Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1)

by Jane Lynne Daniels

  When Luke kissed her, she had the sensation of being on a ride she never wanted to get off. A thousand tiny sparklers burned inside her, each hotter than the last.

  “I don’t get it,” she said, and then started when she realized she’d said it aloud.

  Luke turned. “What don’t you get?”

  Her throat went dry. She shouldn’t say it. Bad idea. So against the rules. She said it anyway. “How you can make me feel things no one else can.”

  The words hung between them, bumping along with the tires navigating scars in the highway.

  He didn’t respond, instead reaching to close his hand over hers and move it to his knee. Which, dammit, sent a shiver up her spine.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Make Me a Match

  Episode Eight

  Exes and Oh No’s

  Executive producer Jonathan Sims pinned Luke to the wall with a single, penetrating gaze. He had the kind of eyes that could do that—unreadable and intensely focused. The rest of him was pretty ordinary—middle-aged, paunchy, and balding. But when he zeroed in on a person with that stare, the person paid attention.

  Luke rubbed his forearms, waiting.

  “I’ve been hearing stuff,” Jonathan said. “Stuff I don’t like hearing.”

  Luke flinched. This couldn’t be good.

  “You getting too close to one of the contestants?”

  “Too close? I don’t understand.” But he did. His palms began to sweat. “I just—know her.”

  “It had fucking well better not be in the biblical sense.” Spittle formed in the corner of Jonathan’s mouth. “Though I don’t see what the attraction would be, personally.”

  Luke sat up tall in the chair, his chin high and his hands closing into fists. This asshole had better not say anything bad about Charley or he’d regret it.

  “Shit, I’ll bet she’s a drill sergeant in the sack. Probably has a whistle and a timer.”

  Hold on. “You’re talking about…?”

  “Brittany. Who the hell else would I be talking about?”

  Relief washed over Luke. Relief he wasn’t proud of. “I don’t have anything going on with Brittany,” he assured the producer. “Jen asked me to talk with her a couple of times, that’s all. She’s been giving Jen a pretty hard time.”

  Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “Straight up?”

  “Straight up.”

  “All right. I’ll take your word for it. But if I find out any differently—”

  “There is nothing going on between me and Brittany.” Luke’s hands sliced the air. “Nothing.”

  “Good. I don’t want to have to fire your ass, but I will. In a heartbeat. You’re already on your second chance.”

  Luke didn’t need reminding that this wasn’t an industry for third chances. Luke wasn’t about to risk his job.

  Except that he already had. Fuck.

  “You can go,” Jonathan said, his eyes already back to his laptop. “You’re doing a great job and all that crap, so keep it up. Ratings are good so far.”

  Why in the hell had he ever gotten into this business, Luke asked himself as he left the room. He should have finished college.

  For more than one reason.

  The contestants sat in three pairs on the sofas in the spacious living room. As the décor was largely mid-century modern, the sofas weren’t particularly comfortable, but then, neither were the contestants. They awaited Rob Smiley, who was to explain today’s challenge, the last one before they would all fly home to Seattle for the final episode.

  “Did you hear the kids from the babysitting challenge were child actors?” Brittany said. “I don’t think Jen was supposed to say anything, but she told us.”

  Trevor nodded with a rueful grin while Jason high-fived him. “I knew it,” Jason said.

  Marc shook his head. “I didn’t even suspect, but now it makes sense.” He looked down at Charley. “Would it make you feel better if the kid was peeing on you on cue?”

  “Uh…no.” She rolled her eyes. “I think it was one of those magical reality TV moments that people rewind to see again. And again.” She laughed and the others joined in.

  Hopefully, this was the only wrench they’d see.

  They all fell silent again, waiting.

  There was a different vibe in the air. Usually, when they were off doing their challenges, everyone seemed to take the silliness of it in stride and have fun. Today, the producers and crew seemed to have a pent-up sense of anticipation that she hadn’t felt with the previous episodes. She’d wanted to get Luke alone and ask him about it, but he’d been studiously avoiding her.

  Last night, she’d heard Marc lock and then unlock his side of the adjoining door. She’d lain in bed, motionless, not even daring to breathe, waiting until at last she heard him walk away.

  Then the guilt and doubt had set in. Her parents would love him. She should love him and maybe she would. She’d never been particularly good at reading her own feelings.

  She could picture a future with Marc, a nice house with a fenced yard that had plenty of space for Howard. A bowling team where she could wear her new purple shoes. Neighborhood block parties with beer and laughter, where you could smell the hamburgers barbecuing from blocks away.

  The experts, who probably knew her better than she knew herself, were leading her directly to that life. And why wouldn’t they? It had worked for her parents; it should work for her. No reason it couldn’t.

  Well, only one.

  And she couldn’t think about him right now.

  The cameramen and sound people came to life, responding to a signal the contestants hadn’t heard. Minutes later, Rob entered the room, his customary show-time smile more grim than usual.

  Charley looked up at Marc, questioning. He shrugged to indicate he didn’t have a clue either.

  “Contestants,” Rob began. “Every new relationship has a present and a future. But there’s also a past. A past you may not even realize you’re bringing with you, but until you make peace with it, you could be damaging your future.”

