Page 3 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“The one from the sitcom? You went on one date.”

“One and done.”

“They aren’t all like that.”

I can hear the concern threaded through her words. She’s worried about me being isolated in a new town for eight weeks with no one to talk to and no distractions from the pressure of the show. She probably thinks dating would be good for me.

“Well, I’m out of state, so I can’t go back on the app. I won’t even have time to message.”

I know that’s a lie, but I just can’t think of anything worse right now than talking to someone and having that awkward getting to know you conversation. What do you do? Oh, you’ve been a reality show contestant? Which one? It’s exhausting.

“I’m still mad at you for leaving me.”

I roll my eyes, even though I know she can’t see me. “It’s only a few months. I’m sure you’ll be too busy working to notice.”

“Weekends after work, though. Not having you as my wingwoman.”

I snort. “You mean entertainment.”

“That too.” She laughs.

“I’m sure it will be worse for me.”

“Why’s that?” she asks, and I realize I was supposed to respond to her, not myself.

I shake my head

“You’ll be bored. Or alone.” I can hear her genuine worry through her teasing.

My heart swells with warmth. “I promise, having some quiet… even boredom… is good. I might even be able to learn to bake.”

She coughs. “And not burn down the house?”

“Hey. I’m not that bad…”

We giggle at the same time, knowing I am hopeless at everything but work. It’s like a light switch… I just click into place and nothing fazes me. But as soon as I’m off, I’m tripping over my own feet, burning vegetables, forgetting where I parked.

“I’ll be blowing up your phone so much, you’ll be wishing I was leaving you alone.”

“No chance. I need my sister.”

“You have one.”

She has an older brother and a younger sister.

“Yeah, but I like you better.”

I suck in a breath, my chest tightening. “Don’t say that. Lyra is sweet.”

“You don’t have a younger sister to know how annoying they can get.”

“I don’t. I’ve just got you.” I’ve always wished for a sibling, but she’s as close as it gets.

“Lucky me.” She giggles, and we talk a little bit longer before I hang up and stare out the window, watching it change from open road to a mid-town. My pulse speeds up slightly. This is it. In a few minutes, I’ll be at the house. Tomorrow, I step onto set.

The anticipation crawls up my spine—part excitement, the other part nerves. I’ve waited so long for this moment. Now it’s here, it feels surreal.

I take in the sight before me. It’s cute and exactly like the photos. Shop fronts with hand-painted signs, flower boxes under every window, and a single road weaving through the town. The people are dressed in jeans, flannel shirts, work boots, ball caps. Casual clothes. I instantly know I have to tone down my look for the next few months if I want to blend in. My stomach sinks as I think about all the designer clothes and makeup packed into the suitcase. The Mui Mui sunglasses, the Reformation dresses, the Dior; everything that works for LA, but clearly not here.