Page 96 of Fan Favorite

Edie looked to the altar, where Adam Fox held a padfolio with the ceremony script in one hand and pulled at the crotch of his tux with the other. He rose to his tiptoes and did a little hop. Good lord, Edie could not worry about Adam Fox’s junk right now, all she wanted to know was—

“Have you seen Peter?” she asked, searching the crowd.

“Not yet,” Max said with a smile.

As soon as Edie and Peter had walked back into the Alpina Gstaad in Switzerland, their plans for a romantic trip to Paris were derailed. They were immediately summoned back to New York and shuttled straight into Carole Steele’s conference room in Midtown to begin negotiations. Edie had never seen anything like it, and honestly, it scared the shit out of her. Lawsuits, contracts, NDAs, hundreds of millions of dollars on the line—what the hell did Edie Pepper know about any of that?

But Peter—Peter Kennedy was all over it.

Hour after hour that day, Peter and Carole went head-to-head, breaking only for calls with their respective lawyers, Peter’s agent, and the production and public relations teams as they hammered out not only a mutually acceptable plan for the finalKeyedit, but also for Edie and Peter’s future.

“We’re gonna have to make some concessions,” Peter told Edie in the hall later. She couldn’t help noticing that the cuffed sleeves of his button-down and single-minded businessman vibe was giving Don Draper, and it was seriously hot.

“Like what?” she asked, feeling Paris slipping further from her fingers just as she wanted more than anything to be—ooh la la—slipping into bed with Peter.

“It’s manageable. We’ll agree to a narrative for the season and then support that narrative when we’re asked to. So, if they need you to do reshoots to build the story or do press down the line to reinforce the narrative—stuff like that. Once the season’s over the finish line, I’ll leave the show and forfeit my bonus and any back-end incentives. They’ll agree to no future litigation, and we’ll all agree to a clause that precludes the network from talking about us and us talking about the network. The cast, the production team, everyone will be reminded of their NDAs. And”—he ran a hand through his hair and looked away beforemeeting her eyes again—“we’ll agree not to be seen in public together, or have any sort of public relationship, for an agreed-upon period of time.”

Edie’s eyes went wide. “How long?”

“You know,” Peter hedged. “Not that long. A couple of months, maybe.”

“How long, Peter,” she demanded.

He sighed. “Until Bennett and Bailey get married. Or one year from today. Whichever comes first.”

Edie’s jaw dropped. “What do Bennett and Bailey have to do with this? Are they even engaged?”

“They are, in fact, engaged. And by all accounts, deliriously happy.” Peter stepped closer to her, took her hands in his. “The thing is, the network thinks when it comes out that we’re together, it will ruin the show for good. The fairy tale’s already tenuous enough, and a producer falling in love with a contestant—it exposes how unreal this reality is. But they think if Bennett and Bailey get married, everyone will be so focused on that that when we say we got together months after filming ended, no one will care. They think because of our ages, it will sort of… make sense.”

“Wait, what does that mean? Because of our ages?”

Peter searched for the right words. “You know, just because we’re older than most of the cast, it could make sense that we might gravitate toward one another—”

“They’re age-shaming me? I’m thirty-fucking-five!” Exhausted and running on little sleep and food, Edie was getting heated now, waving her finger around. “And even if I was ninety-eight, if I wanted to get married, I wouldn’t let some fucking TV network tell me—”

Peter took her by the shoulders. “Edie! Come on, this isn’t even the important part!”

“What’s the important part?” she asked slowly.

Peter smiled. “For one, I love you. For two, I have a plan. A live TV wedding. A total ratings bonanza. Right after the finale airs—the wedding.”

“Peter, the finale doesn’t air for three more months!”

“Three months…” Peter started nodding like it was perfect. “I can get them to agree to three months. We’ll hide out. We’ll get Brad Pitt’s security team on it if we have to.” He looked at her, pleading with those intense green eyes. “It’s three months in exchange for the rest of our lives. Trust me. It will work.”

Now the three months were finally up. The Beach Club’s double doors swung open again and a radiant Bailey started down the aisle. Edie’s heart soared—with love for Charlie and Bailey and their happy ending, of course. But also, because over the past ninety days, Peter had proven to Edie, in a myriad of ways, that he meant every single thing he’d said on that mountaintop. She searched for him in the crowd until finally he appeared in the doorway, incredibly handsome in a tailored black tuxedo. Jessa, in a simple black gown and production headset, was whispering to him. He had his head inclined to listen, but his eyes? His eyes were on Edie.

Instantly, her body was on fire. They hadn’t been in the same room together since three weeks ago in Connecticut, surviving only on texts, phone calls, and the occasional email Peter would send in the middle of the night containing some of the sexiest content Edie had ever read in her life. Her heart started beating fast, and it took everything she had to stay rooted to her spot. Edie forced herself to focus on the ceremony, on Charlie’s eyes filling with tears as he recited his vows, until, finally, it was time to kiss the bride, and the crowd was cheering, and Bennett and Bailey were laughing and smiling and heading back down the aisle. Peter, per usual, was nowhere to be seen—he’d goneback to work.

But this time Edie knew he’d be back.

The reception was predictably beautiful, extravagant but tasteful, and Edie let herself be swept up in it all. Reunited with Zo, Aspen, McKayla, and the rest of the season’s girls at the cocktail hour, Edie was astonished that everyone was so friendly. Edie supposed they were trauma bonded now. She posed for pictures with the massive bridal party, and then posed for more with formerKeycontestants and friends of the happy couple who were also somehow now Edie’s fans. Jessa corralled her into the Beach Club’s lobby for an on-the-fly interview where she gushed about how happy she was for Bennett and Bailey and even snagged a hug from her camera guy Ted, who’d been instrumental in Edie’s own happy ending. Over the lobster dinner, she gossiped and laughed with Max until her cheeks hurt. Occasionally she’d see glimpses of Peter conferring with the top network brass or striding toward the lighting team to request some adjustment, but she did her best to abide by the contract she’d signed and pretend like she barely knew him, until finally she found herself on the packed dance floor with an entire coterie of drunkenKeycontestants surrounding Bennett and Bailey as they sung along to Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the USA.” Bennett had his shirt unbuttoned and his black tie strung festively around his head, and Bailey was laughing as he twirled her, the trumpet skirt of her gorgeous lace gown rising and falling as she spun. Wyatt Cash himself was screaming at Edie over the din, something about a “collab,” when suddenly a hand cupped the bare skin where her neck met her shoulder, and the heat of his body formed to the back of hers. Instinctively she closed her eyes and leaned into him. He whispered in her ear.

“Let’s get out of here.” His hand slid forward and down her chest, sending shockwaves through her body. She bit her lip. “Meet me out back in five.” And then, before anyone even noticed, he was gone.

“You can do my podcast from wherever!” Wyatt yelled to her as he shimmied. “You can come to the studio, or I can send you a Zoom link—it’s super easy! The gays are obsessed with you!”

“Awesome!” Edie nodded. “Can’t wait!” and then she was threading her way off the dance floor and directly into Carole Steele.

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