Read an Excerpt from Tying the Knot

To Janet Costanzo Robel
I love your zest for life!
Thanks for infusing my online book group on Facebook with your positive energy and for all you do to support me as a friend and a reader. The bookish community I look forward to interacting with every day wouldn’t be the same without you.

Chapter One

“You want me to do what?” Grady Amos had been leaning toward the woman he’d just met—Winnie…something. He couldn’t remember her last name. But he liked her. She was attractive in a polished, fashionable way, wearing a long straight skirt and a sleeveless blouse—obviously designer clothes that fit her trim figure to perfection—with her blond hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail at her nape. A woman in high heels who smelled like the perfume counter at Macy’s wasn’t something he ran into very often in the small Gold Country town in Northern California where he’d been raised. Folks were pretty casual in Whiskey Creek. So when he’d walked into Sexy Sadie’s to relax after a long day at work, she’d stood out—enough that he’d veered over to the bar to claim the empty seat next to her.

But what she’d just said had him scooting back by a foot at least.

“You’d make a great contestant on the dating show I’m producing,” she repeated.

He made a face to show he wasn’t excited by that idea. She’d said she was in town for two days visiting a friend on her way to Los Angeles. She was coming through after spending the weekend in Lake Tahoe at her parents’ cabin. But she was obviously recruiting along the way. She was probably always recruiting. She seemed ambitious, the type to take her work very seriously.

“You’re making a reality TV show?” he said. She’d told him she was a producer, but she hadn’t gotten specific until she’d learned that he was unattached. When she’d started to probe to find out his status, he’d assumed she was asking because she was interested in him the same way he was interested in her, so that was part of his disappointment.

She looked a bit crestfallen herself. Most people probably showed a great deal more interest when she mentioned what she did for a living. “We’re in our third season. You’ve never seen Tying the Knot?”

“I’m afraid not.” He’d never been interested in reality TV…other than Survivor. He made an exception for that show because it was freaking amazing. And maybe Naked and Afraid. He considered the dating ones—The Bachelor, The Bachelorette and all the others—to be for women.

She adjusted the straw on the Moscow mule he’d bought her. “You should give it a try, see what you think.”

He doubted it would be anything he’d enjoy, but he liked talking to her and was hoping to get her to go out with him even if it meant he had to drive six or seven hours to LA. “What’s the show about, exactly?”

“It’s a study of first impressions—whether human beings can choose a mate based on looks and instant chemistry, or if they need time to get to know each other in order to have a successful relationship.”

“Oh, it’s like that show my sister-in-law was talking about the other night.” He cast about in his mind for the name. “What’s it called? The one where they meet at their own wedding?”

“Married at First Sight? Not really,” she said with a shake of her head. “On my show, you’d get to choose your bride.”

He finished his beer and signaled for the bartender to bring him another. “How does it work?”

“Our contestants take a battery of personality tests. Then they’re sent on three dates, each with a different woman—” she selected a peanut out of the bowl in front of them “—all of whom have been vetted and handpicked by psychologists as being compatible. And then they get to choose one of the three.”

“To continue dating?”

“To marry.”

Of course. He knew there’d be a catch. The show had to have a shocking premise. That was what gave it word of mouth, made it worth tuning in. “Sounds like whoever does this is asking for trouble.”

Her eyes widened at his response. “Not really. If the marriage doesn’t work out, they can always have it annulled,” she said as if it was no big deal. “It’s not that different from dating in the real world. There are connections and breakups. Some relationships work and others don’t.”

If it was that similar to real life, they wouldn’t be making a show out of it. But he didn’t say so. “The women don’t get to choose?” He grinned. “Isn’t that a little misogynistic?”

She arched her eyebrows. “The men chose in season one, the women chose in season two.”

So it was the men’s turn…

He rubbed the beard growth on his chin. He wanted to find a good woman with whom he could start a family. He’d wanted that for a long time. And yet, here he was staring down his fortieth birthday and he hadn’t yet found love.

He was beginning to worry he’d be single for the rest of his life, which was why, for a brief moment, a small part of him was tempted to try something this unconventional. At least it would put him in close proximity to Winnie, whom he considered the real prize. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone. But with all the posturing and deceit on those matchmaking sites, online dating was already out of his comfort zone. Why would he take an even bigger risk? “Meeting someone on the internet is about as wild as I get.”

