Page 36 of It Happened in Vegas

Vanessa and Cassandra stood by the mirrored counter, retouching their makeup. Impossibly polished, they’d stepped off a glossy ad in a magazine.

“That’s me,” I said, forcing a smile.

“You and Keaton are adorable,” she exclaimed with a fake-syrupy tone while eyes flicked over me in judgement.

Cassandra tossed her hair. “Seriously, he’s a catch. Sexy, genuine, and all.”

I pressed my lips together, fighting a sudden flare of irritation. I wasn’t here to be a prop. “Thanks.”

Vanessa’s grin widened. “He’s the guy every girl hopes won’t settle down, so they’ll get a chance at him.”

Cassandra sighed, flicking at her smoky eyeshadow. “We still text all the time. If only he lived closer to me. Pretty sure we’d be married by now.”

They floated out without a backward glance, leaving me with a storm of jealousy and self-doubt. I pressed my palm to my chest. I should’ve known better. Of course a guy like Keaton still had ties to women like her from the show.

Emerging into the hallway, I nearly collided with Starla. She crossed her arms, voice low and wicked. “How convenient that Keaton shows up with you just in time for the reunion weekend.”

I said nothing. Partly because I was too busy reminding myself not to let her get to me. And partly because of the camera operator discreetly zooming in.

Starla’s lips curved. “I don’t think this little act will last. Keaton and I have history. If he wants to deny it, fine, but if I get him alone, I’ll make sure he remembers.”

She swept off, leaving my anger flared, but so did a fresh wave of doubt. What the hell was I doing here? I watched reality TV, not starred in it. I marched through the crowd, hunting for Keaton.

I found him at the edge of the dance floor—but not alone. Cassandra’s hands were on his lapels, and his hands rested lightly at her waist. The sight was a punch to the gut.

My voice went icicle-cold. “Excuse me. Am I interrupting something?”

They jumped apart as I stormed forward. A cameraman caught how Keaton’s face went chalk white. “Sophie, wait?—”

But I whirled away, heart hammering. What a fool I’d been, thinking I was here to help him, but maybe I was just his pawn in his effort to make Cassandra jealous. Every moment of doubt those women had planted had sprung roots.

Keaton caught up with me outside, where the air suffocated me. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It sure looked like she was all over you,” I snapped. “And you didn’t push her away until I showed up.”

“You’re reading this all wrong. She was drunk. I was stepping back, but she kept leaning in.”

I folded my arms, raising one eyebrow. “Do you still have feelings for her? Wonder what could’ve been if you’d moved to Denver?”

He stared at me like I’d broken his heart. “No. There’s only one place I want to live—Holly Creek.”

“What am I even doing here, Keaton?” I exhaled, the leftover tension rolling out on my ribs. I wanted to believe him. But everything about this night felt staged. Every kiss, every glance. How could I know what was real anymore?

He softened, lowering his voice. “You’re my date, not to mention you’re also in charge of making sure my brand is visible this weekend.”

I flinched. “I didn’t sign up for all this drama.”

“Most of it’s manufactured,” he said, eyes earnest. “Mel loves stirring the pot. Starla’s scorn, the Cassandra mess—it’s ratings. It doesn’t mean I like it. The only woman I care about is standing in front of me.”

Then he kissed me again—urgent, electric, leaving no room for doubt. My knees buckled as he pulled me close. Until?—

A dry cough cracked the air.

Melanie. Camera rolling. Grinning wolfishly. “You two are magic,” she purred. “The audience is going to devour this.”

She swept away, leaving us alone.

Breathing hard, I looked into Keaton’s eyes. The adrenaline ebbed, leaving a pool of raw emotion in my chest. My head spun with images of flashing lights, laughing onlookers, my reflection staring back from cameras I couldn’t switch off.

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