  A sense of dread began to steal over Charley.

  “Our experts determined that each of you are still holding on to certain pieces of your past relationships. We want to help you with that, in a controlled, professional setting, to make sure you have the best chance for success in a new relationship.”

  Charley felt Marc put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Was she imagining it or did she feel him shaking a little?

  Rob gripped his hands hard, apparently to stress the gravity of the situation. “After you arrived in L.A., we did our homework and talked with those closest to you to find out where you might need help. Closure, if you will.”

  Charley stiffened. She had a small circle of close friends. They’d all heard the story of Nick Waller, the guy she’d dated before the show and the reason she’d had to leave the job she’d had before going to work for Second Chance. Would they tell? Chloe wouldn’t. She was Charley’s best friend and she took best friend rules seriously.

  But the others… Erika had been impressed by Charley going on this show and had loudly expressed disappointment that she hadn’t applied. Erika might have said something if the show had called her. She was in love with the idea of Hollywood.

  Shit, shit, shit. But that couldn’t be it. All the contestants couldn’t have baggage like she did. Not possible.

  What if they’d hired actors again, like those kids at the school?

  “Accordingly, we’ve set up the Kiss and Confess room a little differently today,” Rob said. “Our experts are joining us in there, along with some special guests, and we’ll bring each of you in.”

  Charley had a bad feeling about this.

  She wasn’t the only one. Marc removed his arm from around her shoulder and leaned forward, his head down and his hands clasped between his knees. She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell something big was bothering him.

  “Are you okay?” Charley whispered.
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  “Yeah. No, fine.” He didn’t look at her. “Nothing.”

  There was a whole lot of denial in that assurance. She put a hand on his shoulder and dipped her chin close to his, concerned.

  He rubbed his palm across his face and fell back against the sofa. “I’m just not sure what they’re doing, that’s all.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be awful.” She wasn’t sure at all.

  Charley turned back to Rob in time to catch the last of what he said.

  “…so hang in there. We’re certain you’ll thank us in the end.”

  She should never have tried out for this show.

  “First up,” said Rob, his cheerful voice at odds with his somber expression, “is Charley.”

  First up? First?

  Rob gestured to her. Charley rose from the sofa, her knees watery.

  “And Marc, as I said, you’ll come, as well.”

  Marc stood, his expression grim, and took her hand. They walked toward Rob, who looked way too pleased by this episode twist. Charley became aware of Luke following them. A razor-sharp arrow of dread pierced her center. Was he her “baggage”?

  Don't let this be about me and Luke, she repeated over and over in her head. Please. She was grateful Marc had hold of her hand when she nearly fell flat on her face in the hallway because she’d decided closed eyes would help her plea.

  High, plush stools were set up in the Kiss and Confess. Four on one side, where each of the experts sat, backs straight and faces blank. Except for psychic Brooklyn Hanx, who gave Charley what appeared to be a sympathetic look.

  More arrows, each finding its mark with precision.

  Three identical, but empty, high stools faced the experts. Rob took a spot standing between the two groups, cards in his hand.

  Luke moved into the room. “Charley, you sit here,” he said, beckoning to the chair closest to Rob. His eyes met hers and held. She saw an apology in them, which ramped up her heartbeat to a near pass-out rate. “Marc, you sit in the chair on the other end.”

  They did as he told them. Luke moved off-camera, his gaze still focused on Charley. Burt called for action, and Rob glanced at the cards in his hands with a grave expression. “Charley,” he began. “We’ve learned that you are still recovering from an office romance that left you in pieces. In fact, it caused you to lose your job.”

  Charley suddenly couldn’t feel her limbs, wasn’t sure they were even still attached to her. A buzzing began in her ears that made Rob’s voice sound far away.

  Noooooo. God, no. My parents are going to watch this show. I never told them. Couldn’t tell them.

  Rob had turned to talk with the experts, asking them to weigh in, one by one. Charley caught only snippets of what they said.

  “An inadequate sense of closure can—”

  “…is why repressed feelings could make their way to the bedroom, to—”

  “From what I can see, she was never meant to be with this person—”

  “…good riddance to bad rubbish, once and for—”

  At last, the comments stopped and Rob looked into one camera while another zoomed in on Charley’s face. Irrationally, she wanted to laugh, because she knew what was coming next and it was so unfair, so, so—there it went, her ability to form complete sentences.

  “Nick, would you join us?”

  The buzzing in her ears grew louder, and then he walked into the room. Good-looking, charismatic, and semi-addictive, moving with a relaxed grace that said yeah-people-love-me. Nick Waller. Who had flirted with her even during his job interview. Yet she’d hired him. As a direct report. A colossal failure in judgment she could only attribute to the part of her that had cried, “Oooooh look. Someone who might want to love you.” That particular internal voice had become louder and more insistent with each passing year.

  Rob greeted Nick and gestured for him to take a seat between Charley and Marc. He did, resting his long, narrow feet on the rung beneath. She’d always suspected he’d worn shoes bigger than his actual shoe size because of, well, false advertising.