“You’ve tried that, then?”

“I have, here and there.” He’d pulled down his profile probably four years ago, after one of the women he’d met began to stalk him, so it’d been some time.

She popped another peanut into her mouth. “And how has that worked out for you?”

He gave her a dirty look. “It hasn’t, but there’s no guarantee this would, either.” There had to be a lot of heartache involved in something like this. Embarrassment, too, since so much of what happened would be made public. He wasn’t one to seek the limelight, even if he could leave Whiskey Creek for as long as it would take to shoot the various episodes…which he couldn’t. “Would my odds be any better going onto a reality TV show?” he challenged.

“Maybe. We have three couples from seasons one and two who are still married,” she said proudly. “I plan to incorporate them—in a small way—in this year’s show.”

He straightened. “Three out of how many?”

“Eight.”

Nearly 50 percent wasn’t bad. “I’m shocked to hear the success ratio is that high.”

“We do a lot of testing before we even get started,” she said with a measure of satisfaction. “We want people to be happy.”

He began to peel the label on his locally brewed IPA. “How do you find your contestants?”

“People apply online. We’ve nearly finished casting this season. I just need one more guy. Actually, I need two guys. There’s one person I’d like to replace.” She grimaced. “I’m not totally sure about him.”

“What do I have that he doesn’t?” Grady asked.

“You’re not vying for attention, not already applying for every other show on TV or looking for a way to break into showbiz. That alone will give you more sincerity, make you more convincing and appealing in general.”

He’d suspected reality shows weren’t actually “real.” They were well-choreographed, and this proved it. But he supposed that was the only way they’d ever work, so he couldn’t get too upset about it. Most people understood they weren’t completely unscripted. “I doubt I’ll be any good on TV. I’ve never been on before. And there has to be drama, or it’ll be boring. You won’t get much drama out of me.”

“Trust me, the situation brings its own drama,” she said with an appealing laugh. “I don’t need you or any other contestant to be difficult. The odds are already stacked against us—against the survival of long-term relationships in general—and yet that’s exactly what we’re striving for. Our viewers are rooting for our contestants to fall in love.”

“I think I’m too private of a person.”

“You’d be well compensated.”

“I have a job,” he pointed out. She’d asked him what he did when he sat down, so she already knew that.

She took another sip of her drink. “You said you work at an auto body shop?”

Clearly, she wasn’t dazzled by his vocation, but he made a good living. Money wasn’t one of his problems. “I don’t just work there, I own it,” he clarified. He wanted to impress her, or he would’ve added that he didn’t own Amos Auto Body entirely on his own. He and his four brothers were partners, but they’d grown the business a great deal since they’d taken over from their father. They had three locations now—the original shop here in Whiskey Creek and two others, one run by his second oldest brother in Reno, Nevada, and the other by his younger brother, the baby of the family, in Silver Springs, California, which wasn’t too far from Los Angeles.

“But this could make you a star,” she said as if it was the ultimate enticement.

He didn’t want to be a star. He just wanted to find a good woman. “There’s no way I could take that much time away from my business even if I wanted to.”

He assumed she’d let it go at that, but she didn’t. “If you’re the boss, don’t you have employees who can take care of things while you’re gone?”

Since Aaron and Mack had moved away, he, Dylan and Rod had taken on a couple of guys to fill their slots, plus one more to give them some breathing room. Dylan and Rod had families and couldn’t work the kind of hours they’d put in before. But he was still there all day, every day. Although they split the money evenly, it made sense that he should carry more of the load since he didn’t have quite so many demands on his time. “I have a few.”

“Then do something unexpected, something wild.” She lowered her voice. “It could change your life.”

“We’ll see.” It was hard to turn down such a beautiful, earnest face. But he simply wasn’t the type to go after something like this. She’d said that three of the couples who’d been on the show were still together, but that didn’t mean they’d withstand the test of time. This was only the third season!

Maybe once they’d passed their tenth anniversary, he’d believe they had a fighting chance.

“Don’t you want to get married?” she pressed.

He craved the committed and hectic but happy lives his brothers were living. But he doubted this was the way to get it. “I’d like to find someone,” he admitted. “But it would need to be the right woman, and I can’t imagine meeting my wife in such a way.”

“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it,” she said. “Best-case scenario, you find the woman of your dreams. Worst case, you come back here and do what you’ve always done.”

