Page 20 of The Final Rose

“Today… it felt rigged.”

“Rigged?” She seems to pay attention.

I lift a shoulder she can’t see. “You are clearly pulling for Vera, and I don’t know your motives. I feel you’re steering me one way and I’m letting you do it because I don’t know any better.”

I finish talking, and she takes a moment to reply, and I know I just poked my finger in the right spot.

“Callie…” I start, but she finally talks again.

“No, no. It’s not rigged. But hey, you say you know nothing about them yet? We know plenty. Our casting had loads of interviews with all the girls and now that I know you, I can match you properly. It’s in the show’s best interest to see your happy ending.”

“So, you truly think Vera is for me?”

“I know she’s kind, smart, and adorable in a very real, dorky way.”

“And you think that’s my type?” I’m messing at this point because she just nailed it. That description is pretty much my type. The girl next door with wit and sarcasm. And maybe shapely legs and a nice bum…

And now I’m imagining Callie and the way her denim shorts fit her so perfectly. I’m thinking of her quick comebacks with that throaty voice of hers and the wicked grin she gets when she pulls my leg.

“Listen,” she starts, unaware of my unrequited lust. “I get to know a lot of guys, in and out ofThe Final Rose–”

“Let’s talk about the ones you met out…”

“Ha! Only your love life may be discussed in these phone calls.”

“Who made that rule?”

“Are you drunk? Me! Just now.”

“I didn’t know we could make rules willy-nilly like that.”

“Riggs, listen to me. I can see you’re for real and she’s for real, too. I think you both can get along. And I’m not saying she’s the one, ok? Things change, but I think you should give her a chance.”

Her words put me at ease, as much as I don’t want to admit.

It’s not Vera or the girl I let go that put me on edge, but how quickly I took Callie’s direction. I need to keep my eyes open during this damn show, but instead of protecting myself, I’m here chatting on the phone with the field producer.

It’s just bad all around and makes me feel dumb to take Callie’s word. I can’t stop myself from taking her friendship. It’s addictive. Every time we banter, I crave more. I can’t just keep her at arm’s length. I just can't.

“I’m going to give her a chance.” I finally agree, like I hadn’t promised that before. “We are going on a date, aren’t we?”

“With five more people.”

I groan, “Callie…”

“Hey, I did my best. It was supposed to be seven girls. You can’t have one-on-ones all the time. It’s just getting started, and it’s a mess at first. There are too many of you and–”

“And if you can’t have a camera on all of our faces, what’s the point?”

“It’s not as cynical as you believe.”

I chuckle and ask, “Do you believe inThe Final Rose?”

“Sure do. I get a deposit in my bank account every month, proving they are indeed real.”

“Cute.” And she laughs at her cleverness. “But if you could be one of the contestants? Or the main single? Would you?”

“I don’t think I could be on TV.”

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