Romancing Miss Right (31 page)

She could do this. Just a little more. One
last moment. One last scene. And then it would be done. Over.

The relief of that thought almost drowned out
her fear that she might be about to become America’s most famous
dumped girl—until the next reality television cycle rolled
around.

Daniel was speaking, she realized distantly.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t as together as she’d hoped. The words seemed
to be passing through some sort of distortion tunnel before they
reached her ears and all she could make sense of was the occasional
snippet.

“…journey together…never imagined…feeling so
strongly…”

She couldn’t seem to focus on his face. It
seemed broken into disproportionate pieces like a Picasso. A nose.
A mouth. An eye. A cheekbone. An ear.

Caitlyn reminded herself not to frown as she
concentrated on figuring out whether this was the pre-proposal
speech or the pre-break-up speech. She’d seen enough of these shows
to know those speeches often sounded almost identical to one
another with the exception of one very crucial word.

But
.

As soon as the but came, she would know she
was getting ditched. She strained to catch the words swirling
around her head, wondering if Daniel had any idea the depth of her
panic at this moment. His hands were cool and smooth and strong.
Hers were a hot, sweaty clench gripping him.

She realized she was holding her breath and
forced herself to inhale.
Thou shalt not pass out on national
television
had become a favorite mantra and she repeated it to
herself now.

Christ on Crutches, how long could this last?
Wasn’t he done enumerating her many wonderful qualities yet? Didn’t
he know she couldn’t concentrate on a word of it until she knew
whether it was yes or no? Glory or heartbreak? Euphoria or national
laughingstock?

“…all this time my feelings for you have been
growing stronger, but—”

Caitlyn sucked in a breath so hard she nearly
choked herself. There it was. The infamous
but
. Suddenly the
words were crisp and clear and as loud as if they were coming
through a bullhorn.

“—I haven’t been able to tell you how I feel.
Thank God, I can finally shout it from the rooftops. I love you,
Caitlyn. It’s you. From the very first moment I saw you, it’s
always been you. You’re perfect.”

Daniel sank down to one knee and released one
of her hands to reach over and pluck the ring box off the pedestal.
She blinked at him, confused.

Wait. You just said ‘but,’
she wanted
to protest.
You’re supposed to be breaking up with me
.

But he popped the ring box open one-handed
and Caitlyn’s heart rate accelerated rapidly back toward critical
levels.

Beethoven’s Sainted Ass, that was some rock.
A massive emerald cut diamond caught the late afternoon sun, all
but blinding her with bling.

“Caitlyn Marie Gregg, will you marry me?”

Oh shit
.

She’d been so busy worrying about being
dumped, she hadn’t really thought about what she would say if he
actually proposed. She’d thought if that happened she would just
speak from the heart, but her heart was conspicuously silent—other
than racing faster than Hussein Bolt.

She needed to say something. Yes. She needed
to say yes. They’d talked about their future together. She’d hoped
he meant everything he said, hoped he would get down on one knee.
She had to say yes. Cinderella said yes to Prince Charming. That
was how it worked. But now the words caught in her throat.

“I…”

Daniel gazed up at her, earnest, adoring and
almost impossibly good-looking, his heart in his eyes and the
world’s biggest diamond in his hand. Tahitian water lapped against
the posts supporting the dock. Tropical flowers crowded into her
peripheral vision and filled the air with their intoxicating
scents. It was the perfect scene, carefully crafted to get a single
answer—but she couldn’t speak.

Did she love him? Was that what this feeling
was? It felt an awful lot like panic, but maybe the two weren’t so
far apart. If she might love him or even if she
could
love
him someday, didn’t she owe it to both of them to say yes? How
could she hurt him by saying no when he’d only ever been good to
her?

Caitlyn snuck a glance to her left out of the
corner of her eye—to the large reflective panels angled just so to
redirect the sunlight at the best possible angle. To the producers
and production assistants and interns and lighting guys and make-up
girls and stylists all lined up on the beach—most looking
businesslike though one or two leaned against one another,
sniffling and dripping sappy romanticism.

She felt the weight of America’s collective
desires pressing on her, urging her to say something. Anything.
This episode wouldn’t air for months, but she could feel them
already. All those million eyes hungry for the drama of her life.
Ravenous for it. They wouldn’t care whether it was happiness or
heartbreak, they just wanted the payoff.

But who would she be to them if she refused
him? The girl who thought she was too good for the perfect man? He
always said the right things. He was the man every woman in America
had fallen in love with last season.

She saw Miranda—ever-present tablet tucked
under one arm and headset mashed over her short, platinum bob. The
producer seemed to sense the direction of her gaze and gave a
slight, encouraging nod. An echo of a conversation they’d had a few
weeks ago fluttered through her thoughts.
Don’t be afraid to go
with it.

Was that what this was? Fear? Caitlyn had her
fair share of baggage. In one of her teary moments, she’d confessed
to Daniel—and the entire freaking home viewing audience—that she
was afraid of love, afraid of making herself vulnerable to that
kind of hurt, even as she longed for it desperately.

Was this her moment of truth? The moment when
she would either overcome her fear or doom herself to a life alone?
The perfect man was on one knee for her, all but
begging
her
to say yes. The life she had always wanted was being handed to her
on a silver platter. She would be a fool not to jump at it. A
spineless, pathetic, ungrateful fool.

This was her happily-ever-after. They didn’t
come along every day.

But what if it was just a carefully crafted
illusion?

“Caitlyn?”

She met bluer-than-blue eyes.
Don’t be
afraid to go with it.
“Yes, Daniel, of course I’ll marry
you.”

The collective sigh from the crew made it
seem like even the island released its held breath.

Daniel beamed and the world which had ground
to a halt kicked into warp speed again. The ring was on her finger,
he was leaping to his feet, sweeping her off hers, swirling her
around, kissing her, laughing, proclaiming his love—and then doing
it all again on cue when one of the sound guys announced one of the
mics was acting up and they weren’t sure they’d caught the first
take.

“We can get married on the reunion finale!”
Daniel exclaimed and she felt herself nodding. Smiling.

Caitlyn held on tight when he hugged her,
laughing, echoing the words of love, crying—with joy, she told
herself, not relief—admiring the flash of the rock on her finger,
and telling herself over and over again that this was it. Her
husband. Her future. Her happy ending. It was real.

If she said the words to herself enough, she
might even begin to believe them.

FALLING FOR MISTER WRONG - COMING APRIL 5, 2015