When she put it that way, staying in Whiskey Creek didn’t sound all that appealing. Just lonely.

But a reality TV show? No way. “I’ll think about it.”

She checked her phone, seemed startled by the time and slid off her stool. “I’ve got a conference call. But here’s my card.” She winked as he accepted it, and her smile hit him right in the gut. “Give me a call if you change your mind.”

He slid the card in his pocket as she walked out. He wanted to give her a call, but it wasn’t because he wished to be on her TV show.

 

Chapter Two

She was going to disappoint her mother. There was no way around that now.

Aja Kermani frowned at the latest text she’d received from Esther. A picture of another wedding dress. Last night, her mother had sent color schemes, suggesting black and ivory would be “lovely.” And yesterday morning? Ideas for the cake. Esther didn’t know that there would be no wedding. Aja had broken up with Arman four days ago, the night he proposed. She couldn’t continue the relationship; it gave him false hope, led him to believe she felt something she didn’t.

Bottom line, she wasn’t interested in living the life her parents had carefully choreographed for her, didn’t want to become an exact replica of them.

There was nothing wrong with them, of course. She loved them dearly, had tried to please them as far back as she could remember. She understood the sacrifices they’d made to immigrate to the United States, hoping to build a better life, and the opportunities that provided for her and her brother, and she was grateful.

But Aja wanted something more. Or something else, she thought, quickly correcting herself. As much as she kept trying to follow what her parents insisted would be the best course for her, she was no longer interested in forcing herself into a mold she clearly didn’t fit. As time went by, the vague lack of fulfillment she’d battled through the years was turning into a deep dissatisfaction. She wanted to be free to dream her own dreams and then try to accomplish them, and the hunger to do so had been growing for years…since all the way back in middle school.

Do you like this? It’s nearly $7,000, but I think you’d look stunning in it.

Aja read her mother’s follow-up message twice. Her parents would be willing to spend seven thousand dollars on a dress?

That was a lot of money. But they had it. Her father was an ophthalmologist, and her mother an orthodontist—both professionals. They lived in a beautiful home in Newport Beach, an expensive part of Orange County, and spent a lot on vacations, cars and other things. It didn’t surprise her too much that they’d go all out for her wedding.

So…what were they going to say when she told them that she couldn’t bring herself to marry their best friends’ son?

She sank into the soft leather chair behind her desk in the small office of her dental practice and sighed as she gazed at her diplomas, pictures of her family and various friends hanging on the walls. She’d been a dentist for eight years, had built a solid practice in a relatively short amount of time.

But it was getting more and more difficult to make herself come to work each day. It was her parents who’d really wanted her to become a dentist. She’d done it to please them, and because she didn’t have a clear alternative—knew they’d be mortified if she told them what she really wanted to do—she’d fallen in line.

But how much longer could she continue slogging through each day? She was feeling cornered and claustrophobic, needed to break out of the same old routine.

She just didn’t know how, or if she’d regret it later.

It was the fear of regret—and dashing her parents’ hopes for something that wouldn’t turn out to be successful—that had held her firmly in place. But then Arman had proposed, and she’d realized that marrying him would set the rest of her life in cement. The fear that’d swamped her in that moment had chilled her to the bone.

Knowing she couldn’t continue to ignore her mother’s texts, she gathered her resolve and called Esther.

“There you are!” her mother chirped. “Are you still at the office?”

Aja worked long hours. Too long. That was part of the problem. She didn’t have much of a life outside of her practice. She’d had very little time to work on her pottery, hadn’t been in the studio for months. And before she got her degree, it’d taken everything she had just to make it through dental school. Biology, anatomy and physiology had been such difficult subjects for her, especially because all she’d wanted to do was create. “I am.”

“What do you think of that wedding dress I sent you? Isn’t it absolutely stunning?”

Her mother had good taste; Aja had to give her that. “It is.”

“So? Do you want to try it on? Tomorrow’s Saturday. We could have lunch and spend the afternoon shopping.”

Aja squeezed her eyes closed. Here goes… “I’m afraid not.” She opened her mouth to continue, but Esther filled every break in any conversation and spoke before she could.

“If tomorrow won’t work, we could go Sunday before dinner. Your father could grill, and I could arrange the sides in advance.”

