because of me. Of us… There was an ‘us.’ But when she told me that
she’d jilted Mister Perfect for me, I lost it. I yelled. I was a
fucking moron and now she’s gone.

“Typical guy,” Claire shook her head.

“Help me fix it,” he pleaded.

His sisters had all descended on his
apartment within fifteen minutes of his call, arriving en masse
since Laney had swung by to pick up the others, which was both
wonderful and terrifying. Now he just needed them to wave their
magic wands, give him invaluable girl advice like they had since he
hit puberty and show him the magic gesture that would make it all
right.

It had to be all right.

“Um…” Julia and Claire exchanged a glance,
for once looking at a loss for genius girl advice.

“You do realize she’s on television, like,
right now
,” Laney said. “The Finale and Reunion Special air
tonight.”

Shit.
She was with
him
. Right
now. Mister Perfect could be pleading his case. Probably being
fucking perfect.

He swore.

Claire shoved him toward his couch. “Sit.
We’ll watch with you. Moral support.”

“You’ll watch with me so you can feed off my
love life like emotional vampires.”

“Like I said,” Claire said cheerfully as
Laney turned on his television. “Moral support.”

He could have kicked them out, but the truth
was, he really could use the moral support – even if it did come
with a certain dose of emotional voyeurism. His sisters were
dramatic pains in his ass, but they were his and they loved him and
they wanted him to be happy and right now he needed all the voices
he could find petitioning God to send Caitlyn back to him. So he
sat with his sisters and prayed at the altar of reality television
for the woman who seemed to have become the love of his life.

Chapter Forty

The lights burned down, as warm as a tropical
sun. Caitlyn sat stiffly, as far away from Daniel as she could get
on the cozy little love seat, her hands folded in her lap. They
weren’t shaking. And for once her stomach was fine. It still felt
strange, knowing this was being broadcast live to millions of
households in America, but she’d found her center. All of this
didn’t seem to matter so much anymore.

“I don’t see a ring,” their host, Josh
Pendelton, said gently, oozing empathy and charm. “We all watched
that romantic proposal, we saw that very happy couple on the
screen, but now I understand things have changed. The airing of the
show can be hard on our couples. We’ve seen it before. Are you
still together?”

“We broke it off,” Caitlyn said, soft, but
firm.

Daniel cleared his throat. “Josh, may I say
something?”

“By all means, Daniel,” Josh smiled, debonair
and always composed. “The floor is yours.”

Caitlyn wasn’t sure what to expect. Some
manifesto on Daniel’s part? But she supposed she should have seen
it coming when he turned to her and reached for her hands. She let
him take them, though his grip felt unnaturally hot.

“Caitlyn. I still love you.”

She almost sighed.
Of course you do
.
The man didn’t know what he felt. She opened her mouth, started to
shake her head, but he plowed on before she could refute his
claim.

“I’ve missed you, sweetheart, and I’ve never
wanted anything as much as I want you back. You’re it for me.”

The nausea was back. Lovely.

“I know I made mistakes.” His eyes flicked to
the side, where the other Suitorettes were sitting. Several necks
craned as everyone turned to stare at Elena—who was probably
planning a voodoo doll with Daniel’s name on it. “But I still
believe we’re meant to be together. I still want our life
together.” He pulled something from his pocket. A ring box. A very
familiar ring box.
Well, shit
. “I love you, Caitlyn. The one
thing I did that wasn’t a mistake was picking you.”

Ouch
. She hoped Elena kicked him in
the balls later. “No, but it was my mistake to say yes.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd and Caitlyn
winced. Okay, yes, that had come out much more harshly than it had
sounded in her head.

Here was Mister Perfect. Still handsome.
Still romantic—if in a generic, non-specific way that made her feel
like she was just filling a role. Perfect Fiancé. Not Caitlyn.

But he was offering her that life again. That
tempting life. Husband. Children. Happily-ever-after.

Bird in the hand.

From the look on Daniel’s face, she knew she
could name her terms. On national television, no less, so he
couldn’t renege. She had no idea where she stood with Will. They
hadn’t exactly left things in a good place. He was still nursing
wounds from being jilted. He might never want to get that close to
another woman. Taking a chance on Will might very well blow up in
her face and leave her heartbroken and alone.

The choice had been so hard before. She’d
been so panicked. So unsure.

It was ridiculously easy now.

“Daniel, I’m sorry. You’re a good guy, but I
can’t marry you. In the last few weeks, I’ve started developing
feelings for someone who has been a great friend through this
entire process.”
Use the jargon, Caitlyn. Always a process,
never a nightmare.
“I don’t know if he feels the same way or if
anything will come of it, but it wouldn’t be fair to you to pretend
my heart isn’t otherwise engaged.”

“Would this be Will Hamilton? The man you
were photographed with a couple months back?” Josh asked, smoothly
taking back the reins of the show.

“No comment,” Caitlyn murmured.

She had a thousand things to say to Will, but
she wasn’t going to say them on national television. Her love life
wasn’t their business anymore. The rush that accompanied that
thought was practically orgasmic.

She may have screwed things up with Will by
not being up front about things with Daniel, but he was still the
only man she could imagine marrying and she was going to win him
back. It was her turn to woo him.

#

Miranda moved through the darkened studio.
The show had finished airing hours ago. Caitlyn was on her way back
to her hotel, several of the other Suitorettes were either on their
way to the airport or to a bar. Another successful season… but she
didn’t feel satisfied. Just tired.

The dual specters of
American Dance
Star
and Bennett Lang had hung over her for the second half of
the season, the decisions providing equal parts temptation and
dread. She didn’t know if she could take over Bennett’s job—even if
it was her dream job—without being reminded of him every second of
every day. And on the romantic side, if he was retiring, she wasn’t
even sure how their lives would go together—if there was even a
hope for them as a couple.

She still couldn’t escape the feeling of
inequity. Like he wanted to be her adored mentor rather than her
partner.

She reached for the last light switch on the
set, only to see a figure moving up on the love seat where all of
tonight’s drama had taken place. A very familiar, muscular blond
figure.

Miranda sighed. Daniel had had a rough night.
The Suitorettes had taken him to the carpet for leading them
on—which admittedly was part of the show. Then Elena had torn him a
new one for treating her like a disposable sex doll—which
admittedly, he deserved. And then Caitlyn had practically laughed
in his face when he tried to re-propose to her. Poor guy.

This is what rock bottom looks like,
champ.

She tucked her tablet under her arm and
climbed the risers up to the main stage area. Daniel looked up, his
pretty face contorted in confusion, muscular back bowed.