Page 60 of Fan Favorite

“Seriously, Peter,” she said, relaxing against the seat, “what’s going on? You drive me home and I reveal my deepest, darkest secrets in some sort of hidden camera footage? And then you’re free to go to the Chateau Marmont and smoke a doobie with Leonardo DiCaprio or whatever you Hollywood types do after work?”

He raised his brows. “‘Smoke a doobie?’ I didn’t know you had that in you.”

She smacked him in the arm.

“Careful, I’m driving!” They reached a stoplight and he turned to her. “Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to do something nice for you?”

“Only you would categorize ‘nice’ as putting my life at risk when you clearly don’t know how to drive.” They stared at each other for a moment before Edie ripped the chauffeur cap from his head. “You can’t fool me, Peter,” she said, inspecting the cap for electronics. “Really? No cameras?”

“Really. No cameras.”

“Well, in that case,” she said, placing the cap on her head, “do you mind if I unzip this dress? I cannot fucking breathe.”

“Whatever you need to do, my friend.”

Peter watched through the corner of his eye as Edie edged the zipper down her back. When the light turned green, he turned his focus back to the road. Edie relaxed against the seat and closed her eyes with a sort of dreamy look on her face. The chauffeur cap slid down her forehead.

He cleared his throat. “You hungry?”

Her eyes popped open. “Oh my god, I’m starving. Why don’t you people let a girl eat? It’s very rude to put a plate of food in front of a person and then be like, talk about your feelings, but do not, no matter what, touch this chicken piccata.”

“You’ll thank me later when there’s not a gif of you chomping into a cheeseburger all over the internet.”

“For the right cheeseburger, it’d be worth it.”

“There’s one of those Taco Bells with the margaritas not too far from here. What do you think?Yo quiero Nachos Bell Grande?”

She was delighted by his reference to the Taco Bell ads of the late nineties. “That’s my cat’s name,” she said, surprised. “Nacho Bell Grande.”

“I know that’s your cat’s name, Pepper. That’s why I suggested it. I do, in fact, listen when you talk.”

She looked at him and he could feel the energy shifting from lighthearted truce into something more complex. “Tell me the truth,” she said finally, her brow furrowed as much as her new Botox would allow. “After the whole volleyball thing—why’d you ignore me for three days and make me feel like you were mad at me, and then show up right before my one-on-one to make me feel shitty about a makeover thatyousupposedly wanted?”

“Edie. I’m the showrunner. I don’t—I can’t—produce individual contestants—”

“Oh, I know. You’ve mentioned the showrunner thing many times. It’s very impressive.” She flopped back in her seat, annoyed. “Except for some reason you were around a million times before, egging me on, giving me speeches about fighting for love, and then when something terrible happened, and you could’ve actually helped me, you let it be all my fault.”

“Edie, c’mon.” Without thinking he took one hand off the wheel and placed it on her leg, intending a sort of brotherly pat, but finding instead her thigh hot and bare and smooth. Suddenly Peter became aware of himself touching her, knowing he shouldnotbe touching her, except it felt surprisingly great to be touching her, and quickly he pulled his hand away. His heart was beating fast, and he was overcome by the need for the situation to be resolved, so he rocketed the limo over a curb and into a CVS parking lot.

“Look, Edie, what I was trying to tell you before, you’re not like the other girls—”

“This again? Peter! I get it! You’ve already made the ‘Edie isn’t as good as the other girls’ thing abundantly clear!”

“Will you just listen for a second!” he yelled.

She looked at him, wide-eyed.

Why the fuck was he yelling? Why did everything feel so fraught this season? What was he even doing here, driving around in the show’s prop limo in the middle of the night with a contestant when he should be at home in bed reading or fucking Siobhan? She stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, finally landing on the only thing there really was to say. He was surprised to find himself actually meaning it. “I acted like a jerk. What I keep trying to say, and clearly keep saying all wrong, is that you’re someone I could know in real life or something. You’re like, a real person, and while I like that a lot, in the context of this show, it’s changed things in a way that I find confusing, and sometimes, I’m a little slow to catch up. All right?” He paused. He was crossing all sorts of lines he knew better than to cross. Still, he kept going. “I’m sorry. I am. I should’ve checked on you after the volleyball game and before the makeover to make sure it was what you wanted. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel stupid. If anything, earlier, I just wanted you to know that you don’t need to change. Like, at all. I wanted to make sure you were okay. But I did it all wrong and it was shitty and I’m sorry.”

She looked at him, her face inscrutable for the longest time, until he couldn’t stand it.

“Edie, seriously! What more do you want? I stole a limo for you! I apologized! I want to take you to Taco Bell, which I realize isn’t Nobu, but it’s almost two in the morning and we both have to work tomorrow—”

“I’m going to provisionally accept this apology with the understanding that one”—she counted on her fingers—“you’re not going to make me look or feel stupid again; two, you’re going to stop disappearing because it makes it impossible to trust you; and three, in addition to the Nachos Bell Grande, I’m also going to need at least two Doritos Locos tacos. I’m not a ninety-pound vegan, and I don’t want you to treat me like one.”

Peter smiled. “Deal.” He turned the key in the ignition, and it was only when he was steering the limousinethunk thunk scrapeover a concrete parking divider that he remembered Carole Steele and the hospital strong-arming they’d just given Bennett, and for a split second while the limo descended, Peter wondered if he should mention the wholeYou’re going to propose to Edie or we’re going to ruin your lifething. But that would be insane. She would flip out. Never speak to him again. No, clearly the better plan was to continue manipulating everyone in the name of entertainment.

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