They had family dinner every Sunday. It was a tradition, and a weekly opportunity for her parents to make sure their children were still on track. “No, Mom. It—it’s not the day that’s the problem. I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” she asked, obviously surprised by the serious tone of Aja’s voice.

“There isn’t going to be a wedding.”

Silence. Then her mother said, in a panic, “Arman told his parents that he was going to propose on Monday. Did I blow it? Jump the gun? Oh, my God! Has he not asked you yet? I’m so sorry! Now I know why you didn’t call to tell us. He hasn’t followed through quite yet.”

Wincing, she cleared her throat. “Actually, he did ask, but I said no.”

“Why would you do that?” her mother snapped.

Aja squeezed her forehead with one hand. “Because I’m not in love with him.”

“Arman’s a good boy. He’ll make a wonderful husband and father.”

“I’m sure that’s true. He’s a nice person. The problem is…I don’t love him,” she explained.

There was another long stretch of silence. Her mother had to be stunned. Her parents and Arman’s parents had believed for years that they’d one day be celebrating the union of their children, thereby bringing the two families even closer. “So…that’s why we haven’t heard from the Kahns,” she said as she processed what Aja had just told her. “They must be heartbroken for their son and—and angry with us.”

“I hope not,” Aja said. “It wasn’t my intent to…hurt anyone or cause problems in your relationship with them.”

“Your father and I believed… Well, we obviously thought marriage and a family was what you wanted.”

“It is what I want, Mom. Just not with Arman.”

“With who, then?” she asked, as if he was the only logical choice.

“I don’t know! I haven’t been free to find someone who excites me, who makes me feel…how I should feel before committing myself for the rest of my life.”

“You’re not interested in Ali, are you?” she asked suspiciously. “I know he’s shown a great deal of interest in you. But Arman is a heart surgeon, Aja! Ali is…well, he’s nice, but…”

But Ali was a dance instructor. His earning potential couldn’t match Arman’s. It wouldn’t be nearly as advantageous of a match.

“I wouldn’t recommend a man like him,” her mother said.

Aja had circulated within the Persian community in Los Angeles her whole life. She wanted to expand beyond the people she already knew, but saying so would only upset her mother. Her father, too, when he heard. They’d wanted to come to America for safety and upward mobility but didn’t really want their children to be American. They clung to the old world, the one they’d left.

But she’d been born here. To her, living in the United States meant embracing change—looking forward, not back. Almost everyone in America had originally come from somewhere else. It was the world’s great melting pot, and yet her parents didn’t want her to conform. “I don’t plan on dating Ali, Mom. We’re just friends.” That was true and yet she admired him. He’d stood up to his own parents, was being who and what he most wanted to be.

“Who then?” her mother asked.

She remembered some of the young men she’d met at UCLA. There’d been several she’d found attractive, and yet she’d turned down those who’d asked her out. Some had even been in dental school with her, meaning they’d also be professionals, but they weren’t Persian, which meant she’d have to cope with upset and disappointment—and possibly downright antagonism—at home. Since she’d already been struggling just to get through school, she hadn’t dared take on that fight at the same time.

But now… She was thirty-four. She’d lived her parents’ way long enough to know, deep in her soul, that it wasn’t her way. As well-intentioned as they were, as much as they loved her and thought they were doing what was best for her, she had to insist on more freedom and autonomy—had to be able to, like Ali, forge her own path.

Better late than never, she thought. But… She frowned as her eyes once again circled her tiny cubicle of an office. Did that mean selling her practice? Or bringing in another dentist so she could have time to focus on her pottery?

Either was a risk. She didn’t have the financial security of her parents, couldn’t withstand a serious mistake…

Could she dare take action?

This was the question that always drove her back into the same old corral.

“I don’t have anyone in mind,” she told her mother. “I just…know it wouldn’t be right to marry Arman.”

Aja could feel her mother’s disapproval coming through the phone; it washed over her like a tidal wave. “I think you might live to regret that,” her mother said.

“I know.”

“Arman is handsome and smart—”

“But I’m not in love with him,” she said adamantly, breaking in. “I’ve now said that two other times.”

“Love grows from respect, Aja. And that head-over-heels feeling isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Arman adores you. He treats you like a queen.”

“I’d be doing him a disservice,” she insisted. “I like him too well to saddle him with an unhappy wife.”

“Unhappy…” her mother echoed.

