Chapter Two

Stalking out of the building after Ginger cleared him for safe sex, Elliot finally got his tie undone. Unbelievable. And that smirk on her face. Like this was all some big game.

Davis caught up with him on the sidewalk. “Don’t let her get to you, buddy. She’s under a lot of stress. You have to remember to wear a cup whenever you meet with her, because she’ll go straight for your—”

“Got it, Davis. Are we done here? I have some calls to make.” Elliot pulled out his actual phone to check the time. A short, ironic laugh escaped him. He’d tried for months to get Ginger’s number. Now, in less than twenty-four hours, it would be the only one he had.

His sister Anna had texted him half an hour ago to let him know her flight from Chicago took off on time. He’d have all day to tie up some loose ends for work before he met up with her later for drinks. With the season starting the next day, this date with his sister was his last chance at anything normal, and anxiety was setting in.

What he’d had to sign away to be there—three months of his life and potentially his own free will—wasn’t a choice he made on a whim. His entire life had narrowed to one option—let the process of 'Matched' work for him or keep repeating the same mistakes over and over until he died alone and forgotten by the world.

Mistakes like the one he’d made with Ginger: Expecting her to take him seriously after he made a complete fool of himself for Jenna last season. It was no wonder she’d blown him off. It wasn’t even ironic. It was karma. How many women had he done the same thing to over the years? Of course Ginger wouldn’t see how last season had changed him. How could she? They barely knew each other.

If he’d known he’d be working so closely with her, though, he might have had a last-minute opt-out clause written into the contract.

'Matched' was still his best option. The show’s success rate at happy endings was unparalleled. Ninety percent of its matches were still together, most married, some with kids and more on the way. And the couples all seemed satisfied enough. Maybe that was the bonus of dragging people you knew and trusted along for the ride. Davis might think his mom was a trip, but she knew a thing or two about what made a marriage work—and what made one fall apart.

Since it was his last night of freedom for the foreseeable future, he was looking forward to seeing Anna and Michelle, the other members of his Panel, to make sure their heads were on straight about the coming weeks and the decisions they’d be asked to make along the way. It was his final opportunity to be clear with them not only about what he wanted, but what he needed. More importantly, to make sure they understood what he didn’t need: another crushing disappointment.

'Matched' practically guaranteed the star a happy ending. The woman who stuck around until the end had to say yes if he and The Panel chose her. It was all in the contract. The only catch? The women he met tomorrow night were his only remaining options. He’d signed away his right to choose anyone else.

Which was why a conversation with his sister and best friend was critical. Elliot wanted as much say in The Panel’s decisions as possible.

That evening, while he and his sister Anna leaned against a gleaming wooden bar waiting to be seated at a swanky sushi restaurant in Hollywood, he tried his best to make his case for leading the way through the season. She’d be an easier sell than Michelle, who, as usual, was fashionably late.

“You having a say isn’t always going to be the point, Elliot,” Anna reminded him as she surveyed the LA scene for her first time. Her dark blue eyes sparkled, and the rosy lighting above the bar made her long platinum hair glow pink. Elliot couldn’t blame her for being excited. He’d been excited last season, too, before he’d known what it took to be on a show like this.

The sounds of glasses clinking and chopsticks scraping punctuated the murmured conversations in the candlelit dining area. It was an intimate spot. Romantic. Using a cocktail napkin, Elliot wiped his brow, overwhelmed.

Seeing him sweat, his sister rested a hand on his. “Remind me why we’re putting ourselves through this. Is it for the free house? The half-million dollars? Oh wait, no—you want the counseling, right?” She laughed.

“My life isn’t working,” he answered honestly. The incentives for coming on the show were great—a house wherever the couple chose, the money, six months of pre-marital therapy, but scanning the restaurant as he sipped his drink reminded Elliot of the real reason he’d signed on. No one stood out. That day was as gray and colorless as every day had been since he’d gone home to Chicago. He showed up at work, turned in his projects on time, used his Cubs season tickets, and went through the motions of a routine that used to be fun, but no woman had sparked his interest since the end of Jenna’s season. Not since that last night at the Hilton when he’d let himself indulge in the one thing he wanted since he’d stepped on set the first day—Ginger.

Not that what happened between them affected her life trajectory at all. Judging by her attitude that morning, and her lack of response to the dozen emails he’d sent her, that night hadn’t affected her, period.

But if his time on the show and his relationship with Jenna had taught him anything it was that he was ready to get on with his life, too. A family, a home, a partner—he wanted it all, and so he came back, for another chance to explore a side of himself he’d only barely glimpsed. The side that wanted more than one stolen night in a hotel room. “I’m sick of being alone,” he said, which was closer to the real truth. “This has to work.”

“The show’s got a pretty decent success rate. They must be doing something right.” His sister clinked her glass against his. “But I’m afraid—” She stopped herself short, biting her bottom lip like she already had secrets to keep.

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“What?”

Her face clouded with genuine concern. “Well…what if we have our eyes and our heart set on someone who’s totally sincere, and kind, and beautiful, and she thinks you’re God’s gift—”

“Sounds ideal, I like the way you’re thinking.”

She waved a hand to shut him up. “What if even with all that, there’s no spark? What if you aren’t feeling her?”

“I have a choice at the end,” he reminded her.

“Only after we’ve had a chance to eliminate your one true love.”

Elliot sent a flat look her way. “Then maybe we need to come up with a hand signal so you don’t do that.”

Anna frowned into her drink, contemplative, her pale hair falling forward to partially hide her face. The power of The Panel on 'Matched' would vary throughout the show. Initially, they’d have a save, a chance to keep a woman Elliot eliminated if they thought he wasn’t seeing all her potential for him. But then, about halfway through, the choice would shift, and The Panel would gain elimination power leaving Elliot the save for someone he pictured a future with. In the end, it would come down to two women, a Panel pick, and Elliot’s save. Ultimately, he’d be the one to choose his wife.

