by Amy Harmon
Taycee froze, blinking at nothing in particular. All her life, her parents, brother, and close friends had all shortened her name to Tace. But not Luke. From the day he’d dis-covered her middle name, she’d always been Taycee Lynne to him. At one time, it had given her warm fuzzies inside. But ten years was a long time ago, and that name should have long since lost its power. Yet here she was, fighting those same warm fuzzies that wanted to make her believe he’d just singled her out.
Good heavens.
It was only a nickname. Only a nickname.
Jessa’s heels clacked against the marble as she waltzed back into the room. A surprised, almost worried glance shot Taycee’s way. “You’re still here?”
“Just waiting for you.”
“Why?” It sounded a little too bright for nine o’clock at night. Or maybe Taycee was just in a bad mood.
She stood and walked over to Jessa. “What do you mean, why? So I can congratulate you on a great presentation. I still have no idea how you convinced all those people that hosting a bachelorette show would be a good idea, but you did. That has to be some sort of Guinness World record.”
“That’s because it is a good idea.” Jessa moved forward, collecting the posters and collapsing the easel. Another poster rested behind the podium, so Taycee reached for it.
“Oh, I don’t need that one.” Jessa rushed forward to grab it, but Taycee held it up to get a better look, and then immediately wished she hadn’t. The words “Meet Shelter’s bachelorette, Taycee Lynne Emerson” were scribbled across the top, practically glowing in a white font against the background of Taycee’s dark hair—hair that had been ridiculously glamorized at some studio in Denver months earlier. Jessa had planned a girls’ day out and had insisted on it. After some coercion, Taycee had grudgingly gone along with it, but only after Jessa had promised that no one—not even Taycee’s mother—would ever be allowed to see the pictures.
But now, here was one of them, blown up to ten times its original size and smiling back as if to say, “Ha ha. Joke’s on you!”
Taycee’s hands shook as her fingers tightened, digging into the edges of the poster. It had to be a joke. It had to be. Even Jessa wasn’t capable of something like this.
“You weren’t supposed to see that yet,” Jessa said quietly.
“Yet?” Taycee glared. “When, exactly, were you planning on showing it to me?”
Blue eyes shifted away. “I was hoping you’d gone home to see it on the internet like everyone else. Then I planned to avoid you for a few days until you’d calmed down.”
Taycee shoved the poster forward, right in front of Jessa’s face. “You were going to show the town this tonight, weren’t you? Because you thought I wouldn’t be here.”
Jessa took the poster and stacked it on top all the others. “You’re perfect for the role, Taycee. Do you know how many application videos came flooding in when we advertised that face?”
“It’s not even me!”
“Yes, it is.”
“I don’t look like that every day, Jessa. See this?” Taycee tugged on her pony tail. “This is me! And these”—Taycee pointed to her jeans and flip flops—“so is this. This”—A finger jabbed at the poster—“is not me. I am not a bachelorette, nor do I want to be. You’d better fix this, Jessa! Right now! There’s no way I’m going on that show.”
“I can’t.” Jessa cringed. “In four weeks, twenty guys will be arriving from around the nation to date you—not me, not another girl from Shelter—you.”
“No.” Head shaking, Taycee took a step back. “How could you do this? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
Jessa’s eyes filled with worry. “Tace, don’t be mad—please? I knew you’d never go for it, which is why I didn’t ask you outright, but I did ask. Remember? The favor? You said you were good for it.”
Taycee’s head pounded. “Are you insane!”
“You’re the only one who can pull it off.”
“Don’t give me that.”
Jessa tucked the posters under her arm. “You are. Whether you like it or not, or try to hide behind jeans and T-shirts, you’re gorgeous, talented, smart, kind, and fun.”
Taycee jabbed a finger at Jessa’s chest. “Don’t you dare try to smooth this over with flattery,” she yelled. “I don’t even know what to say to you. This isn’t some funny little prank. This is my life!”
