Chapter Eleven

I walk back to the group feeling weird. Like I'm caught between joy and despair. That's probably dramatic, but that's how I feel. I almost managed to forget there were cameras on me when Luca was talking about what it was like to grow up in Ralavia. Even though he's royal, he'd still been a grubby boy who liked to dig in the mud, and he knows a surprising amount about bugs. It's a reminder that he's human, that despite who he has to be in public, he's also the man I spent one of the best nights of my life with.

And then it's over and Ashley F takes my place while I head back to the group.

Shelby is standing there when I join the rest of them, who are checking their hair and makeup at a small stand placed there for exactly such a reason. I know it's hard to film in a park, but it feels like they could have done more than one small mirror and a bar-height table for five women to ensure they're TV ready. Well, four women and me, who is now thinking I could have put on some lip gloss.

The fact that Luca didn't mention my lack of makeup is a point in his favor, but I suspect he knows that. The man does seem to instinctively understand how to deal with me.

"I'm only saying you could hide the cellulite better if you wore long pants." Shelby sounds syrupy sweet as she gives Emily "advice." I haven't talked much to anyone since I joined the group. I'd spent time the night before with two of the Ashleys and Hannah, but I'd avoided the rest since I was supposed to be eliminated.

Emily looks to be around twenty nothing, with long, dark hair and wide eyes. Like she walked off an anime screen. She wouldn't be the badass. She would be the princess everyone fought over.

"I thought I looked good. These are my favorite shorts." Emily kind of stammers as she looks down at her legs, checking for cellulite that obviously doesn't exist.

She's on the midnight train to body dysmorphia.

"The shorts are fine." Shelby manages to smile in a way that a psychopath probably thinks is friendly. "But on a less…curvy girl."

Emily isn't curvy at all. She's a tiny stick, and that would be great if it's her natural state. There are women out there blessed with a magnificent metabolism that keeps them model thin, but most of us carry a little weight naturally.

And we shouldn't feel bad about that.

I would bet Shelby's never had a real problem with weight in her life, and empathy isn't her strength.

"You look fine," I tell Emily. "Better than fine. Shelby's a jealous hag, and she's doing what I like to call game playing. I know most of the women here are nice and you're going to make friends for life, but not with her. She's the one we'll still be rolling our eyes about when she's on her fourth divorce and the only show they'll cast her on is one about botched plastic surgeries. I'm not sure if it will be she went too hard at the lipo or the fillers. I'm thinking fillers."

Shelby's jaw drops, and I'm going to be honest, some subtle filler might help. Her lips are as thin as the rest of her. "How dare you."

Emily giggles behind her hands.

I've shocked her. I get it. I do not look like the kind of woman who can throw down verbally and doesn't mind getting in a word knife fight. It's the whole assistant thing, but I've learned how to defend myself and others. I learned it from Ivy, who is a badass, and Harper, who runs her own construction crew. When we were kids, they protected me, and taught me how to do the same for others.

It might be easier to stand back and hope that Shelby doesn't look my way.

But it's way less fun.

"I dare because I do not care what you think," I reply. "Now if you want to adjust your attitude, we can be friends. The cameras aren't on you right now. You don't have to be this person. I get that you want a lot of screen time, and being the bitch of the free world is a great way to do it, but you don't have to cut up everyone when the cameras are off."

"I didn't come here to make friends," she replies, her eyes narrow.

"You also didn't come here to get married," I shoot back.

"That's where you're wrong. I did come here for Reg," Shelby vows. "You might not know who that man is. You might be some nothing from off the streets who barely knows American history, much less what goes on in the rest of the world, but I do know a thing or two. I know Reginald Lucannon St. Marten's family. They're related to most of Europe's royalty. But you wouldn't know that because you're small, Anika."

"I'm small because I don't worship a monarchical system that went out of style a hundred years ago? Come on. You can do better than that," I shoot back.

Emily's head turns from me to Shelby like she's watching a tennis match.

"I don't have to. You see if you don't care what I think, I really don't care about you." Shelby's arms cross over her chest. "You can make friends all you like. They're only keeping you around because some people on the Internet are amused by you. You can't believe for a second that a man as powerful and wealthy as Reg is going to pick you for a bride."

Oh, crap. She doesn't know what she thinks she knows. I suppose that's part of Luca's plan. He can't exactly go around talking about how he put his own money into rebuilding his country. Not if he wants to keep up the mystique of royalty.

I wonder why he feels like he needs to. I like the idea of a king who puts his people before his own comfort, but it probably doesn't make for exciting television.

"You know I'm not here for that, but you also have to know that being a massive bitch won't play well when you get out of here. We're not back in the days when a queen could do whatever she wants. I might not know as much about the king's royal line as you do, but I do know that like every other modern monarchy in the Western world, his relies on the goodwill of his people. If they don't like you, he can't marry you. What you don't get is that if you take this seriously, you're not auditioning merely for him. He can't think about himself. He has to think about a whole country, and half of them will be women who won't want a nasty, jealous hag as their queen. Think about that the next time you open your mouth."

"Shelby, production would like a private moment with you," Christy says, as she frowns my way. "And don't listen to a word she says. She doesn't know what she's talking about. You're doing great. You are making some great television."

Shelby gives me a death stare as she walks away, Christy's hand on her arm.

"You're doing so well," Christy assures her.

I'm almost certain I hear her telling Shelby that I'm the jealous one. Which I am not. So not.

"Thanks," Emily says. "I'm starting to realize not everyone here is nice. Thank you for sticking up for me." She frowns suddenly. "And these shorts look good on me."

