Disappointment flickers across Sammy’s face. “I hope you find your true mate.” She looks at me thoughtfully, reaches over, and clasps my hand. “I always thought you were special. You write and compose music with so much love and emotion. You deserve to have a meaningful relationship in your life.”
I look down at our hands. It is kind of her to say, but love, including a meaningful relationship, isn’t in the cards for me. “Thank you. That means a lot to me, especially coming from you.”
The man offstage with the headphones motions to Sammy again.
“Well, it’s that time everyone!” The audience grows wild with whistles and cheers. “Let’s play a game!”
My eyes widen. I was warned about this, but I honestly thought we took so much time already that I wouldn’t have to participate. I glance over to see my PR guy’s face. He shakes his head in caution. A part of me really wants to piss him off for his rude comments and annoying remarks throughout the week. This morning, he drank my coffee on purpose and then refused to stop to buy me another one.
Let’s just say he’s not my favorite person. I narrow my eyes and paste on myfuck you, Garysmile.
Turning my attention back to Sammy, I rub my hands together. “Let’s do this!”
Finally, it’s over. I make my way to my mother and assistant, Sixes, who moved from their seats among the audience to join our PR guy, Gary, and Anders, my head guard, backstage.
“Nice job. Cute act, by the way—playing all meek and innocent,” Gary sneers in a hushed tone.
I lean closer to him and, in just as low of a voice, reply, “I’m in this mess because of your great idea in the first place. Besides, it was also your idea to act like a bubbly idiot to throw people off.”
With a wide, fake smile, he looks around to ensure no one heard me. “No, you wouldn’t need to pretend to be a bubbly idiot if you had just chosen a mate in the first place, Princess.”
I roll my eyes, and he stalks off, letting my mother know he will meet us at my place later to discuss the plans with the production team.
My mother gives me a gentle smile and reaches for my hand when someone from behind me clears their throat. Anders takes a closer step toward me, and I put up a hand to stop him. A stagehand, or perhaps a cameraman, stands awkwardly nearby. This man isn’t a threat.
“Uh, excuse me, Alpha Princess. I’m sorry to bother you, and I know you probably want to get going… You see, there’s, uh… a little boy sitting over there.” He points toward the audience. “He’s asking if he can meet you. He… uh… he says he’s a huge fan of yours.” The poor guy is sweating as if I am going to bite off his head.
I smile to ease some of his nervousness. “A little boy?” I ask.
His shoulders relax. “Yeah. Cute kid. He made his nanny bring him here today. We don’t normally allow children in, so I was surprised to see him sitting in the audience seats. He really wants to meet you.”
I crane my neck. There he is—a little guy, not more than five or six years old, with jet-black hair, sitting next to a young, ash-blonde female.
Anders whispers in my ear, “I don’t think this is a good idea. It could be a setup.”
I watch the two. The little boy talks animatedly to his nanny, and she is intent on the conversation. They don’t seem like much of a threat. I look around them, and they’re alone. “It’s just a little boy and his nanny. If you’re so worried, come with me.” Turning to the man who made the request, I add, “Or would it be okay if you bring the boy and his nanny backstage?”
“That won’t be a problem. I can bring them now, if you like.” I glance at Anders. “Will that work better for you?”
His face is stern, and he doesn’t answer right away, probably calculating the risks to my safety either way. He finally nods, and the man leaves to escort the pair.
Chapter 2
A Son’s Choice
CONTESTANT #16
Reaching over, I gently remove the TV remote from my son’s hand. He sits next to me in my king-sized bed as we watchThe Tonight Showfeaturing the Alpha Princess Jessica Langhlam. He leans back, mirroring my posture, propped against the headboard with a couple of pillows against his back. His jet-black hair is smoothed down to perfection, and tonight, he sports a button-down, deep blue, pinstriped pajama set, instead of his usual favorites with cartoon characters. I smirk at his effort to dress up to watch a show on TV.
As the show is about to end, someone from the audience yells, “Sing a song!”
“Yeah, one of your songs!” a few more shout the same request.
“Sing?” the Alpha Princess asks.
The host suggests with his hands that the stage is hers. “Sure. Everyone’s excited now that they know you are the masked singer ‘G’. Go for it.”
The Alpha Princess approaches the band and whispers to them. As they play the opening chords to a song, she closes her eyes and starts to sing. I’m instantly enraptured by her beauty and her voice, and when the lyrics of the song resonate, a deep ache envelops my heart. The camera shows the audience, capturing them swaying to the music, and the host offers a wide grin as he watches her perform. The camera focuses on the Alpha Princess, and it catches a single tear falling from the corner of her left eye.
