Page 20 of Enemies Off Camera
A laugh slips out. I sound ridiculous even to myself.
Thankfully, Janet doesn’t catch the irony.
“I’ve worked on this show for five seasons, and not one of the couples lasted more than six months. But I thinkyou two? You’ll go the distance. Right, Missie?”
Missie—the hairdresser—stays quiet.
I glance over.
Her eyes are exaggeratedly wide. Wide enough to say everything she won’t out loud.
They know.
Everyone believes we’re a sham.
And they’re right.
But when I walk out on that stage, it’s my and Jaxon’s job to convince them not to believe their lying eyes, but to believeus—the two liars.
Ugh.
I hate that I have to do this.
THIRTEEN
2 Hours Later
First of all, I can’t say I’m baffled by what I’m watching unfold on camera.
According to Anne, Jaxon never even wanted to pick Ashley. He thought she was clingy.Clingy. But look at him now—pretending she’s so precious. Holding her hand, gazing at her like she’s a fallen star. The way he plays it, the world will think he didn’t choose herbecause she was too good for him.
And before Ashley even took the stage—red-faced and freshly tear-streaked—the other girls had already let him off the hook.
“He did not see the part of Zara that we saw,” Aimee, one of the more desperate cast members, said with theatrical resignation. “And that’s all I’m saying.”
One girl after another stood up to accuseme. Saying I played both sides. That I told them one thing and told Jaxon another. That I wasn't honest about my feelings. But then—just to keep their hands clean—they’d close their comments with lines like:
“But if they’rereallyin love, then I’m happy for them.”
Anne warned me last night how brutal this day would be. “They’re all under NDA,” she reminded me. “So… remember that.”
I’m repeating my mantra, trying to stay centered, but the words start crashing into each other like bumper cars. I’m losing my grip.
Do your job. Take the emotion out. Be professional.
This is the role. This is the role. This is the?—
Ashley breathes in deeply, shoulders rising like she’s about to sing a solo at the talent show.
“If you’re in love with her,” she says in her soft, princessy voice, “then who am I to get in the way?”
The crowd of women—the audience, the cast, the fairytale believers—erupt into applause like she’s just sacrificed her heart on a velvet altar.
I don’t need a teleprompter to know: I’m the villain.
I know it the moment Dave Lyons, the host, turns back to the camera and says:
“Well, we’ll hear from Jaxon’scontroversial pickwhen we return. But first, let’s relive Jaxon and Zara’s breathtaking journey of love.”
