Page 88 of Repairing the Wreckage

“What season?” Hayden pushes her plate away, picks up her phone, and starts swiping her fingers across the screen.

Jenn shrugs and stabs her fork through three layers of pancakes. “I don’t remember.”

“Don’t they make them sign agreements not to talk about the show and stuff?” Darcy asks. “How do you know if that’s even true?”

“Technically, it wasn’t talking about the show, if other people came forward and said, ‘hey I attended that chick’s wedding last year, why is she on a dating show now?’ Right?” Jenn lifts her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Okay, fair.” Darcy nods.

All of this is giving me a headache. I wish I’d never opened my mouth at all. In fact, if I’m wishing for things, I wish I’d never gone to Zips last night. No one—except Griff—understood my stupid devil bunny costume. Everyone else thought I was some weird dominatrix with a bunny fetish. Forget the costume. Seeing Griff again after so much time had flipped my heart upside down.

“Well, Griff wasn’t supposed to be on a dating show at all,” I remind them. “It was supposed to be about becoming the best cage fighter.”

“Hey, remember Redneck Roadhouse?” Kyla says with an eager edge to her voice. “The one your friend Shelby Morgan was on?—”

“She’s not my friend,” I correct. Friend. I wish. I’ve gotten to talk to Shelby once and I made a total ass of myself. “Remy knows her fiancé.”

“Yeah,” Darcy says slowly, her eyes widening as she comes to a realization about something. “Shelby ended up in the middle of a love triangle with Ruby what’s-her-tits and that other guy while she was on that show.”

“No,” Kyla says. “Shelby did an interview not that long ago and said that was all fake.”

“Right! The show said they were going to sue her and then—” Darcy snaps her fingers and lowers her voice. “Dawson Roads told ‘em go ahead and try it,” she finishes in a terrible impression of the famous country singer’s Tennessee accent.

“Why would he care?” Hayden asks. “Isn’t he like eighty?”

Darcy shakes her head. “He’s like thirty something.”

Hayden shrugs. “Old dudes don’t interest me.”

“Shelby’s on his record label now,” Kyla answers, ignoring them. “Told them he had better lawyers.”

“Who knew you cared this much about country music,” Hayden mutters while scrolling through her phone.

“I read everything Sippin’ on Secrets posts about everyone.” Kyla lifts her chin, not embarrassed.

“Please, she stalks their IG so much, they blocked her.” Darcy giggles and shoves Kyla.

“They did not.”

“How is any of this helpful?” I ask, poking my fork into my pancake.

“Ah-ha!” Hayden lifts her hand in the air to get our attention even though we’re all less than three feet away from her. “That Sidespeed Salmon Productions or whatever company that produced Griff’s show, also produced Matchmaker Mansion. I knew I’d seen that big tacky house before. It was decorated totally different inside but the pool, two gyms, the sauna, it all looked familiar.”

“No way.” Darcy grabs Hayden’s phone and stares at the screen.

“So what?” I swivel on the stool and cross my arms over my chest. “Who cares?”

“They’re devious. They’ve been sued a bunch of times by former contestants.” Hayden holds out her phone to me, but I shake my head.

Who gives a pickle about lawsuits? “Are there more pancakes?” I ask Kyla, lifting my chin at the stove.

“Wait.” Jenn holds up both hands. “Molly, you said you watched the show again. What do you think?”

“Nothing.” I shrug. “I’m probably just…seeing what I want to see.”

Hayden’s busy on her phone again.

“Molly. You are killing me.” Kyla wraps one of her hands around her throat. “Killing. Me.”

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