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Her eyes narrow. “Yes.”

I clear my throat. “Well. You want someone smart. You want someone who stands out…” I rush to explain. “I watched the last three seasons in preparation for today. What became apparent to me was that the winning contestants were sort of your average yoga-loving, astrology-believing, Cosmo-drinking women. But the runners-up… that’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it?” Elena nods. “Well, the runners-up were kooky. They all had big personalities and an easily identifiable schtick. Remember the woman who loved alligators? Or the one who was a rodeo champion? They had something easy to reference.”

Marcus strokes his chin again.

“Could we get somebody we already know is smart and have them fake it till they make it?”

“Definitely,” Hana agrees.

Elena crosses her arms. She looks unconvinced. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find another perfect specimen? Melanie was perfect. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfecttetas. She was a power yoga instructor in her spare time. Have you ever tried to touch your heels to the back of your head? Because Melanie could. She was the whole package.”

I wonder what Elena would say about me right now. My long copper-colored hair is a frizzy mess. My comically large glasses are smudged. My oversized T-shirt looks like something a toddler would swim in.

I’ve never been hip or magnetic like Jay. He’s the guy with the perfect Instagram life. I’m the girl in the background, hiding behind a camera.

Basically, I’m none of the things that made Melanie perfect. What does that leave for the rest of us? Not much.

“You have pretty eyes, carina.” Elena reaches out and smooths back my hair. “So green! You should wear your hair up more, let those eyes do some of the talking for you.”

I’m entranced by her touch. Gulping, I nod. Then Elena gives me a once-over. I can almost see the gears in her head turning.

I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“What about a ringer?” Elena wonders aloud. “If we used someone from the crew, we could control the storyline.”

Marcus’s eyes light up. “That would be a lot cheaper than hiring someone new. We could script the drama. Make it more believable.”

I scrunch my face. “Sure…”

“What about you?” she asks. She tilts her head.

My stomach does a somersault. My very first thought isno. Absolutely not. This is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas.

“I—I’m not really camera material,” I squeak out. Elena doesn’t blink. I try again, louder. “This isn’t exactly in my job description.”

Plus, Ryan is the bachelor. I’d be… competing for his affections? Ugh, gag me with a spoon. I’m supposed to flirt with him? The same guy who told me last night that we’re strangers?

Elena tilts her head. She’s still staring at me. “You wouldn’t have to ‘win’ the show. The bachelor would just be instructed to keep you on until the end. We need drama.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I blurt out. “Like, at all.”

Ryan aside, I do not have the sparkly personality necessary to be on a show like this. I would die under the spotlight. I didn’t even want my senior yearbook photo retaken when I had the flu. I’ve spent my entire life ducking the spotlight. What the hell makes them think I belong in front of a camera now?

“Would you do it if I asked nicely?” She pauses. She considers her next words. “We need you to fill in for Melanie. We’ll glam you up. Make sure you get close to the end. We’re not askingfor you to actually fall in love with our bachelor. What do you think?”

Me, captured on film while I try to pretend not to hate Ryan? I can’t think of a bigger nightmare.

“I’m really more comfortable behind the scenes.” My voice is shaky. “I’m a shy girl. Uncomfortable on camera. I don’t even like having my picture taken.”

Elena isn’t listening. Or maybe she’s ignoring me. Her lips purse. She’s studying me like a puzzle she’s determined to solve.

“Your brother, he is very successful, no? Very… visible. Always in the spotlight with his influencer business.” Elena’s tone is casual, but there’s something calculating in her eyes. “You must be tired of being in his shadow all the time.”

My cheeks flush. How does she know about that? How does she know exactly where to hit me where it hurts?

“Would you like a hundred thousand dollars? I could arrange that to be your bonus if you played along. Plus, a promotion. You would be helping me out, Wren. I would consider it a personal favor.”

A personal favor and a hundred grand? My mind races. The promotion would mean job security. My first venture outside of working for Jay would be a success. I have to work twice as hard to prove I’m not just a nepotism hire.