by Anna Banks
And so with as much patience as he could muster, he dawdled before presenting Cassandra and Jacquelyn with the bouquets of sweet peas. He gave Jacquelyn her arrangement first, letting her down gently. But when he got to Cassandra, she snatched the bouquet from his hands, threw the flowers to the ground, and stomped on them as best she could in heels.
“You, sir, are not a gentleman,” she bellowed. “You used me for sex! And now this is how you’re going to treat me?”
Grant felt a cold shiver of dread steal through him. Chris was at his side instantly. “Cassandra, what do you mean Grant used you for sex?”
“I mean that Grant and I have been sleeping together for the entire show. He told me I was the one! He said he didn’t care about anyone else here. He even told me to keep the walnut allergy a secret. That he only used that excuse so he didn’t have to sleep with the other contestants.”
The walnut allergy? As far as he knew, Maya had been the only one to figure it out. And he knew Rochelle wouldn’t have said anything about it. What the hell was going on? Deep down though, he knew.
Chris peered up at Grant, eyes wide. “Grant? What do you have to say about these accusations?”
But Grant was too furious to answer. This was obviously all Richie’s doing—and Chris had helped him. Hell, he’d practically apologized in advance for his betrayal tonight. Grant and Rochelle had stolen time to themselves, now Richie was making them pay for it and Chris was acting like his little puppet.
Grant turned to Rochelle. She was completely buying into Cassandra’s performance, which infuriated him even further. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her lips turned down in a scowl. Even Maya pulled her friend close, whispering consoling words in her ear. Did Maya believe Cassandra, too? Surely they could see that he clearly wasn’t kissing Cassandra back in the Dream Suite. Couldn’t they?
“He told me he loved me,” Cassandra sobbed on. “And he told me that I would win the show. That it was a done deal. He said he was tired of trying to get back the love of his life. That he wanted me to be the one.”
I haven’t even said a word, Grant thought, and Rochelle believes everything coming out of Cassandra’s mouth.
So, he hadn’t won Rochelle back, not completely. Part of her still hadn’t forgiven the past, a part that couldn’t quite overcome the hurt he’d caused her. He’d specifically told her he hadn’t slept with anyone on the show. That there had only been her. He’d spent every last available moment with her since they’d returned from the home visit. How could she be falling for this ruse that Richie—and obviously Chris—had cooked up?
But by the way Rochelle looked at him now, he would never have all of her no matter what he did. They had taken some big steps in the past two weeks. Maybe they should have slowed down and really taken their time to get to know each other again. By the way he’d acted, she probably did think him a sex-crazed fool. First she’d seen him with Tiffany Wallace all those years ago and now she saw him with Cassandra.
Maybe he should have given Rochelle more time to trust him again, more time for her to know that he only ever wanted what was best for her. More talking, less sex. But it was too late, he could see that.
There would never be enough trust between them now. Richie had put Cassandra up to this. Or maybe Cassandra had done it herself just to get some last-minute attention. But Richie would never come clean and admit his involvement, and Cassandra would never admit her lies. Chris wouldn’t be of any help, either; he had already stooped to a level lower than Grant ever imagined he would to keep his new career. Still, Grant could tell Rochelle all of that, and she wouldn’t believe him, at least fully. It was all over her face.
Slowly, he removed the mic from his suit jacket and handed it to Chris. “I’m done.”
And then he walked off the veranda.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maya burst through their bedroom door, breathless. Rochelle tried her best to ignore her and proceeded to load folded clothes into her suitcase. She’d thought she’d have time to get it done before her roommate came back from the gym. All she had to do now was tell Richie she was through.
“What are you doing?” Maya asked. “Why are you packing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving,” she replied in a clipped tone. “I can’t stand to be here another second. I can’t stand to be around him another second.”
“You’re not leaving,” Maya said, closing the distance between them. She grabbed Rochelle’s shoulders and gave her good shake. “You’ll lose the money for Helping Hands if you quit.”
Rochelle eased out of her grip and sat on the bed next to her stack of clothes. Damn the tears that threatened to spill over. “Sometimes money isn’t everything.” Not when her heart was breaking like this, all over again. It felt doubly worse than last time, because this time, Grant’s crime was much more serious. Last time he’d broken up with her so she’d be free to go to college. He’d said Tiffany had meant nothing to him, but how would she ever know for sure? Maybe he’d been with Tiffany the entire time he was dating her. And now, this.
This time, he’d lied to her face and slept with someone else while trying to convince her he wanted her and her alone. Cassandra had even known about his walnut allergy, and how he’d used it to ward off the sexual advances of the other contestants. Cassandra had been the one to cry foul, but the truth was, he’d used them both. How long had he been like that? And how could she ever face him again?
Maya sat across from her. “Listen, maybe you should hear him out.”
“I’m not answering his phone calls. He had a chance to deny it on national television and didn’t—or couldn’t. Now he’s had enough time to come up with a lie to smooth things over. It’s not happening. I’m done.”
