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I want this show to end so that I can move on.

Dax’s voice breaks through my maudlin thoughts. “We’re here. Put that gorgeous smile on your face and pretend you’re madly in love with me. You’re a good actress. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Ouch, a direct hit.

I want to make a snide remark back, but I don’t have any fight left in me. The last bit of adrenaline left in me needs to last until I can get through this last bit of hell.

I let myself out of the car and wait for Dax to meet me on the sidewalk. He comes sauntering around the back of the town car and stops by my side.

His hand reaches out and grabs mine, and I have to steady myself over the rush I get from his touch.

I glance up at him, but he’s not looking at me. Every time I see him, I swear he gets sexier and sexier. His dark brown hair has always been a little longer than is appropriate for a businessman, but now it seems to be longer, wilder, and not so perfectly styled. The look is good on him. I can picture his hands running through it in the way he is prone to do when he’s upset or frustrated.

I’m so focused on Dax, I’m unprepared for the onslaught of people that approach us as we are walking toward the building.

“Jess! Dax! Oh, my gosh, it’s really them!” calls out a lady from the crowd.

“Dax, can I have your autograph?” yells another as a notebook is shoved at his chest.

There are at least thirty people, mostly women, surrounding us. It’s hard to push through the crowd and even harder to get through the door to the newsroom. Two guards from inside the building have to force the crowd back so that they can swing open the door for us.

I feel Dax’s hand on my back as he forces me forward and into the building.

My heart is beating rapidly. I pulled away from Dax, and I’m now pacing just inside the door. I might have been low on adrenaline before, but it’s pumping at full force right now. I turn around and look at the crowd through the glass. It seems to have grown larger now, at least forty people.

Dax seems similarly startled. “Who are all these people?” he asks one of the security guards who helped us inside the building.

The guard chuckles. “It seems you two have some fans. They’ve been camped out here all day.”

“Dax, I don’t like this. Why are all those people here? I don’t understand,” I say nervously.

I’m still pacing, and he snatches my hand as I walk by. “Jess. Stop. It’s going to be fine. I’m not sure what’s going on, but we’ll find out.”

His warm hand and his soothing voice have an immediate calming effect on me. I look up at his face, and for the first time in weeks, I see something other than indifference. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he still cares.

“Dax, Jessica! So good you made it.” Kenneth calls out from somewhere behind us. When we turn, we see him practically bouncing our way. A humongous smile covers his face as he waves to get our attention.

Dax doesn’t wait for the show’s producer to reach us before he’s firing questions. “Kenneth, what the hell is this? And why weren’t we warned about what we were walking into?”

Undeterred, Kenneth claps Dax on the back. He’s glowing with uncontained excitement. “Isn’t this fabulous? You guys are famous! The show is taking off in a big way. Never even saw it coming. Let’s get upstairs. We’re anxious to do this interview.”

Dax’s hand tightens on mine, and we follow Kenneth to the elevators.

The slow ride up is quiet, though I know Dax is dying to question Kenneth further. He stays silent, though, and keeps holding my hand. At one point, I catch him looking at me.

When we arrive at the interview room it’s empty of people. Kenneth tells us to have a seat, and then he takes off with a promise to return soon.

With my free hand, I grab the bottom hem of my shirt and start fanning myself. I can feel my face heating up in the suffocating warmth of the small room.

“Don’t they believe in air-conditioning?” I whisper to Dax.

“It’s pretty chilly in here,” he replies back in an equally low whisper. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know. I’m freaked out,” I tell him in a slightly louder voice.

He chuckles, and the sound is so much like his old self that it brings a familiar ache to my chest.

Then, he seems to remember who he’s talking to. He drops my hand and walks to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between us as possible in the small room.