“Yes—unhappy. I’d be unhappy if I married him,” she said, and that was probably what finally convinced Esther to back off.

“Okay,” she said. “Only you know what’s best for you.”

Exactly. Those words felt like a soothing balm, and yet Aja knew her mother didn’t truly believe them, or she’d be in an entirely different situation.

“I’d better call Behar and try to explain.”

Aja liked Behar and Behram, Arman’s parents. She liked his brother, too. They’d been part of almost every holiday, several vacations and lots of Sunday dinners. It was going to be difficult to face them, given they probably no longer liked her. “I’m sorry for disappointing them,” she said. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, too.”

“It’s fine,” her mother said stiffly. “I just… I hope you’re not making a terrible mistake.”

So did Aja. Life was fluid. There were no guarantees.

She said goodbye and disconnected, then looked at her watch. It was six thirty on a Friday night. Her receptionist and hygienist had left at three thirty. They had families to go home to and enjoy the weekend with. She had no plans. Except on Sunday, of course. But showing up at her parents’ house for dinner this week would not be easy.

She was just finishing annotating various patient charts and calling to check on a couple of people she’d given root canals earlier in the week when she received a text from her brother.

Oh, no, you didn’t.

She frowned. Her mother must’ve called him about Arman. She’d essentially kicked the beehive that was their world, their status quo, and sent her parents and all their friends buzzing.

Oh, yes, I did.

Are you going to stick by it?

She knew he’d want her to. Any barriers she busted through left a hole for him.

I have no choice. I simply can’t marry Arman.

How’d he take the news?

Not well. I’m guessing he thinks I might change my mind because he hasn’t told his parents. Otherwise, they would’ve contacted Mom and Dad.

Or he *did* tell them, and they’re mad.

That’s what Mom thinks.

Damn. I didn’t know you were such a troublemaker.

I wish I had an older sibling to knock down barriers for me. 😉

News flash. You’ve conformed for thirty-four years. That’s not knocking down barriers. But now you’re giving me a little hope.

Very funny. Have you told Mom and Dad that you don’t want to be a lawyer? That you’d rather be an actor?

Not yet. I haven’t received any great opportunities that would force my hand. But I have another audition coming up.

What is it for this time?

A reality TV show called Tying the Knot.

Aja googled the show and read the premise. Are you kidding me? You could wind up married!

I could also be discovered, Darius replied.

You don’t care about the risks?

Not really. It’s something for my résumé, a potential start. And it pays a decent amount.

But what about Mom and Dad?

They don’t watch reality TV. They’ll never know.

You’d just bring your wife home to meet them when it’s all over? What are the chances she’ll be Persian?

Admittedly, not great. But if I love her, it’d be worth fighting that fight. And if I don’t? I’ll get an annulment, and they’ll never be the wiser.

You’re so reckless. [rolling eyes emoji]

We have only one life. I plan to live mine.

Aja wanted to live hers, too, but it wasn’t that simple. If you make them too mad, they could cut you off, quit paying for school.

Then I’ll drop out. Unlike you, I can’t be bought. 😉

Tough talk for someone who only does what he wants in secret. 😉

That’s called being smart. Why make waves if I don’t have to?

Aja chuckled. When’s the audition?

Tomorrow. Want to go with me? We could grab lunch after.

That would certainly be more fun than laundry and housecleaning. Why not go and offer him some moral support? Seeing how auditions like that worked could be interesting…

Sure. What time?

Ten. But I’ll pick you up at nine. You know what traffic can be like in this city.

I’ll be ready.

Setting down her phone, Aja took a deep breath. She’d refused the marriage proposal of her parents’ best friends’ son and longed to quit dentistry so she could have her own pottery studio. Darius had no interest in becoming a lawyer, even though he was in law school. He hoped to become an actor, which was even riskier than being an artist. Almost everyone in LA wanted to be an actor…

She bit her lip as she considered the dark clouds gathering on the horizon. Her parents were soon going to realize that they didn’t have either one of their children under control.

 

Chapter Three

They arrived twenty minutes early—traffic had been light—and waited in the lobby of an office on the fifteenth floor of a high-rise in Burbank. The office didn’t seem to be fully staffed, and the receptionist was dressed casually, giving Aja the impression Saturdays weren’t normal workdays. She assumed they were putting in extra hours to finish casting the show. From what Darius had said in the car, they were supposed to start shooting soon.

