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“Then what kind of interview did you have?” I’m confused.
She tips her chin up and to the side before arching one eyebrow—it’s the look she always has when she’s got news. She pauses for long enough to make me nervous. “I met with a producer fromMidwestern Matchmaker.”
“How did I not know this before it happened?” I thought Paige told me everything.
She grabs a bowling ball off the rack and puts it next to Sammy and Jamie’s on the ball return. Then she sits down to put her shoes on. Meanwhile, we’re all staring at her for more information.
“The night after we saw the first season, I went onto their website and filled out a form with my information. I know Trina said they weren’t filming here until next year, but she misspoke. It turns out, they need to start filmingthiswinter, so they have the season edited and ready to air next year.”
I don’t care about semantics. “Again,” I ask, “why didn’t you tell me before you met with them?”
She lifts one foot and rests it on her opposite knee while putting on one of her bowling shoes. “Honestly, I was a little embarrassed.”
“Why? I thought you wanted us to do that show together?” I say.
“Yeah, but you’d already gone onto Catch.com and met Tim. I figured you two would wind up together and I’d be hanging on my own.”
“Tim didn’t work out,” I remind her.
“Which is why I told the producer all about you, and she wants to meet you when she comes back through the area in two weeks.”
“Really?” Huh. Maybe I have an alternative to online dating after all. I glance at Jamie to see how he’s reacting to hearing this news. His face is positively deadpan.
Sammy jumps to her feet, taking turns looking between us. “You’re going to be on TV?!”
“Maybe,” Paige and I say at the same time.
That’s when Jamie voices his opinion. He derisively scoffs, “No one ever finds their life partner on television.”
“Excuse me?” Watch out, Paige is about to go on a rant. She’s nearly gotten her master’s degree on this topic. “First of all, there’s Sean and Catherine from season seventeen ofThe Bachelor. They got married and have three kids. Then there’s Whitney and Keith from season twenty-three ofSurvivor.”
“Don’t forget Rachel and Brandon fromBig Brother,” I remind her.
“And Steven and Allison from So You Think You Can Dance,” Paige continues. “Would you like me to go on? Because I can give you another two dozen couples, easy.”
“No need,” he says. “I’ve never watched those shows and I don’t plan on starting.”
“Even if I’m on?” I’m doing my best to sound innocent, but the truth is, I want to see if he’s jealous.
“Especially if you’re on,” he growls before turning around to pick up his bowling ball.
When his back is turned, Paige whispers, “What’s his problem?”
“I’ve been keeping something from you, too,” I tell her. Making sure that Sammy is otherwise occupied—currently cheering for her dad who is just about to take his turn—I whisper, “Jamie and I have been kissing.”
“What?! When? How? Why? Where?”
“All questions a good reporter would ask,” I joke. Then I come clean. “It’s been about two weeks. It started the day we took Sammy to the mall.”
“You kissed in front of her? What does she think?”
I shake my head. “We did not kiss in front of her, so she doesn’t think anything. Also, you should know that Jamie does not want to date me.”
“What is he doing kissing you then?” She looks like she wants to pick up her bowling ball and throw it at him. I probably wouldn’t stop her.
“I kissed him first,” I tell her.
She jolts back in shock. Historically, I have not been one to throw myself at men. “Really? How did that happen?”