“It’s just that he seemed so sincere. He’s crazy about you. I know it. Maybe he just—”
“It doesn’t matter why he did it. He lied to me. I can’t trust him.” And the idea of him sleeping with Cassandra the entire time made her nauseous. She’d winced when he’d admitted there had been one-night stands since he’d been with her, but it was nothing compared to knowing the woman in the flesh and imagining her naked with the man she loved. Imagining her being intimate with him in the same way she had been with him these past two weeks. Had he done the same things with her as he’d done with Cassandra?
She closed her eyes against the images conjured up by that question.
That Grant hadn’t said anything at all to defend himself during the show told her everything she needed to know. She wouldn’t buy into his lies ever again.
“Rochelle, think of all that money you’re losing for Helping Hands,” Maya pleaded. “There’s one more elimination ceremony. Let’s give him a taste of his own medicine. If he picks you, humiliate him. If he picks me, I’ll humiliate him. But don’t walk away on that money. You’ve stayed so long already and endured so much.”
“I don’t know if I can face him again,” she said, catching the tears on her chin with the back of her hand.
“You can do this. I’ll be there with you. Remember, you didn’t come on this show for you. You came on this show for something bigger than you. Don’t lose sight of that.”
Rochelle sat on the bed and sniffled. “You’re right. It’s just one more show. I don’t have to talk to him. I don’t even have to look at him if I don’t want to.” In fact, she just had to show up to the ceremony. If that was all that was keeping her from the prize money, she’d be a fool not to man up and go through with it. “All right. I’ll stay.”
The morning of the Golden Rose Ceremony, Richie called Rochelle into his office. “I’ve wired the money into your account as agreed,” he said before she was even seated.
“That’s awfully bold of you. What if I don’t show up tonight?” Because at that moment, she felt like bolting. What was keeping her here now? Nothing, not even Maya’s pep talk.
Richie leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. “The Double Elimination
Ceremony was a shock to us all. I mean, who would have thought he’d been sneaking around with Cassandra?”
A shock? What a gross understatement. It had been devastating. And she certainly didn’t want to rehash that night with Richie. Not when her stomach twisted each time she thought of Grant and Cassandra together. “What can I do for you, Richie?”
“I’m willing to let you out of our verbal agreement. You can fly out this morning; in fact, I already have a plane booked for you.”
She leaned back in her chair. “And why would you do that?” Richie was not the generous type; there had to be a catch.
“Because even I have a heart, Ms. Ransom. Besides, you’re not bringing anything to the show anymore. Your stunts have become subpar and unimaginative. For a while, it seemed as though you were actually getting along with Grant. It’s been quite boring.” Ah, so the true Richie had shown his colors. She had growing boring again—apparently to both Grant and Richie.
He adjusted in his chair, leaning forward a bit, his eyes lit up in excitement. “But, if you were to drop out of the competition unexpectedly, right before the Golden Rose Ceremony—leaving Grant at the altar so to speak—I think that would make for some stellar ratings.”
Ratings. She could have leapt across the desk and strangled this man. He was the reason she’d stayed and gotten her heart shattered all over again. And now he wanted her to leave, because it suited him. For ratings. She should stay here on principle alone. She would show him that she couldn’t be controlled like Chris Legend, that she didn’t bend to his every want and whim. But principle be damned. She wanted to go home. She wanted to pick up the pieces of her life. She wanted to drown herself in work until the pain went away. “That’s it? I can go?”
Richie nodded, but held up his hand. “The only thing I need from you now is an exit interview with Chris. We’ll air it on the Golden Rose Ceremony tonight. If you have anything at all to get off your chest, this interview would be your opportunity to do it.”
An exit interview. A chance to get things off her chest. And then a flight home, to her comfort zone. To work and her apartment and her favorite coffee shop a block away. “You have a deal, Mr. Odom.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
A single gold-plated rose rested on the pedestal on the veranda. The camera crew hadn’t arrived yet, so Grant allowed himself to eye it with contempt. This show made this rose nothing more than a trophy. It wasn’t symbolic of his undying love. It wasn’t symbolic of his true feelings. It wasn’t symbolic of his true choice.
Not that he had a true choice anymore.
He wanted Rochelle. He did. But he wanted all of her—something he would never have again. Which was what he deserved, he’d decided. No, he didn’t sleep with Cassandra, but breaking up with Rochelle before he’d even let her explain herself had done the damage. That, and allowing Tiffany Wallace to fawn all over him so soon after their breakup. He should have been more stern with her at the time, and now he was paying for it because it had planted a tiny seed of doubt Rochelle would always have, a tiny seed of mistrust that would always be between them. Hell, if he hadn’t dumped her so callously, he wouldn’t even be on this show. He’d be with Rochelle somewhere on a beach, drinking something fruity and planning his next attack on her delicious body.
Tonight was going to be bad…
If he chose Maya, she was sure to reject him on national television. He wouldn’t expect anything less from her. She was loyal to Rochelle and would perform her friendly duty, he was certain of it. But he didn’t care about the show’s audience seeing him humiliated; the only audience he cared about shocking was his mother, who truly had her heart set on Rochelle. Sharon Drake was expecting a happily-ever-after this time. And no matter who he chose, no matter how badly he wanted it, he wouldn’t be able to deliver on the fairy tale.
