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“Where is Phoebe? She’s usually here with the contestants.”
He waves off my query. “She doesn’t work here anymore.”
My mouth drops as I take in his words. “Did she get fired too? Jacobs should be ashamed of himself. If he let a pregnant woman go, that’s just low.”
Frankie leads me to the edge of the stage and replies, “I will fill you in later. I promise.” He hands me the question cards and adds, “Good luck.”
Stu introduces me, and someone I don’t know—I’m guessing Phoebe’s replacement—points to the stage. I walk out onto the stage with the studio lights burning my retinas.
This is stupid. This is stupid. This is stupid.
“You may remember Kenna Frye from a previous session. All signs pointed to a grand romance with her chosen bachelor after Kenna appeared on the show the first time, but things didn’t pan out as we all hoped they would. The producers wanted to give her a second chance. Audience, let’s give it up for Kenna Frye.”
The audience claps as I take my seat on the female side of the stage. While the three men are brought out on the other side of the partition, I wonder how any of them will be better than Pryce. Will they have ridiculous answers? Could any of them kiss like he does? I shake my head to get those thoughts out of the way. Each of the bachelors says hello, and all of their voices sound eerily familiar, but maybe I’m just still messed up from the previous game.
I take a deep breath and collect my thoughts as I review the first question. “Bachelor Number One, if you were to take a class just for fun, what would it be?”
“Definitely origami. Paper art is very cool.”
“That sounds fun. What about you, Number Two?”
“I think I’d want to take cryptozoology.”
Smiling for the camera, I reply, “I’m not sure what that is. Can you explain it?”
“It’s the study of cryptids, silly. Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot… stuff like that.”
The audience mumbles in hushed tones.
“Very interesting,” I say. It really isn’t, but if it keeps this horrid embarrassing day moving forward, I’m all for it. “Number Three?”
He clears his throat, and in a husky, very familiar voice says, “Rock climbing. I have this incredible fear of heights, but I need to face my fears, and I think I could do it with you.”
No way. That can’t be. I glance to my right to where Frankie stands just offstage. He gives me a thumbs-up.
Stu says, “Let’s keep this moving. What is your next question?”
I clear my throat and do my best to tamp down my nerves. “From the little that you know of me, what would your nickname be for me? Number Two?”
“Cutie patootie, for sure.” The audience gets a kick out of his response.
Not letting him get a chance to explain, I move on. “Number Three?” I have to hear that voice again.
“If I can gather anything from your voice, I would say you are petite. So my name for you would be Small Frye.”
My hands tremble, sending my cards to the floor.
“Oops,” Stu says as he picks them up for me. “Isn’t live filming fun?” The audience laughs as I blow out a breath.
Stu hands me the cards. I flip through them with shaking fingers to get to my last question. “Number Three, it’s Christmas, and I am Santa. What would you ask me for?”
“Forgiveness.”
It’s him. I know without a shadow of a doubt now. Pryce is bachelor number three again. My heart pounds at a pace that might cause it to explode in my chest. I’m not certain what he’s trying to accomplish, but butterflies are doing somersaults in my stomach.
“Bachelor Number Three, what’s the biggest regret you have?” I ask.
“That’s an easy one. Not telling the girl I met eight years ago that I think she is the most wonderful person I’ve ever known.”