“You’re right,” Jessa said, her voice rising. “It is your life. And it will still be your life after the contest. You’ve spent the last eight years dating guys who never really interested you, so why should another six weeks matter? Especially when it’s my aunt and uncle and the rest of the town we’re talking about.”
“How dare you.”
“C’mon, Taycee, be reasonable and think about it. It’s not like I had a lot of options to go with. Could you imagine Liza as the bachelorette? People would stop watching after the first week. And Marie? Way too shy. Steph? Cute, but way too ditzy.”
“You could have picked yourself, since you’re apparently better than everyone else in this town.”
“That’s just it, don’t you see?” Jessa said. “I’d come across as egotistical and vain. Not a good choice either.”
“Don’t forget conniving and manipulative.”
“Exactly,” Jessa said, though hurt reflected in her eyes.
Well, good. She deserved it. Jessa, who thought she knew everything and could go around messing with people’s lives just because she thought it was a good idea.
Taycee dropped the poster on the floor as angry tears threatened to spill. She spun on her heel and ran from the room, increasing her speed when her feet hit the sidewalk. How could Jessa do something like this? How could she make Taycee the butt of some bad joke, plastering a Photoshopped, fake face all over the internet and in how many newspapers? Regardless of the needs of the town, it was wrong on so many counts.
For six weeks, Taycee would be forced to turn her life upside down, and to prance in front of cameras, acting happy about being made to date guys she had no interest in dating. She’d be questioned, filmed, and broadcasted across the internet to who knows how many people. She’d be demoralized.
All because of Jessa.
Taycee had seen the show and the schedule on the chart. Six short weeks and you find your true love? Ha. Talk about a joke. Sure, the guys grappled around the girl, romanced her, sought out her attention. Why? Not because they were genuinely interested, not because they cared. How could they? How could anyone say they were in love after a few meager dates? It wasn’t real, it was a competition. Each guy wanted to win, and they’d do whatever it took to do that, even fool themselves into thinking they might care.
But they didn’t. The large number of breakups after the fact testified it wasn’t real. Rather, it was an exploitation of dating, romance, and love.
And now Taycee would be the one exploited.
She stormed into her apartment and slammed the door, shutting out the town and everyone in it who was probably now snickering at her expense. Especially Luke.
Luke.
Oh no. Taycee let out a groan as she sunk to the floor and buried her face in her hands. What was it she’d said to him? Something about the possibility of matching him up with his future bride?
No, no, no, no, NO!
She’d have to move. Far, far, far away. It was her only choice.
Chapter Six
Literally overnight, Taycee became the town celebrity. As she walked down Main Street people clapped her on the back and told her how excited they were for the show to start. How grateful they were that she was willing to do this. How she and Jessa had given the town hope.
Patsy’s finger wiggled at her in passing. “I knew it would be you. I just knew it!”
“You’ve always been such a dear,” came from Linda.
A bear hug from Tom.
Taycee mumbled a quick thanks to everyone, and then darted across the street and into the diner. What she needed was cu
rly fries. Lots of curly fries.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the famous bachelorette,” cooed Liza from behind the counter.
Taycee bit back a groan. Seriously, was she not allowed at least one break? “You seem to be here a lot lately. Are you full time now?”
“As of two weeks ago.”
“Oh. How nice.” Maybe Taycee should have opened a diner instead of a flower shop for no other reason than to give people another option.
”The fact that you’re now the bachelorette doesn’t mean you’re going to start expecting special treatment, does it?” said Liza, straightening her apron. “Because you still have to wait your turn just like everyone else.”
If by “turn,” she meant being continuously pushed to the back of the line for at least thirty minutes, then yeah, Taycee already knew that. “Don’t worry. I would never let it go to my head.”
“Right.” Liza rolled her eyes, implying that it already had.
