Page 28 of One to Watch

But Bea didn’t care what Mustache Man had to say, she just needed to get through this, needed to get to the next break so she could talk to Lauren.

“It’s fine,” she insisted through gritted teeth. She willed her facial muscles to relax. “I’m Bea. What’s your name?”

“Uh—Sam,” he sputtered, thrown off by her bizarre behavior.

“Great!” She tried to sound normal, but her panic was bleeding through. “See you soon, Sam!” She gestured toward the risers, and off he went.

Two more until commercial, she thought. Keep it together. Two more.

The next man was already walking toward her, a laid-back guy with a golden tan.

“Hey, am I in the right place?” he joked. A few audience members laughed uncomfortably.

“I hope so!” Bea smiled. “I’m Bea, and you are?”

“Confused,” he retorted. “This is Main Squeeze, right? I’m on television right now?”

“If you’re not, I’m not totally sure what all the cameras are doing here.” Bea fought to maintain a light tone. This guy needed to move the hell along.

“Cool. Um. I think I’m gonna go?”

Bea’s heart stopped, and all the noise of the set—the hum of the generators, the grind of the cameras, the whispers of the audience—fell suddenly silent.

“What?”

“Yeah, I gotta—it was nice to meet you, though.”

And with that, he turned and walked offstage, passing man number five on his way. Bea closed her eyes, seized by a sudden compulsion to burst out laughing. What kind of a waking nightmare was this? What would happen if she left too? How would Lauren fill the rest of the hour?

“Hello, Bea. I’m Asher.”

Oh, the fifth man was here. He was really attractive—Asian American with black glasses and thick salt-and-pepper hair.

“Fantastic. The risers are right over there—or you can just leave now if you prefer?”

“What? Do you want me to leave?” Asher looked perplexed.

“Makes no difference to me!” She flashed him a grin that she was sure bordered on deranged, but she was fresh out of fucks to give about who these men were or how they saw her. Asher tentatively backed away and headed over to the riser, and then Johnny was onstage to close out the segment and take them to commercial, saying something about this dramatic season being off and running while Bea smiled and gazed blankly ahead.

“And we’re out!” a producer called as they cut to commercial. “Back in a hundred and twenty!”

A hundred and twenty seconds—Bea didn’t know what Lauren was going to say to force her to continue this torment in two minutes flat, but she was already rushing toward her.

“Bea! Bea, what the hell?”

“Are you kidding me?” Bea didn’t want to freak out in front of all these people, but she no longer felt above it, not after what had just happened. “These men hate me!”

“Bea, no—shit, shit, shit.” Lauren put her hands on her head, looking a little panicked herself. “I told that guy to walk off, okay?”

“What?” Bea was flabbergasted. “Why would you do that?”

“Ratings, Bea! People are going to vilify him and love you. They’re going to think you’re the bravest person on the planet, and they’re going to be desperately invested in you finding the perfect guy you deserve. But that must have felt awful—you had no way to know it was fake. I’m sorry, I should have told you beforehand.”

Something clicked into place in Bea’s mind—

“This was your plan to make America love me? To humiliate me on TV?”

“I’m seeing the flaws now.” Lauren grimaced.