"They do. They make your legs look a mile long. Though we should talk about how to play football." I think girls should take sports seriously if we're going to play them. I personally was a beast on the volleyball team at my college, and it taught me a lot. It taught me I can get overly aggressive about a few things, hold a mean grudge, and how to gently turn down a chick who could potentially behead me with her biceps.

A low sigh comes from behind me. "That's going to have to wait, Anika. We need to talk."

I turn, and Joe is standing there.

"Emily, if I could have a moment with your friend," he says with what appears to be a weary smile.

"Of course." Emily gives me a wave and runs off.

"Anika, you can't talk to the other contestants that way." Joe looks all paternal as he stares down at me. "I understand that Shelby is a lot to handle, but you know why she's here."

"I thought I did. I thought she was probably here to get famous," I admit. "Turns out she's really here to transform her life from everyday American girl to world-famous rich queen. She's going to be surprised."

"You can't talk about that, either." His voice has gone low, and he looks around as though trying to make sure no one can overhear us. "We have to maintain the illusion of wealth and glamour, and honestly, it's not like the king is broke. I assure you he can still keep a wife in style. But we have to pretend like whoever wins his heart is going to be the next Princess Di."

"Well, we all know how that worked out for her." The world doesn't treat women who demand respect kindly. We're supposed to take the scraps they're willing to give us with a smile and never complain.

"Ani, come on. You know how this works. I'm not the bad guy here. The show needs a couple of Shelbys to move the drama along," Joe explains. "Don't make it harder. He can cut her at four, but we need her until then since he already got rid of Janice. I was against that, but he picked you instead."

"Because the producers forced him to." I know I'm ignoring the truth, but I don't want to admit it.

Joe snorts. "I assure you no one makes the king do anything he doesn't want to. Or doesn't feel is necessary. The producers gave him their opinion. Up until the moment he sent Janice home, I was under the impression he was going to do as I'd asked and eliminate you."

I can't help but think about the fact that Luca told me he'd known he would keep me from the minute I fell out of that carriage. "I told him I wanted to go."

"You always have the option of eliminating yourself. I think it would be a mistake, but I certainly can't keep you here."

I'm not sure why I didn't think of that myself. Probably because my dumb girl heart is already thinking about the fact that I'll have to stay away from him. I'll have to watch him go through all of this, and he won't sneak into my room at night. Which I totally do not want him to do. I'll have to watch him pick some other woman's heart to break. Which should sound like an excellent idea to me, but it doesn't.

"I'll think about it. Maybe I can make an announcement tonight or something. I can be back at work in the morning."

"No. I think it's better if you leave, that you don't come back. Patrick's already hired someone. I think you would be a distraction. I'll call some friends and see if I can get you on another set," he offers. "It shouldn't take me more than a day or two."

My gut clenches because I realize what an awful bind he's just put me in. "You told me I could move back to my job."

"Yes, and it would have worked if you had been eliminated and almost no one knew you. You've made an impression now, Anika, and I don't think you're going to be able to gently shift back into an assistant role," Joe tells me. "I also don't think it would be particularly good for your mental health to have to basically serve these women."

"I can handle that." What I can't do is leave this set until I have a report for Jessica.

What I don't want to admit is that the idea of never seeing Luca again disturbs me.

"I'm sorry, Anika. I like you. You seem like a great PA, but I'm not going to fire the one we had to hire in," he says. "So it's your decision. The producers will be thrilled if you stay. Your numbers are great. The audience we've tested the first night tapes with are most excited about seeing you with the king. The only person they're as invested in is…"

I know what he's going to say. "Shelby, because everyone loves a great villain."

I doubt that's how Shelby sees herself. I'm sure she thinks she's being forthright and assertive. Both great things—and things women aren't allowed to be. But there's a line between forthright and mean, and she's crossing it. Production will use it all to make her the one the audience loves to hate.

"Yes," he agrees. "She's giving us everything we need. You, on the other hand, are not. Anika, please understand that you are lovely no matter what you wear and the whole hair thing looks comfortable."

He seems to be tiptoeing around the point.

"I look like hell." I don't have to. I can be honest.

"I wouldn't say that. I would say you look like a woman who doesn't want to be here," he argues with a gentleness I wouldn't have expected from him. "That's not going to hurt you. It's going to end up hurting Luca. He has more at stake here than any of us."

So I should leave.

But I can't leave.

If I'm honest, I don't want to leave.

"I'll take more care with my appearance tomorrow," I promise. "I have nicer clothes."

"So you're going to stay?" He asks the question with a wary expectation.

"I'll stay until Luca lets me go." I'm not sure how I'm going to convince him to keep me until I figure out if his friend is a sexual predator, and when I'm sure then let me go immediately so I don't get my heart broken when he asks me to marry him on national television and I have to say no. But that is a problem for another day.

"Good." He puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad because you and Luca have real chemistry. If you two were actors, I would cast you as a couple."

"Sir, we're ready for you." Patrick is standing behind me. His perpetual glower is there, too.

"Excellent." Joe starts to walk toward our temporary set.

Patrick frowns my way. "You had a chance to leave. Staying is a mistake, but you clearly have issues with judgment."

He follows the director.

I sigh and look in the mirror. Yep. I could definitely use some gloss.

And those meatballs Tonya promised me. I glance over to the craft services table where my mom is setting out a big tray of sandwiches.

"Have you decided to join the rest of us in makeup land? Or are you planning on staying all-natural Barbie, complete with mom hair?" Ashley F asks.

I don't have mom hair. Except I realize my mom is literally wearing her hair exactly like mine. I pull the ponytail holder out. "I'd like to freshen up a little. Now that the game's done."

Ashley F opens her makeup bag. "Oh, honey, the game has barely begun, but I think it's going to be interesting to have you as a real player."

I sit in the makeup chair and let Ashley start to make me look like I care.