“Now, down to business,” Beck says. “Have you had any one-on-one time with Henry yet this evening?”

“No.” Even though she already knew the answer.

“Help me out here, Cin. Try elaborating.”

“Well, maybe you should ask better open-ended questions.”

She laughs. “Excuse you, Ms. Producer.”

That gets a real smile out of me, even though I’m still feeling a little irritable after last night and then not hearing from Henry today even though I snuck away with that stupid walkie-talkie every chance I got. It feels like I gave some guy my number and he hasn’t called.

Beck nods. “Okay, let’s try this again. How do you feel about your chances at the elimination ceremony tonight?”

I pout instinctively. “I haven’t really gotten to know Henry yet, and so I guess my chances aren’t great? But maybe a bad impression is worse than no impression. Or maybe it’s like a credit score. No credit is worse than bad credit. Is that how that works? Did I get that backward?”

“So you think other women have made a bad impression?” she asks, not taking my credit-score-nonsense bait.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I think Henry has a selection to work with.”

“And do you have any plans to score some alone time with him at the ball tonight?”

“Of course I hope I get to talk to him, but I’m not going to just barge in and interrupt a conversation.”

Beck crosses her legs, her ankle resting atop her knee, and I feel like I’m about to get a talking-to. “Why’s that? Don’t you think any other girl here would do the same to you? Don’t you want to fight for this?”

I can’t help but feel like Beck is trying to tell me something here, but I don’t like the idea of elbowing in on people and playing some kind of game. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? This is some kind of game. That’s the whole point. Do I want to be the girl who got kicked off on the second episode and is barely even memorable?

“Yes,” I finally say. “I do plan on fighting for this.” And then quickly, I add, “For Henry.”

I feel unsettled and queasy. This isn’t real. No one’s actually here for love, but the thought of using this opportunity with Henry to forward my own career feels different now. I can’t ignore the jealousy I felt last night when Sara Claire left for their date. I didn’t mind taking advantage of this situation when it was just some nameless guy who probably wouldn’t even take a second look at me. But it’s not just some guy. It’s Henry, and even though I don’t really know him, I know him well enough for him to be real and for this to be more than a silly game. Even if he is currently ghosting me via walkie-talkie.

“Am I done now?” I ask.

“I’m trying to make a TV show,” Beck reminds me. “But fine. Yes, you can go.”

I stand and give Sara Claire a high five, tagging her in as she goes to take my spot.

“Have I mentioned how hot you look tonight?” she asks.

“Thanks.” I smooth out the wrinkles in my dress. Tonight I went for a vintage black-and-white polka-dot shift dress with a high scarf neck that ties off to the side into a huge bow. It was originally long and shapeless, but I nipped it in a little around the chest and cut it into a mini, and now with my hair swept into a high bun, I’m a ’60s dream come true. Of course, my shoes are the real showstoppers. Authentic 1968 Montgomery Ward coral platform wedge T-strap Mary Janes, straight from eBay to my heart.

When Addison saw me, she actually laughed and said, “You’re just so quirky. Like a cute little librarian.”

She meant it as a diss, but news flash, Addison: Librarians are hot. Look at Stacy.

On the other side of the courtyard, I see Henry sitting next to Addison as he nods along and she laughs at her own jokes. I throw back a quick glass of chardonnay and march over there. If there’s any girl’s time I’m comfortable crashing, it’s hers, and if Beck is trying to make a TV show, I can at least give her something to work with.

“She’s on the move,” I hear someone call. “Camera on Cindy.”

I don’t even have to turn around to feel a whole crew at my back.

“Cindy,” Henry says as I approach the gazebo, where another camera and full lights are waiting.

Addison doesn’t even look up at me as she does her best to pretend that I don’t exist.

“Addison, sweetie, could I steal him for a moment?” I say in my sweetest voice.

“Oh!” She bounces to attention. “Sure…. Not for too long, though.” She stands, still holding Henry’s hand as she wiggles a finger at him with her other hand. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He gives her a smarmy grin. “I have no doubt.”

“No doubt,” I mimic under my breath as she walks off.

He clears his throat. “Excuse me?”

I choke on a laugh as I remember the cameras, the lights, and the fact that Henry and I aren’t even supposed to know each other that well and people who don’t know each other don’t usually tease each other like that.

“Nothing,” I say, knowing full well that every mic picked that up. And I’m pretty sure Henry did too.

I sit down beside him, and a junior producer hands me another drink, but I don’t think I need any more loosening right now.

Henry clinks his glass to mine. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

“So what made you leave your life behind to come on a show like this?”

I snort. “Starting out with the heavy hitters, huh?” I loop a loose strand of hair behind my ear, taking a moment to regain my composure. “I wouldn’t say I was leaving a whole life behind. I guess you could say I’m in between things. At a crossroads.”

“What kind of things? Boyfriend-shaped things?”

My cheeks immediately flush with heat as I shake my head. “Um…I’ve actually been single for quite a while.” I dated Jared, a poli-sci major from NYU, for half of freshman year and all of sophomore year. He was the kind of guy who always said he was fiscally conservative and was constantly exhausting people by playing devil’s advocate. Sierra threw me a party when I broke up with him. “What about you?”

“I’ve…dated. But nothing serious for a while. At least no one I’d bring home to Mom just yet.”