Elise was deeply thankful the rest of the contestants were in the kitchen because if any of them were standing here, overhearing this conversation, there would be chaos. Frankly, she too would’ve preferred to go her entire lifetime withoutwitnessing the smoochy nonsense currently unfolding right in front of her.
“You know that isn’t how this show works,” Elise said. “And I don’t care that the last three seasons have followed the same pattern,” she added quickly before Megan could point that out. “It’s unfair to the other contestants.”
It was Provence and Sabi Sand Game Reserve all over again. Many of those contestants were hurt and upset when the show was cut short. Production had received numerous angry, teary, passionately worded calls from women who’d made it close to the end only to be told the bachelorette had cared about someone else all along. Never mind that Elise refused to have anotherNever Rose Showair; she had the contestants to think about too.
“There’s something you should know,” Megan said, stepping sideways. She then gestured for Elise to come in, which she did. But just a step through the doorway. She didn’t feel like being trapped in Megan and Jamie’s love bubble.
“What do I have to know?” Elise asked.
Megan glanced at Jamie, who nodded. Then she turned back to Elise and said, “Tori and Elena have been sleeping together for ages. We only found out this morning. Tori said she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Then Rebecca confessed that she’s in love with Amelia. The two of them have been sneaking into each other’s rooms at night.” She inhaled and then exhaled. “Which is why I felt like I could kiss Jamie and tell her I love her too. I never would have done that if I had known I was hurting the other girls. But I’m not.”
What the actual fuck?
Elise felt like she’d been slapped in the face by a jellyfish. She walked over to the chaise and collapsed into it. Her brain was overloaded. Her neck muscles hurt. One massage session wouldn’t make a dent in all the tension she’d been experiencingthe last few days. She needed at least ten. Maybe twelve. Maybe even a month-long retreat where no one said the words final ceremony.
“But I know how important this show is to you,” Megan said, kneeling beside her. “I watched your interview after last season, the one about you wanting to restore the magic of the final rose. Which is why we’re going to finish the show. All of us.”
Elise vaguely remembered the interview with Veronica Slate fromCineMedia, but she definitely didn’t recall using the word ‘magic’. “You are? Really?” Elise asked, sitting forward suddenly. It felt like she’d had an IV of espresso injected straight into her veins.
“Yes,” Megan said. “We had a villa meeting about it when we got back. We’ll do everything like we were supposed to do. The dates. The rose ceremonies. We’ll be so convincing the viewers will never know.”
Elise couldn’t believe her ears. Yes, the show wasn’t being truly authentic, and yes, it was technically lying, but if they just cut that scene with Jamie confessing her love and pretended it never happened, they could finally get to that final rose ceremony. No one would ever call it anything other thanThe Sapphic Matchever again.
“Okay, let’s do it,” Elise said.
Chapter Twenty-One
Harper stared at her phone so hard that the screen went fuzzy. Or maybe it wasn’t so much the screen as her eyes. She hadn’t blinked in minutes, or at least it had felt that long. If she did, she was afraid the words would disappear.
We would like to offer you a position back atNational Geographic.
She reread the sentence three more times, just to be sure. But the words didn’t change. They were still there, staring back at her.
Harper sank into a dining chair and slid her elbows across the smooth wood of the table. Her legs felt heavier than they had in a long time. She could compare it to the time she’d been knee-deep in snow in the Rockies watching a herd of elk move through the frozen valley below, but any sort of comparison to her old life felt wrong. And yet here she was being handed back a key to everything she’d spent nearly a decade building.
Harper pushed the cellphone away and turned to the sliding door. Through it she could see the sky, a dark indigo with stars scattered across it, disappearing in pockets where clouds crept in. The weather forecast for tonight was rain, which perfectly reflected her mood.
But why?She wondered. Wasn’t this good news? They wanted her back.
It didn’t matter that she was shoved out the door because she dared speak up. What mattered was that the senior editor she’d complained about had apparently harassed other women too and had finally gotten his punishment. What mattered was that Harper had been right. Vindicated. Yet the victory felt oddlyhollow. Even Jack finishing off the email withwork doesn’t feel the same without you here,didn’t feel entirely right. It didn’t feel quite as good as she had expected.
Harper laughed. It was too loud for the silence. She felt it rattle so deep in her bones that her body broke out in goosebumps. Great. Now she was officially going crazy. She’d always assumed senility would creep in slowly—maybe in her late eighties—but she hadn’t considered the process to be fast-tracked by something so unexpected.
Getting her job back wasn’t just unexpected. It was seismic.
She stared down at the phone again. What should she say? Yes, I’d love to. I’ll see you next week. Or no, I can’t, because being right in the end didn’t undo how easily you believed someone else over me. Trust, once cracked, didn’t magically repair itself with an apology.
The thought curled inward like a hook beneath her ribs.
Was it the same as what she’d done to Elise ten years ago? Had she broken Elise’s trust by leaving without an explanation? And if that was the case, had time done anything at all? Was that why everything was falling apart?
Harper suddenly felt an undeniable urge to find Elise and show her the email. To tell her just how ridiculous it was that they were offering her job back when they never should’ve taken it in the first place. How, if it hadn’t happened at all, she might never have realized that Elise wasn’t just some dog-eared chapter from her past she could skim and forget. She was actually the whole damn book.
In a perfect world, Elise would snatch the phone from Harper’s hands, fling it like a frisbee off the balcony, tug Harper closer, and press her lips to Harper’s neck. She would nip at her ear, kiss her full on the mouth, and right before she dragged her to the bedroom, she would whisper and say that Harper wasabsolutely, and under no circumstances, allowed to leave. But the world was anything but perfect. And in this version of reality, Elise would tell her to go.
Harper swallowed and exhaled slowly.
Elise had asked for space, and for once Harper was going to respect it. Besides, Megan had declared her love for Jamie. There would be no final rose ceremony. Harper would be surprised if the contestants hadn’t already been told to pack their bags. Her job was done. She’d probably get a boot tomorrow when Elise felt up to speaking to her again, something Harper desperately wanted, but she could already picture Elise’s professional tone, her voice clipped:Thank you for everything this season, Harper. The footage has been incredible. Production won’t need you any longer.There would be no mention of them. Not that there had to be. More than enough had been said the other night. Elise didn’t want Harper. Full fricken stop.