Page 68 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

“I know you don’t believe that I’m doing anything, but I got you this far, didn’t I?” He shoots me a sly smile that doesn’t sit well.

“What do you mean?”

“You think that a random photographer just happened to be on the beach in Malibu near the exact house you and Jenna were staying at?”

Pieces start to fit together. “You did this?”

“Of course I did. Tawny likes to take credit for everything, but this fake relationship was all me. I told you a decoy relationship with a good girl was the way to go.”

“Dallas.” My eyes narrow on him.

“What? You hired me to do a job, and I’m doing it.”

“Yeah, but Jenna thinks those pictures were taken at random. She’ll feel completely blindsided if she knows we were set up.”

“She’s not going to care when she sees all the ways this fake relationship benefits her career.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Oh, please. Just say thank you and be on your way.”

I guess, in a small way, I am thankful. Not for the boost in my likability, but for the extra time this whole ruse gets me with Jenna.

Dallas Mikesell might just be worth every single penny I pay him.

* * *

I stare at a blank Google screen on my laptop as I lie in bed that night. Do I really want to know all the men Jenna has dated in the past? It’s probably a long list of Nobel Prize winners or a relative of Mother Teresa—things I’m never going to be able to measure up to. But I type out the words anyway and hit return.

The page instantly fills with information, and against my better judgment, I click on the first link that says: Jenna Lewis Dating History.

I start at the beginning, when she was just nineteen years old and new to modeling. Rand Phillipe was a British photographer ten years older than Jenna. My jaw clenches with each picture of them together, not because she’s with another man but because, in every shot, he’s either walking one step ahead of her, has his back to her, or isn’t paying any attention to her. I’m surprised she lasted seven months with the jerk.

Next was a professional football player and teammate to her brother, Nixon Porter. They dated for three months when she was twenty-one, with few pictures or information about the relationship.

Then comes a long line of men over the last five years: musicians, actors, professional hockey players, businessmen. The tabloid gossip—if you can even believe any of it—has most of them cheating on or breaking up with her. There’s even a meme of the last guy she dated—some sports agent who was photographed looking jealous over another woman when he was supposed to be dating Jenna.

What a jerk.

That’s when it hits me.

I’m exactly like all of these men Jenna has dated, and it makes me sad because I want better than that for her, better than me. Not that I’ve ever been in the running for her heart or ever would be, but neither should these guys. She deserves so much more than what she’s settled for in the past, and I want to make sure she realizes that.

I’ll be the best fake boyfriend there ever was.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JENNA

“Scene 33D.” The camera assistant holds the sticks in front of the camera and claps the slate together as she yells, “Take five.”

Quinton shifts in his seat from the director’s chair. “Action!”

Cody descends the large staircase while I climb it, holding the railing for dear life. Each step is carefully placed since I tripped on my dress the first five takes. After the last time, wardrobe came and tucked and pinned what they could to shorten the length. Hopefully, I can walk without tripping now. It’s not my fault. The hem on my yellow dress was longer than Rihanna’s train at the Met Gala in 2015 and 2023—the woman loves trailing fabric. But even though we’ve been filming for months, I still feel like a beginner. Like everyone is judging me or critiquing me. Right now, there are probably a dozen crew members wondering how I ever made it down a runway when I can’t even make it up this giant staircase.

But then I look at Cody, and he’s all smiles and softness, and suddenly my insecurities vanish.

He stops mid-staircase and grins like Trev would at Renna in The Promised Prince. “You missed the fireworks last night.”

---