“I’m not worried about that,” he finally said. “Know why?”

Her shoulders dropped with relief. “Tell me. Take some of the pressure off.”

“Sparks die. So do flames. Marriages aren’t bonfires that burn for eternity. They have to be partnerships. There has to be an agreement about the future. It doesn’t need to be constant fireworks and mind-blowing sex. It should be based on teamwork.”

Anna’s hopeful expression glazed over. “Hot.”

“Forget chemistry. I’m not here to put on a show. I want someone who’ll remind me to take out the trash and keep my dental appointments. I want someone who knows what pillows look right on the couch. Someone who remembers to buy wedding presents more than an hour before the wedding—”

“You want a mom, sounds like.”

He gave her a firm stare. “I want kids.”

She snorted. “Since when?”

“Since forever. I want a functioning family unit. I want pancakes on Sundays and soccer practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I want homework and college savings accounts, and all the other stuff.”

“Diapers? Spit up? Sleepless nights?”

She may have been joking, but Elliot couldn’t have been more serious. “All of it.”

“Well, at least they’ll get to school on time if your Mrs. Wonderful’s in charge.” Anna set her hastily emptied drink down, glancing impatiently at the bartender to check in on them. Apparently, dealing with him required more forbearance and alcohol than usual. Pretty rich considering she’d started all this when she and his best friend had submitted an application to the show behind his back. When he’d gotten the call to meet with the casting directors for Jenna’s season, it had all seemed like fun and games. Now his entire future depended on it.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and Anna’s eyes lit up at the appearance of Michelle.

“Sorry I’m late.” Elliot’s best friend tucked a strand of dark, chin-length hair behind her ear as she slid her petite frame gracefully onto an adjacent stool. The sharp scent of her expensive perfume filled the air. “How many drinks do I need to catch up?”

“This is our first.” Elliot managed to snag the bartender’s attention. “What are you having?”

“Pinot, and tell him to leave the bottle.”

With a grim sigh, Elliot ordered and finished his own drink in a single gulp, letting the alcohol scald the back of his throat. Michelle’s presence managed to remove some of the weight from his shoulders. They’d been doing life together since high school. She had the kind of confidence most people only pretended to have. Occasionally it rubbed off.

Every bold move he’d made in his life could be traced back to her influence—asking Skye Tisdale to prom, reconciling with his absent father, earning his latest promotion, and finally convincing himself he had what it took to be a reality TV headliner. So far, she hadn’t steered him wrong.

Anna and Michelle exchanged compliments and light kisses on the cheek.

Both women looked their best for TV. Hair freshly cut and colored, skin toned and tanned. He knew for a fact neither of them had touched a carbohydrate for the last three weeks.

“What are you looking for in Elliot’s wife?” Anna asked Michelle.

Michelle turned her heavily lined dark eyes on Elliot, giving him a long, careful appraisal. “Someone who makes him laugh to start with.” She reached up and gave one of his cheeks a tight pinch. “Jesus, Elliot. Lighten up. You’re literally the luckiest man in town.”

“Wanna trade places?”

Michelle glanced at Anna. “Making him laugh is pretty much my only criteria. If she can do that, I’d have no doubt about her ability to spin gold from straw and turn water into wine.”

“I laugh,” Elliot mumbled, his cheek still stinging.

The bartender served Michelle’s drink, and she grabbed for it. “You also get too consumed by passion. There’s way more to life than that.”

Elliot gave his sister an I-told-you-so look.

Anna flattened her gaze at him. “It’s not about remembering to take the trash out, either.”

Michelle chuckled. “You want someone organized, too?”

Jesus. If he wasn’t careful how he phrased things he was going to wind up married to his mom. “I want someone who knows how to make life work.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Michelle’s hand landed on his leg, giving it a squeeze. It was about as close as Michelle ever got to hugging.

Big emotions rose like floodwaters at the edges of Elliot’s thoughts, compelling him to change the subject fast. “Either of you want to give me any insider information as to what kind of tasks I have ahead?”

Michelle and Anna shared a knowing look. His sister responded. “We’re sworn to secrecy.”

Elliot wasn’t the only one who’d had to sign his freedom away in a series of contracts to be here. This was the last time he’d get to have a candid conversation with his best friend for months. At home they texted each other every waking hour of every day. For the next several weeks neither of them would have a phone that was made in this century.

Anna defined the point further by adding, “You’re lucky we’re even allowed to see you tonight. Your producer, Ginger? She was ready to lock us in our hotel rooms. Michelle had to fake a panic attack.”

Elliot stiffened, directing his words at his friend. “You saw Ginger?”

Michelle gave him a suspicious glance. “I talked to her on the phone.”

“And?”

“And she said we could have drinks. You sure you’re okay?” she asked with a concerned frown.

His throat was about to fully close, so he didn’t even try to answer her.

Michelle gave his thigh a firm pat. “Relax, babe. Enjoy the ride. Tomorrow night you’ll meet some great women who want you more than they want to live their real lives.”

“And,” Anna chimed in, “you’ll be having amazing experiences and getting totally indulged.”

“With no internet access,” he added as Ginger’s smirking grin came to mind.

Michelle laughed. “People are gonna be shaving your face for you, babe.”

“They’re not gonna indulge me. They’re gonna put me through the wringer.”

Anna sighed. “Relax, Elliot. We all want this to work as much as you do.”

“It has to,” he said to Michelle, the only person who’d ever seen him break.

She took his hand with a grip strong enough to drive out most of his doubt. “Stop worrying. You’ve got this.”