Page 15 of You're The One
“Oh, no. I’m a country singer,” she explains, lowering her voice. “My agent thought this would be good exposure.”
I nod, and she follows up with, “What about you?”
How do I explain that I don’t have a real job? That I’m still figuring it all out? I probably should’ve anticipated this question. I bet my subtitle will readTwenty-Two, Unemployed Loser. Or maybe something more optimistic, likeHopeful Wanderer.
“I’m between jobs,” I reply, which sounds as good as anything else.
“Why’re you here?”
I lean in because apparently, we’re not supposed to tell the truth. “An escape?” I whisper. It comes out sounding more like a question, but that’s exactly what this is for me.
She squeezes my hand gently, and I decide right then that I’m going to like her.
The hum of chatter dies as everyone’s attention shifts behind me. I glance over my shoulder, spotting Dominic as he steps into the room. I twist to follow him with my gaze before settling back in my seat.
He stands at the front of the room, all eyes locked on him, in his perfectly tailored suit and slicked-back hair. The scruff on his jaw is trimmed down to a faint five-o’clock shadow. It seems production couldn’t convince him to get rid of the mustache. His lips twitch with a hint of a smile.
I’m certain the whole room is swooning, but I’m fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
“Hi,” he starts, clearing his throat. “Good evening, ladies…”
Cue the dramatic speech.I can’t hold back that eye roll any longer.
“Tonight marks the beginning of our journey to find love…”
Oh boy. Here we go.
“You’ve all come here for the same reason as me. To open your hearts, take a risk, and hopefully walk away with something real. Over the coming weeks, we’ll face challenges, surprises, and maybe even a little drama?—”
He winks.He freakin’ winks.
I shift my eyes around the room, careful not to move my head, until I spot the cue cards he’s reading from.
“—but through it all, the goal remains the same: to build arealconnection that lasts far beyond the final episode.”
Ha. Doesn’t he know none of this is real?
Of course he doesn’t. And watch—because everything always works out for Dominic Fox—he’ll somehow walk away withtheone. Because he’s… him. And he always gets what he wants. With that wide smile, too-white teeth, and those stupid dimples.
“I hope you’re ready, because I know I am,” he finishes.
I celebrate the end of his speech by downing the rest of my champagne.
He flashes that blinding smile and raises his glass of what I’d bet anything is Perrier. The guy doesn’t even need booze to bethathappy.
Must be nice.
I stand with the rest of the women, lifting my empty glass and pasting on a fake smile of my own. If I want to stay, I’ll have to at least pretend to play along.
Before our glasses even separate, Victoria—donotcall her Vicky, already made that mistake—sidles up to his side. “Can I steal you?”
And so it begins.
Dominic smiles at her, this time without teeth, his gaze dipping to her exposed cleavage just quick enough to miss the cameras. Because of course. Victoria looks exactly like the kind of woman he spent all summer chasing. The type he’salwaysphotographed with. And there’ve been plenty.
I wasn’t exaggerating with the roster comment. I almost feel sorry for the girls here who are bound to fall for his charm.
“Sure, let’s go.” He offers her his elbow and leads her out of the room.