A part of Taycee snapped inside. Who was Liza to judge her anyway? She didn’t know anything about anything. She just jumped to whatever conclusions she wanted to make for whatever reasons she wanted to make them. Fine. Whatever. If Liza chose to think Taycee was that conceited, then so be it.
Taycee picked up one of the take-out menus and held it up. ”While I’m here, would you like something autographed? A menu maybe? Or would you rather take one of the leftover bachelors? I’d be happy to steer one or two your way once they get voted off.”
“You mean like Luke?” Liza baited. “Or are you planning to keep him around for a while?”
Play it cool. She’s only trying to get a rise out of you. “Oh, weren’t you listening last night? That decision isn’t mine to make.”
“You only wish it was.”
“No. I really don't.”
Liza glared. “Then why did you agree to it?”
I didn’t, you brat! But Liza already thought the worse of Taycee, so why bother? It’s not like throwing Jessa’s name under the bus would change anything. She shrugged. “Something to cross off my bucket list, I guess.”
“Wanting to be a bachelorette on a reality show is on your bucket list?”
“Heavens no,” Taycee deadpanned. “Dating twenty guys at the same time is.”
“Figures.” Liza glowered as she punched buttons on the register. “Let me guess. Curly fries and a chicken salad sand-wich.”
“Actually, I’ll take two orders of curly fries today, thanks.”
Liza’s finger stilled, and one of her drawn-on eyebrows raised a notch. “You do know the camera adds ten pounds, don’t you?”
“Make that three orders.”
“Fine.” More hard punches. “That’ll be a few minutes.”
“Shocker.” Taycee turned toward the tables. It wasn’t too crowded, but her favorite booth was already occupied by the one person Taycee never wanted to see again. Of course it would be Luke. And of course he’d be sitting within hearing distance of her conversation with Liza. Why hadn’t she expected it? Prepared for it, even?
Taycee should have stayed home. Closed her shop. Powered off her phone. Sat on the couch and watched TV all day. Maybe that would have put a stop to this Murphy’s Law of a week.
She sank down in the nearest empty seat with her back facing Luke. More than ever, she needed those curly fries. All three orders of them. Her fingertips tapped on the counter, beating out an uneven rhythm.
The chair next to Taycee’s slid out with a screech, and Luke sat down, dropping his lunch on the table in front of him. “I didn’t know you had a bucket list.”
“Eavesdropper,” she muttered.
“What else is on it?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” Taycee said. “Swim with penguins in Antarctica. Become an American Gladiator. Invent meatloaf flavored ice cream.”
Luke’s lips twitched. “Dating twenty guys should be a breeze, then.”
“Yep. Easy peasy.” But really she was dying inside, as evidenced by her burning face. It didn’t help that Luke watched her over the rim of his glass as he sipped his drink, making her feel like he could read her mind. Taycee resisted the urge to squirm.
The glass clinked back on the counter, and a teasing glint appeared in his eyes. “You know, if you wanted to date me, you could have just asked me out.”
He was taunting her, just like he used to do when they were kids. Still, Taycee stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“I probably would have said yes—at least before you dragged me into your little show.”
Could this day get any worse? Why hadn’t Taycee left last night? Fled the town, the state, the country like she’d planned? “It’s not my show.”
“You’re the bachelorette, of course it’s your show.” His elbow came to rest on the table as Luke leaned forward, still teasing her with his eyes. “Tell me, is this usually how you get guys to date you?”
Taycee’s fingers clenched around her napkin encased utensils. She’d had enough—of everyone. The gratitude. The expectations. The accusations. The taunting. Not even curly fries were worth this. She shoved her chair back and stood. “You know what, Luke? You’re just as cocky as you were back in high school. And for the record, you’re the last person in the world I’d ever want to date. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner you get voted off, the better.”
With that, Taycee turned on her heel and ran straight into a guy carrying a plate of ketchup coated French fries.
* * *
Taycee’s fist banged against the wooden apartment door.
“Jessa McCray! Open up!” she yelled.