The daughter-in-law she already loved was lost to her forever. And Grant had to be the one to tell her that.
A few of the cameramen meandered onto the veranda, interrupting his thoughts. One of them approached Grant to shake his hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you on the show, Grant,” he said. “You’ve got one tough choice ahead of you.”
“You’re telling me.”
“You nervous?”
Grant shrugged. “As much as any man would be, I guess.”
“Cheer up. You never know what will happen.” The man stalked to his camera, a grin on his face.
At first, it seemed like a throwaway remark. Then Grant remembered Chris telling him that Richie had a surprise for him tonight. You never know what will happen. Obviously the crew did know what would happen. Or at least, that was what they’d have him think. With Richie, everything was a mind game.
But didn’t he already know what was going to happen, too? Of course he did. After all, he controlled how the show would end. And he knew the choice he had to make.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rochelle settled on her couch in her robe and slippers and cradled a fresh pint of Ben & Jerry’s while fumbling for the remote control. She’d told herself she wouldn’t watch the live Golden Rose Ceremony tonight, that she didn’t care what happened now, and that moving forward involved her detaching herself from the show. But, she reasoned, maybe the final episode would give her some closure—closure that she never had ten years ago when Grant broke her heart for the first time.
Settling in, she took a big bite of the ice cream while she watched what seemed like endless commercials. Apparently the show had done well this season, garnering huge sponsors catering to the reality TV audience. Soon, the beginning credits of Luring Love began to roll and the camera zoomed in on Chris Legend, who introduced himself and Grant as he always did. Grant looked stoic, and a bit sad, and Rochelle reveled in the fact that maybe, just maybe she was the cause of his distress for once. That maybe deep down he realized what a complete jackass he was. Wishful thinking.
She tucked her legs underneath her, celebrating the fact that she was on the other side of the camera for once. It was going to be a two-hour episode; surely she could find something therapeutic in watching Grant make a fool of himself. On the flight home, she’d finally acquainted herself with what the Internet and media had to say about the show. Apparently after Cassandra’s infamous admission, the audience was torn on whether or not Grant was truly a gentleman. It seemed that up until that point, he was a shoo-in from all angles. Now though, several blogs insisted Cassandra was a liar, while others claimed they knew all along Grant had a thing for the leggy blonde twin. She even found a website called Bachelor and the Beast which was solely devoted to reaching out to Grant to convince him to vote Rochelle off the show.
Chris brought her thoughts back to attention when he announced, “Before we begin, we have a rather shocking announcement to make. A contestant has dropped out of the competition as of this morning. Grant, I’m sorry to say, Rochelle is no longer one of your choices for the Golden Rose Ceremony.”
For his part, Grant didn’t appear surprised at all. Rochelle thought he might have nodded slightly, but otherwise gave no outward reaction. Disappointment swirled in her stomach. She didn’t know what she’d been hoping for, but it wasn’t that. She’d wanted him to be hurt, wanted him to betray his feelings on live national television. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe Grant couldn’t care less one way or the other. Maybe Grant didn’t actually have feelings.
“Before she left though, she had a few departing words for you Grant. Or should I say, a few departing words for our audience.” Again the golden cart was rolled out with a large flatscreen television on it. Grant watched without expression as they turned it on. Rochelle took a huge bite of Ben & Jerry’s and waited for her exit interview to begin. Richie had told her she could say anything she wanted, that nothing was off limits. And so she had literally told America everything.
“Hi, all,” she began. “As you know by now, I’m no longer a contestant on Luring Love. But before I tell you why I dropped out of the race and f
orfeited my chance at winning the bachelor’s heart, I have to start from the beginning. And the beginning starts when Grant and I were both in college together.”
As Rochelle watched herself tell the story of how they’d met, how they’d dated, how they’d fallen in love, she was surprised to find that she smiled during those segments. That despite her pain, those memories still brought her joy. And she was surprised that she could see tears threatening to spill over when she spoke of their breakup so long ago. It had felt like a new wound as she’d said it to the camera just that morning, and it felt like a new wound now, watching from the comfort of her own home.
During the interview, the camera kept alternating between the television on the cart and Grant’s expression as he stood there beside Chris and watched. He kept his hands folded in front of him, coming across as cold and unaffected. Rochelle took another bite of ice cream and waited for her next confession: the deal she’d made with Richie.
She told America how she tried to get voted off the show, how Grant had stubbornly refused, and how they’d fallen back in love—or so she’d thought—each while trying to outwit the other.
She wondered what Richie was thinking at that moment. If he regretted giving her free reign or if he’d wanted her to do exactly what she did, all for the sake of ratings. She decided she didn’t care. The conclusion to her interview was drawing near. She didn’t want to hear the words again, didn’t want to think about them, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching.
Closure, she thought to herself. Closure.
“Despite everything that happened years ago and despite his betrayal with Cassandra on the show, I’m still in love with Grant Drake. And that is why I couldn’t come to the Golden Rose Ceremony tonight. I hope the viewer audience will understand. I can’t ever face him again. Thank you.”