Page 69 of The Billionaire Love Match

TWENTY

The last day was finallyhere.

In a few hours Casey would finish the filming of The Billionaire Love Match. Everything was still so hush-hush. The producers had sent Casey and Tessa to a hotel, likely because of the cost of renting out the gigantic mansion for two people. They each had their own room, but were across from each other. Somehow, now that it was just the two of them, it was awkward, and Casey was glad for the personal space.

It was almost time to get ready, but Mark the intern had pulled her into a meeting with the head of production first. “Hair and makeup will be in your room when you get back,” he said. “For the finale we’re going all out. You’ll have just enough time to get dressed. Do you know what you’re wearing?”

Casey nodded, smiling. She had saved a floor-length red dress in case she made it to the end. It went up over one shoulder, fitting tightly through the bodice and then draping over her. It looked Greek and set off her hair and eyes. She couldn’t wait for Colt to see her in it.

“You’re glowing,” Mark said. “Excited for the end?”

She nodded.

Mark leaned across the back of the car seat. “So is Colt.”

Casey wore the happy blush all the way into the office that Mark led her to down a maze of hallways in some building. “Good luck,” he said, and disappeared around the corner.

Casey knocked and she heard a woman’s voice call, “Come in!”

A woman. That was a surprise. For whatever reason, the challenges and the manipulations and all of the different aspects of the show made her assume that a man was running the whole thing.

“Come! Sit down, Casey.”

A beautiful older woman who looked slightly familiar stood on the other side of a massive desk. Her white-blond hair was smoothed into a ponytail at the base of her neck and she wore a light blue silk suit that screamed money. Other than an orchid in one corner and a closed file folder, the desk was empty.

As Casey sat, so did the woman. “Thanks for coming. This won’t take long, but we just needed to go over some things for the contract before we film the final segments.”

“Okay,” Casey said. “Didn’t I already sign away my firstborn child?”

The woman laughed, but it was a thin, humorless sound. “I know it seems that way. But this is a different contract.” She opened the folder and passed a stack of papers across the desk. Her fingers still resting on the top of the contract, she met Casey’s eyes. “This is an engagement contract.”

The back of Casey’s neck flushed with heat as she looked at the papers. “A what?”

“Engagement contract. We didn’t have this in the original contract because, well—we didn’t know how things would play out. But since it seems that Colt plans to propose, we wanted to make sure we had everything we needed filed away.”

“Okay,” Casey said.

But her mind had stopped with Colt plans to propose. Those four words played a loop in her brain, completely with a mental image of him down on a knee, his hazel eyes staring up at her as he waited for her response.

“Casey?”

“I don’t understand,” Casey said. She licked her lips. “Why do I have to sign something? And how do you know that...that—”

“That Colt is going to propose?” The woman smiled and folded her hands on her desk. Casey realized suddenly that she’d never said her name. “Let’s call it an informed hunch. As for the contract, it’s more of a bonus. You’ll receive a lump sum of $50,000, in addition to the salary from the show after the final episode.”

“Contingent on...what exactly?”

“Contingent on you saying yes, of course.”

“What if I wanted to say yes, but without a contract?”

“Let me understand: you could say yes and get $50,000, but you’d choose to say yes and not get $50,000. What’s the debate?”

Casey looked up and met the women’s gaze. Her eyes were also blue, but had a hardness to them, like ice or steel. “It just feels...strange.”

“I can see how it would, considering your current job situation and how little you make. Don’t let it be odd or awkward. This is business. Consider it a thank-you for your work on the show. All the ratings. If the term ‘engagement contract,’ makes you uncomfortable, just call it a bonus.”

“A bonus that I only get if I agree to marry Colt? Does he know about this?”

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