Falling for Mister Wrong Read Free Page B

door,
fidgeting with her tablet—which only reinforced Caitlyn’s
impression that Miranda was avoiding whatever she’d really wanted
to talk to her about.
    “It’s gonna be fine,” Caitlyn said. “The hard
part is over.”
    The executive producer grimaced and glanced
back toward the hotel, not meeting Caitlyn’s eyes. “When you watch
the show,” she said haltingly, “try to remember that everything is
exaggerated for dramatic effect. There may be times when things
seem worse than they are. Try to focus on your experiences and
trust your own memories.”
    Caitlyn frowned. Miranda had seen all the
footage. She knew what kind of show it was going to be. Caitlyn
only had her own little piece to go on. Love in a vacuum. “Is there
something specific I should know? About Daniel?”
    “No. Nothing like that. Just…” Miranda
hesitated, flipping the tablet between her hands. “Well. You have
my number. You can call me if you need anything. Travel safe,
Caitlyn.”
    #
    Miranda watched Caitlyn’s car pull away,
smashing down the flare of guilt that tried to rise. The girl was
too delicate for this business by half. Too hopeful. Too trusting.
And too damn sweetly optimistic. She actually thought the worst was
over. Miranda cringed in spite of herself. Too naïve by half.
    The filming was rigorous, but it was the
airing of the show that really changed people. For the last several
weeks, Caitlyn hadn’t been able to walk down the street without a
camera crew tracking her every move, and perhaps a few curious
glances wondering why she was being filmed. In the next two months,
as she became more and more of a featured player in the reality
drama that was about to play out on national television, she
wouldn’t be able to walk down the street without being watched by
every eye, pointed at, and stopped for her autograph or a photo.
Camera phones would be sneaking pictures of her in the produce
section at her grocery. Bloggers would discuss every minute detail
of her life—on screen and off. Privacy was a thing of the past.
    Not to mention the experience of everyone in
America watching her fiancé make out with half a dozen other
girls.
    And she thought the worst was over.
    Miranda winced. She felt sorry for Caitlyn.
For what she was about to go through. And she didn’t like feeling
sorry. She liked her job. She was damn good at her job. And she
hated the stupid rumblings of her stupid conscience.
    Damn Bennett anyway. It was his deep voice
she heard grumbling in her head about the morality of using people
like Caitlyn for America’s entertainment.
    Of course the griping was only in her head
because he’d stopped speaking to her weeks ago. He’d been her
mentor, then her lover—which had, in retrospect, probably been a
colossal mistake, no matter how huge a crush she’d always had on
him—but he’d been the one constant in her life and now he was…
what? Her ex? It felt wrong to think of him that way.
    Things had been so good at the beginning of
the season. She’d thought they were over the disagreements about
her work on Marrying Mister Perfect and his need to tell her
what she should be doing with her life. She’d said the L word, for
crying out loud, and he hadn’t exactly said it back, but it had
been implied.
    But it hadn’t been a cure all pill. Two weeks
into the new season of Marrying Mister Perfect , he’d begun
bugging her to quit and go back to work for him at American
Dance Star . The fights had only gotten worse and when she’d
decided to travel with the show again, rather than stay in Los
Angeles with him… well, the result was predictable. Angry
silence.
    She swallowed back her anger at his
abandonment. She’d told him she loved him, damn it. Not
something she confessed lightly. And he’d just kept trying to turn
her into who he wanted her to be.
    And the worst part was, she still missed the
bastard.
    She hadn’t been able to talk to him about her
concerns for Caitlyn as the show progressed.