Page 30 of The Love Dare
A gaggleof high-pitched voices passes by Winnie’s trailer, and nerves swirl through her stomach. All night, her insides have been acting like an old shirt on tumble dry, spinning and looping with every sound, every wayward thought, every hint that this night she’s been waiting six months for is actually here. It’s actually happening. She’s on the set ofThe Love Match. She’s wearing a slinky red halter dress that dips so low in the back her butt crack threatens to make an appearance. And sometime in the next hour, sheisgoing to stand in front of Tyler and finally tell him after so many years of pining exactly how she feels.
That was the third group of girls to walk by her isolated little hideout, which means there’s only one more limo-full left before it’s time to make her surprise appearance.
I’m going to throw up.
Winnie hugs her midsection and looks up into the vanity mirror, wincing at the panic evident in her wide hazel eyes. She’s not used to seeing herself without glasses, but that’s not the only thing that makes her reflection nearly unrecognizable. Her black hair cascades in the glossy, perfectly coiffed curl of an old-Hollywood actress. Her lips are stained a sultry crimson,far bolder than any color she’s worn before. The magician of a makeup artist who stopped by a little while ago contoured her entire face, adding definition to her cheekbones, emphasizing the heart-shaped curve of her jaw, making her already large eyes pop with a smoky effect.
The producers are clearly going for a vixen angle, and it’s not difficult to understand why. The sexier her look, the more likely in their eyes it is for Tyler to keep her and the easier it will be for the mean girls of the season to label her a harlot. Winnie gets it. The show is about ratings, and for ratings they need drama. For better or worse, that’s exactly what she’s supplying.
But will he buy it?
Is a little lipstick and a low-cut dress enough to erase the memory of his best friend’s awkward little sister with thick turquoise frames, highlighter-pink braces, and frizzy black waves that proved untamable in the Texas heat? Or is that all she’ll ever be?
Winnie wrings her hands in her lap. An odd mix of fear and hope blends in her gut. So much is riding on this night, on this one conversation, on this last chance to maybe change his mind. It’s about more than Tyler. It’s about what her life will look like after the cameras go down. She hasn’t told her parents that she quit her job as a junior designer to come film the show. She hasn’t told them that she’s taking a leap of faith and going full-time with her freelance art business. She hasn’t told them that with Sam moving in with her cowboy, she decided it was finally time to move on with her life too. She’s leaving New York for good. Her stuff is in storage. She has no idea where she’s going, just that she needs someplace new, someplace fresh, someplace Tyler hasn’t touched so when all this goes south, she can have the clean break she needs.
The sentiment is all too familiar.
The last time she completely upended her life, it was to run away from Tyler. Six years later, here she is again, this time crawling back. It’s enough now. Sam was right all those months ago when she pressured her on the phone—she needs to know, beyond any reasonable doubt, what he wants. Within the hour, she finally will.
A knock sounds.
Winnie centers herself with a deep, soothing breath, then calls out, “Come in.”
The trailer door swings open and a petite woman wearing a white T-shirt, leather pants, and biker boots with a one-inch platform stomps up the small set of steps. Her hair is buzzed to the scalp on one side while the rest of her stick-straight black locks hang in a severe bob held back by the comm set balanced on her head. She’s got a clipboard clutched in one hand and a wide, almost-surprisingly friendly smile across her lips. Nina Chen, in the flesh. So far, the producer hasn’t given Winnie any reason to dislike her, but she keeps Sam’s description of the woman in the back of her mind—She’s an anglerfish, Win. She’ll lure you close with that bright shiny grin, try to convince you she’s your friend, but don’t be fooled. She’s just biding her time for the perfect opportunity to bite.
“Hanging in there?” Nina asks as soon as the door shuts, her tone cheerful with the slightest edge of apology. “The first night is a bit of a doozy, but we just loaded up the last limo, so you’re next.”
“I’m fine,” Winnie answers, then winces. Every woman in the world knows what the wordfinereally means. So she concedes in the name of honesty. “A little nervous, obviously.”
Nina lifts her free hand to show off the champagne bottle she’s holding. “I thought you might want some liquid courage before you go out there.”
That’s nice, Winnie thinks, her initial urge always to see the best in people. Then her inner Samantha Peters comes out.Or you just want me drunk and belligerent.She swallows. “I probably shouldn’t.”
“Suit yourself.” Nina shrugs, opens a cabinet door, and pulls out two glasses anyway. She fills one for herself, takes a quiet sip, and then fills the other one. It sits on the counter like a silent offering. Winnie folds her fingers to stop from reaching. “So,” Nina continues conversationally as she leans her hip against the small counter, “have you thought about what you’re going to say?”
Anglerfish, Winnie thinks.Anglerfish.
She finds herself going on the offensive, that confidence and toughness New York inscribed brimming to the surface. “Sam warned me how you operate.”
“I figured as much.” Nina snorts into her champagne, then puts the cup down with a sigh. “Let me guess. Don’t believe a word I say? The only thing I care about is the show? I’d manipulate my own mother if it meant better ratings?”
“Something along those lines.”
“Well, she’s right.”
Winnie’s jaw drops with disbelief before she can stop it.
“What?” Nina asks, that smile suddenly turning sharkish. “She didn’t tell you to expect honesty too? Telling the truth is the best way to exploit people. They can’t dismiss it. There’s no plausible deniability. Lies are easy to brush aside. But a kernel of the truth, if it’s the right kernel, will stick there between your teeth, like a piece of popcorn you can’t pry free, small yet all-consuming.”
“And that’s why you came here?” Winnie crosses her arms, not sure if it’s in defiance or self-defense. “To make something stick?”
Nina takes another sip while her eyes lower and lift in an assessing once-over, then offers an unconvincing, “I just came to see how you’re doing.”
Winnie snorts. She’s not the pushover she once was. People like this don’t intimidate her anymore. “What happened to honesty?”
“You think you’re ready for honesty?”
She’s got nothing.“By all means. Have at it.”
