Page 14 of The True Love Experiment

Holy shit, this condescension. “Literally theonlything I care about is this audience.” The edge to my voice is so sharp it could draw blood. “I don’t think you have the same priority. Other than some ofthem being ‘female shaped’—whatever the fuck that means—I don’t think you even know who this audience is.”

“Felicity, what you heard—”

I hold up a hand. I don’t need to hear his excuse; I’m not doing this for him anyway. “It’s a yes or a no, Corey. Your call.”

He blinks away, giving me a view of the defined jawline, the long neck. Finally, he turns back to me. “Yes, then.”

I reach out for him to shake on it. “Good.” With understandable hesitation, he reaches out and wraps his hand around mine, giving me a very perfunctory British handshake.

Shifting my purse on my shoulder, I turn to leave, but he speaks again. “One more thing, if I might.”

I turn back around.

“My name is Connor.” He doesn’t smile this time when our eyes meet. “Not Ted, or Colin, or Corey. Connor.”

This jerk has just passed me the baton. He doesn’t have any fucking clue what he’s agreed to. I’ll call the poor guy anything he wants.

After all, his name is the least of my concerns. Because now I must figure out what my terms actually are, how I’m going to make time for this reality TV circus when I’m already three months late on my manuscript deadline, and how on earth I’ll reconcile the way his solid, warm grip and steady, attentive gaze didn’t feel at all like those of a villain.

sevenCONNOR

Any news on scheduling?” Natalia asks from the kitchen. “We’ve put a deposit down on that cabin in Yellowstone, but I don’t want to take Stevie if you’re going to have a window of free time then.”

Next to me, dressed in her new Wonderland tee and crowned with a pink tiara, the child in question searches through dozens of tiny grayish-taupe puzzle pieces, intent on finding the corners of an elephant’s ear and the tip of a lion’s tail in our African Wild After the Rains jigsaw puzzle. I wonder about the chances that an elephant and a grown lion would stand this close to each other, but it seems a minor quibble.

“Unfortunately, no,” I say. It’s already June; our holidays would normally be parsed out and set in stone by now, but with my filming schedule still up in the air, summer plans are as well. “And I’m sorry, Nat, I know it’s a pain. I’ve been going back and forth with Felicity’s agents for weeks. Just make your plans and I’ll work around them.”

Nat crosses the room and sets down lunch for each of us before taking a seat on the floor across from me. Normally my daughter and I would be at my place for the weekend, but Stevie’s socialcircle seems to be ever expanding, with a birthday party tonight and another in the morning. Co-parenting means compromise, and I’m happy to hang out here if it means time together.

The food doesn’t hurt, either. It smells amazing; for the two years Nat and I were married I was deeply spoiled by her cooking. When we split, I had to get my shit together—I couldn’t feed my toddler ramen and Happy Meals every weekend. Now I appreciate nothing more than food I don’t have to prepare myself.

“How’s everything going with her?” she asks, pulling my attention up from the steaming bowl of pozole.

I haven’t shared much with Nat because there isn’t much to tell. Felicity has been communicating with me through her intermediaries—attorney and agents. She has me by the balls and knows it.

I swallow a too-hot bite, wincing. “She’s tentatively accepted.”

“What are the conditions?”

“Her agent is supposed to be sending them over.”

“You sound thrilled.”

I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Let me ask you something. Weeks ago, I asked her to do this thing. I offered—she could have turned it down but didn’t. Isn’t it weird that she still seems to be… sort of… questioning my commitment a bit?”

With a little laugh, Nat takes a bite and pokes at her bowl with a spoon. “I don’t know that much about her in real life—I mean, she shows us what she wants us to see. She seems playful and funny and adventurous, but a reality show doesn’t seem like something she’d do. There must be a reason she’s considering it, and if she called you out for seeming less than enthusiastic, you’d better getyour attitude squared away.” Natalia looks at me straight on. “You’re a wonderful guy, Conn, but you’ve been acting a little snobby, like this is beneath you.”

I turn back to the puzzle. “How is it snobby if it’s accurate? I would never do this if Blaine wasn’t forcing me to.”

I know it’s a mistake as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. Even Stevie pushes a somber whistle through her teeth.

Natalia stares at me. “Connor, do you think I’m dumb?”

“What?” I say, horrified. “Of course not. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Well,Iwatch reality TV. I read romance. And when you say stuff like that, it’s belittling.” She tilts her head toward Stevie, and the unspokenEspecially when you do it in front of our daughterlands like a mallet.

“I just meant that it’s notmybag. Of course it’s cool if it’s yours.”

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