The receptionist looked up when they checked in, then motioned them to the leather couch and chairs surrounding a very modern-looking coffee table. They were reading the magazines they’d found on that table when the producer walked out ten minutes later.

She shook Darius’s hand before turning to Aja. “And who is this?”

Darius explained that she was his sister and had just come along for the ride, but the producer, who’d told them to call her Winnie—invited them both back to her office.

Aja tried to beg off. She didn’t want to intrude. But Winnie insisted it wouldn’t be a problem, so she sent her brother an apologetic glance, in case her presence was hurting his chances of getting on the show, and he gave her a little shrug as if to say there was nothing they could do about it now.

One whole wall of the producer’s office overlooked the busy street below. Aja wanted to walk over to it and sip the coffee she’d purchased on the ground floor while letting the two of them talk, but Winnie pulled an extra chair up to her desk and motioned for them both to sit down.

Wishing she’d waited in the car, Aja clung to her coffee as she complied.

“So… I’ve had a look at the application you filled out online,” Winnie said to Darius, lifting a piece of paper that was probably a printout of that application. “You definitely look interesting to me. You’re attractive, well-educated with great earning potential. And you scored well on the personality test. The only problem is…you’re a little young.”

“I’m almost twenty-six,” he said.

She made a face that suggested his age might be a sticking point. “Most of our contestants are over thirty. The psychologists who help us with the show feel we’ll have a better chance of success with those who are slightly older. They have more experience with relationships, tend to know more about what they want and are more likely to be content when they settle down.” She dropped his application back on her desk. “What makes you want to be on a show like Tying the Knot?”

“I’m an adventurous person and think this might be an interesting way to meet someone. I also enjoy psychology, so the experiment aspect appeals to me.”

Aja silently applauded the fact that he said nothing about becoming a star. But she could tell the beautiful, poised woman dressed in cream slacks and a matching blouse was no one’s fool. Aja was willing to bet she saw right through him…

“You aren’t currently in a relationship…” she said.

“No.”

Her gaze shifted to Aja. “How old are you?”

Aja had just lifted her coffee to her mouth, so Darius answered for her. “Thirty-four.”

“And…are you attached?” the producer asked.

Swallowing, Aja lowered her cup. “No, um, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“What do you do for a living?”

Uncomfortable with the attention, she shifted in her seat. Wasn’t this supposed to be Darius’s interview? “I’m a dentist.”

“Here in LA?”

She nodded. “I’ve been in practice for the past eight years.”

“And you’re not dating anyone?” she asked again, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

“I just broke up with my boyfriend. But… I’m not applying to be on the show.” She gestured at her brother. “We’re getting lunch afterward. I didn’t mean to intrude on his audition…or interview,” she corrected, since he wasn’t actually running lines.

“You’re not intruding,” Winnie insisted. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s been some last-minute jockeying with the cast. Now, I need another female contestant, and I’m out of time to advertise. But you seem ideal. You’re very attractive.”

Aja was glad Winnie didn’t mention the Disney princess Jasmine. So many of her patients asked if she worked for the park in her off hours. But then, Winnie probably knew better than to perpetuate racial stereotypes. “I appreciate the compliment. But—”

“If you’ll come on the show, I’ll take your brother, too,” she said matter-of-factly, cutting off Aja.

Aja blinked. She could feel the heat of Darius’s gaze—it seemed to be boring holes into her—as he willed her to accept. He believed this could be his big break. But she couldn’t even imagine being part of a reality TV show. “Um, I’m not sure… I mean, I have patients I need to see.”

“You could reschedule them,” Darius said quickly. “You work too hard, could use some time off. You’ve told me that before. Why not grab hold of this? Challenge yourself in a different way?”

Hadn’t she just been hankering for change? The idea of doing something daring appealed to her. She’d played it safe for so long. But she wasn’t convinced this was her type of daring… “I’m just not…cut out for TV,” she said with a laugh that sounded nervous even to her own ears.

Winnie cocked her head. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve never aspired to be an actor, never even tried out for anything.”

“I’m not looking for professional actors,” she said. “Just solid contestants. Men and women who want to fall in love and would make good spouses, so that any couples who get together as a result of the show stand a good chance of lasting.”