A moment later the door cracked open and two blue eyes blinked at Taycee. “Is it safe?”
“Now!”
“Okay, okay.” Jessa unlatched the door and swung it wide, allowing Taycee to brush past her. “Are you here to yell at me again?”
“What do you think?”
Jessa sighed. “That you’re here to yell at me again. Hey, what happened to your shirt? Is that ketchup?”
“Yes, it’s ketchup! Do you have a problem with that?”
The door clicked closed. “Wow, somebody’s in a good mood today.”
Taycee glared.
“Okay, okay, fine. Yell away. But then can we please get past this? It’s only been one day, and I can’t stand you being mad at me.” With tentative steps, Jessa stepped around Taycee with her pink and green striped socks. Dressed in matching green sweats, Jessa was obviously working from home today—not that posting Taycee’s picture all over the internet could be categorized as work.
Taycee followed. “I want Luke off the show.”
“What? Why?”
“Why? Because I do, that’s why. I never would have suggested him if I’d known I was the bachelorette.”
A jug of apple juice sat on the kitchen table. Jessa poured two glasses and handed one to Taycee. “But I thought you liked him.”
“Used to!” Taycee practically shouted, setting her glass on the table with a clunk, sloshing some of the juice over the side. “As in past tense. Back when he was actually nice and not cocky, conceited, and… and… ”
“Gorgeous?”
Taycee glowered. “It’s the least you can do after what you’ve done to me.”
In her graceful way, Jessa sank down on a burgundy chair and criss-crossed her legs. With the cup clutched between both hands, she sipped her juice, and then watched Taycee over the rim. “Put yourself in my place, will you? The town all voted Luke in. He agreed. And last night, I added his name and profile to the website as Bachelor #21. Discussions have already started about how dreamy the 21st bachelor is, and how people can’t wait to see him on the show. Do you really think I can change that now?”
Taycee groaned and flopped down on the sofa. How had she gotten herself into this mess? How had everything gotten so out of control so quickly? In only a matter of days, she’d gone from being normal, nice, and sane, to the complete opposite—running around like a crazed, immature lunatic. It wasn’t her. Sh
e was the flower girl of the town—the happy, independent creator of bouquets.
It was all Luke’s fault. Jessa’s too, of course, but it had begun with him. Before he came back to Shelter Springs, Taycee’s life had been good. Controlled. Predictable. Just the way she liked it. But now everything had changed. Luke’s arrival had been like a catalyst, catapulting Taycee into a world of emotional turmoil.
“I’m sorry,” Jessa said. It sounded sincere, and an apology from Jessa came about as often as a lunar eclipse.
“You do realize you just apologized, right?”
“I know, I know. But you’re my best friend, and I don’t want this to mess that up.”
Taycee sighed. The truth was, neither did she. As domineering as Jessa could be, Taycee really had no better friend in the world. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday, even though you deserved it.”
Jessa took another sip of her drink. “If you’re really that upset about Luke, we can always change things around and give the choice back to you. I’m sure I can come up with another way to raise the additional funds. Maybe we could hold some auctions instead. I’m sure we could get some businesses to donate stuff.”
For a second, Taycee actually considered it. If she were the one to give Luke the ax, he wouldn’t be able to accuse her of wanting to date him anymore. Then maybe this whole embarrassment would go away. Maybe he’d go away. Maybe he’d even stop calling her Taycee Lynne.
But the image of Pat’s dejected face came to mind as well. The hurt in his eyes. The way he’d run out on her, and the guilt she’d felt at being the cause of it all. It was still too fresh, and Taycee couldn’t be the one to say “I like you and you, but not-so-much you or you. Sorry.” Besides, maybe Luke really would follow through with his plan to be un-charming and get himself voted off. If so, problem solved.
She shook her head. “No, let’s stick with your way. I don’t want to be the one who decides.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. But I do have one request.” Taycee shot Jessa a pointed look. “And you and I both know I’m in a place where I can demand something.”