Page 139 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

Leah makes a face. “I wish I weren’t. But it’s in the fine print of my contract to do this, which means I’ve got to actually go on camera and talk about what happened.”

“You don’t sound thrilled,” I say.

Now Leah does tug at her curls. “I’m not used to being the one onscreen.” Leah takes a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

“Wait,” I say. “Uh, where’s your purse?”

“I left it backstage. Why?”

I pull a lip gloss out of my own bag and wave it at her. Leah bursts out laughing and then obediently purses her lips for me. I lightly touch up her gloss.

“There, perfect,” I say. “You’re going to do great.”

“Thank you,” Leah says, smiling at me.

“Any last-minute advice for me?”

Leah squeezes my hand. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but just be yourself.” She starts to walk off, but then pauses and calls back to me, “And don’t slouch!” She is almost out of sight when she can’t resist turning back one last time to shout, “And don’t fiddle with your hands!”

Then she hurries off to her interview.

“She’s right, you know,” says someone new.

That voice.

I recognize it instantly. I know without turning around that Daniel Cho will be standing behind me, looking unfairly devastating in a black tuxedo or whatever the hell wardrobe decided to put him in. And I know that he’ll be giving me that trademark half smile of his that I know and love so well, and my heart keens.

We haven’t seen each other in person since we left the island. That had been part of the agreement to take it slow: stay apart while we sort out our lives, be methodical and logical, and make sure whatever this is between us isn’t some trick of the lighting on set.

For me, going slow meant making a spreadsheet of everything in mylife I had to disentangle from Chase and everything I wanted to do for my mom, and a checklist of signs that I’d be emotionally ready to take the plunge into a new relationship.

I’ve just completed “get Chase off of my Netflix account,” and a part of me is wondering if I’m ready to move forward.

But hearing Daniel’s voice in person, and not on FaceTime or one of those extended phone calls where we’d talk late into the night and accidentally fall asleep on the line, I think that maybe it’s time to let go and, yes, forget the spreadsheet.

When I do finally turn around, Daniel’s just as I imagined. He smiles at me, fixing the cuff on his suit. His tie matches the color of my dress. He must’ve chosen it after I’d texted him a photo of the look I was going to wear to this.

Seeing him physically here, it’s almost impossible not to reach out to him. I step forward to close the distance between us, and every one of my senses is attuned to him—the way he tilts his head toward mine, the timbre of his voice, the scent of the cologne he’s wearing.

And my mind goes back to what he said before I turned around: “She’s right, you know.”

So of course the first thing out of my mouth is “If you’re talking about what Leah said, I already know not to slouch.”

He smiles, shaking his head. “I meant the other thing.”

“About folding my hands?”

“Ha. No, I’m talking about you being yourself. That’s why people are watching tonight.”

“Is it? I thought people were mostly here to see Tony Warren live and in person,” I say.

“No,you’rewhat the people want,” he says. “I watched the show. Did you?”

I nod. I cringed through so much of it, reliving some of my worst moments. But there were also some of my best, too.

“You stole the show. The crowd wants you. Or maybe I’m biased in this particular instance, because I’m very certain you’re whatIwant,”he adds softly, folding my hands in his, bringing them up to brush his lips against my knuckles.

My heart stutters in my chest, and I close my eyes.

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