Page 14 of The Love Rematch
Understanding dawns in Nina’s dark brown eyes. It’s obviously not the first panic attack she’s seen on this set. “We’re too close to filming,” she says gently. “It’s okay to be nervous. I get it. But I promise, nothing is—”
Emily grabs her by the shirt and tugs, a woman possessed. Nina almost looks impressed. “I need to talk to Sam. Now.”
“Your phone is already in the vault.”
“Then give me yours. I have her number memorized.”
“It’s not—”
“Please.” Emily’s voice cracks. They both hear it. Nina’s face softens, while Emily hardens her expression in a pathetic attempt to maintain her composure. “Please. I won’t ask again, I promise. I just need to talk to my sister alone for five minutes before this whole thing begins. I just need to hear her voice.”
Calculations spin in Nina’s gaze. Emotional pleas clearly won’t be the way to win her over in the future, but right now it works. Probably because the show hasn’t even started and the last thing Nina needs is a loose cannon for a lead, but Emily will take it. As soon as Nina slips the phone from her pocket, Emily grabs it and starts dialing. The producer leaves the room. And while Emily is smart enough to know Nina’s probably eavesdropping outside with one ear against the door, she’s not smart enough to care.
The call rings.
Pick up. Pick up. Pick—
“Hello?”
“Sam, it’s me,” Emily whispers and collapses against the wall. Hairpins dig painfully into her scalp, but she’s too strung out to notice. She pulls her knees to her chest, clutching the phone for dear life with one hand and cupping the other around her lips as if somehow that will magically make her impossible to overhear. “He’s here.”
There’s a pause. “Who?”
For the love of god!“Who do you think?”
“Santa?”
“Sam!”
“You’re the one who made me guess.”
“Jake,” she whisper-screams into the receiver. “Jake is here.”
“WHAT?”
“I know!”
“HE’S THERE?”
“I know!”
“What a little weasel! He must’ve seen you were going to be on the show. Did the producers bring him on? Is he one of the suitors? Is he trying to win you back? Is he—”
“No, Sam, he—”
“Oh my god. I’m booking a flight to California right now. They want a show? I’ll give them a show! I’ll rip his fucking balls off for pulling a stunt like this. I’ll feed them to my neighbor’s Yorkie—that little mongrel is absolutely vicious when she wants to be. I’ll—”
“Sam.”
“God, I can’t believe him!”
“Sam!”
“What?”
“He’s notonthe show.”
“He’s not? Then what—”