  Another urge to giggle overtook her. She struggled to suppress it, knowing it could only emerge sounding maniacal, giving Make Me a Match exactly what it wanted—ratings. Her eyes sought and held Luke’s, silently urging him to help her keep it together.

  He nodded, slowly and calmly, mouthing, “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t. Clearly. But she stayed in her seat. The familiar scent of Nick’s cologne made her want to puke. On Rob. Or Nick. Both, if she was super talented.

  “Nick, you actually worked for Charley,” Rob began. “She was your boss.”

  “Yes, she was. She hired me.”

  “And how did you move from boss and employee to something more?”

  Human Resources had wanted to know the same thing. Charley’s brain helpfully replayed the painful conversation.

  “You knew a relationship was against company policy. That was bad enough. But to use your position to coerce your subordinate into it? Appalling.” Janet Foster’s eyes, little more than slits to begin with, had all but disappeared. “We expected better from you, Charlotte.”

  “I guess I just got caught up in the whole thing,” Nick said in response to Rob’s question. “I mean, look at her,” he said, gesturing toward Charley. “She’s hot.”

  He sounded sad. Charley wanted to kill him.

  “I knew it was wrong,” he went on, “and unprofessional. So I told Charley we needed to end it. She didn’t take that well.” He turned pitying eyes on her.

  Murder would be too good for him. Waterboarding, maybe. She shut her eyes tight, hoping to transport her sorry, baggage-toting self somewhere else.

  Didn’t work. Rob’s voice penetrated her consciousness and forced her eyes open. “Charley, it’s never easy when a relationship ends, particularly when you are not the one to make that decision. Do you feel as though you’ve had true closure on this failed romance?”

  Who did these people think they were? Blindsiding her with Nick and then exposing her failure in front of a national audience that included her parents and everyone in the small town she’d grown up in? Anger spiraled its way up her spine, picking up words along the way and launching them out of her mouth. “Well, Rob. I was fired from my job because of it, so for me, that was pretty much all the closure I needed.” She jerked her chin in assent.

  Rob’s voice dropped to a level of artificial kindness. “That might be closure as far as your job, but not for what you and Nick shared.”

  “If I may, Rob?” Dr. K. put a hand up before Charley could respond.

  “Certainly.” Rob nodded at him.

  Dr. K. spoke directly to Charley. “As I understand it, there may have been a physical side to this romance—”

  “You mean did I sleep with him?” Charley interjected. “Yes, Dr. K. I did.”

  His expression said he didn’t appreciate being cut off. She sent an expression back to him that she hoped conveyed, So the fuck what.

  “As I had begun to say,” he countered, “if you did not have adequate closure on the previous relationship, it can most definitely affect the next one.” He reached a hand out to indicate Marc. “Including in the bedroom.”

  That got Marc’s attention. He sat back against the chair. “Haven’t had the chance to find out yet.” His brow furrowed and he shot a question to Charley. “Is that why you haven’t unlocked your side of the door?”

  “Ohhhh,” said Rob, the glee in his voice not quite hidden in the one syllable.

  Charley shot Rob what she hoped was a withering look and turned to Nick. “I’ll admit it, I had a little crush on you. I’m not proud of it and the office was never the place for it.”

  Nick nodded gravely. “It was tough. An older woman and all. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  Charley exhaled. “Two years, Nick. I am two years older than you.”

  He shrugged, looking at Rob for confirmation of his dilemma.

  “You were probably my worst employee,�
�� Charley told him. “Not because you don’t have potential, but because you’re lazy. You’d rather charm someone into doing your work for you than do it yourself.”

  His brow furrowed. “Hey.”

  “You’re a good-looking guy.”

  His brow smoothed and he tried to pull off looking abashed.

  “But you’re doing yourself a big disservice in sliding by on your looks. And for a meaningful relationship, a girl has to have more than that. I let it go on longer than I should have.”

  His jaw tightened. “I broke up with you. You can make it sound like you’re the one who did it, if it makes you feel better, but the truth is that I was done with you.”

  “Right. I got that when you went to HR to file a complaint. Which might delay them finding out that you’re not capable of doing your own work, but that won’t last forever. The point is, Rob,” she continued, turning to the host, “I don’t need closure because I hadn’t fully opened the door in the first place. We never made it past physical attraction.”

  “I see,” Rob answered, unable to hide his disappointment.

  Brooklyn smiled, giving Charley a thumbs-up from the safety of the folds of her dress.

  “Thanks for saying you think I’m incompetent.” Nick’s tone became petulant. One of his many unattractive qualities. “Once this airs, I’ll probably have to look for a new job.”

  Right. She’d forgotten to add coworkers, past and present, to the list of people she’d be embarrassed to have see this show. Still. She felt an unexpected stab of pity for him, jerk that he was. She’d rather be good at and committed to her job than rely on physical beauty that would eventually fade. “Not incompetent. Just under motivated.”

  He brightened. “I need to be doing something else. Something I like. Where looks make a difference.” He tried to toss off a casual question. “Hey, Rob, know of any TV shows looking for new hosts?”