Aja had thought Darius was reckless for agreeing to find a mate in such a way. She couldn’t do it, too! And yet… She could sense him silently pleading with her. “Darius would be perfect—”

Winnie interrupted her again, this time with a skeptical expression. “He’s a little young.”

Damn. That wasn’t just a statement. It’d come off like a decree. The woman was going to stick with her both-or-neither offer…

“Come on, Aja. Live a little,” Darius murmured, and she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint him. Why not throw away the rule book for a change? It’d be an adventure, an experience. Besides, she could be one of the contestants who got rejected after the first date. Then, she would’ve helped her brother without it even costing her much time away from her practice.

But just in case, she asked, “How long would it take to film the whole season?”

“A little over a month,” Winnie told her. “But you’ll be well-compensated. Even if you get kicked off the show, you make about three-fourths as much as those still on it for promotional support, in case we need you to come back for an episode here or there, or do a talk show or something. And we do our homework. The psychologists who work with our contestants are some of the best. They do an analysis on each person to establish an in-depth personality profile that takes into consideration their hopes and dreams.”

“How long would I have to notify my patients and shift my schedule around?” Aja said.

“We start filming in three weeks,” Winnie continued. “Before that, though, I’d need you to come back and meet the director, take some pictures and test video for promotional purposes, get a medical exam, which, just to warn you, includes some drug testing, and go through a pretty rigorous psychological exam.”

“The psychological exam is different from the personality tests?” Darius asked.

“It is. This one’s designed to weed out any fragile or dangerous people.” She waved a hand as if to say it was just a formality. “I’m sure you’ll both pass with flying colors, but I wanted to mention it so that you’re prepared, and also to reassure you that the people you meet will have been put through the same safety precautions.”

“Sounds like it’ll be busy even before we start to film,” Aja said.

Winnie tightened the ponytail at her nape. “There will be some appointments, for sure, but we can work around your schedule to give you the time you need.”

“Will you do it?” Darius pressed.

Why not? This meant so much to him. Maybe it really would be his big opportunity. “Okay,” she said.

“Yes!” Her brother pumped his fist and a smile spread over the producer’s face. Winnie was obviously pleased to have gotten her way. Aja guessed she was rarely denied.

“Wonderful.” The producer got to her feet. “Just give me a minute while I grab the contracts, and we can go over them together.”

* * *

“So…you’re really going to do this?” Mack asked skeptically. “This…producer woman is that gorgeous?”

Grady had driven six hours to Silver Springs, where he’d spent the night with his youngest brother and his wife, Natasha. He was now only two hours from LA and, after having breakfast with them and their three kids in their new home tucked back in the hills, he was just climbing into his truck to be able to make his lunch appointment with Winnie Bruckner. “She’s that gorgeous.”

Tasha stood next to Mack on the sidewalk, holding their youngest, a little girl who was about to turn one, in her arms while their oldest kicked a soccer ball in the front yard with his brother. “But you’re going to be marrying someone else,” she said, her forehead creasing in confusion.

“Winnie needs one more male contestant, and she’s out of time. Filming starts in a week. I’m just doing her a favor…and hoping to get to know her in the process.”

“In the process of marrying someone else,” Mack responded, going right back to the point his wife had made.

“It’s just a show!” he said in exasperation. “The marriage can be annulled.”

Mack grimaced as he stretched his neck. “Doing this… It…doesn’t seem like you.”

It wasn’t like him. But he had an opportunity; he figured he might as well take it. All his brothers had wives and families. So did his friends. It felt as though he was being left behind. And it wasn’t as if he’d reached out to Winnie. A week after he met her, she’d gone to the trouble of looking him up and calling him at the auto body shop, and what she’d said made a lot of sense. “If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always got,” she’d said. “So why not take a chance?”

Agreeing to participate could be a big mistake, something he’d live to regret. He was well aware of that. But playing it safe wasn’t getting him what he wanted. At least this way he’d be in almost daily contact with her. “I’ll just pick a contestant I’m completely incompatible with—who will refuse to marry me, so no one gets hurt—and see how it goes with Winnie in the time I’m there.”

“No doubt she’ll be grateful that you’ve made the effort to take so much time off work and drive to LA to save her show,” Tasha said. “But…it’s weird to think she’ll be trying to pair you up with someone else.”

“And even if it goes great, and you wind up seeing her instead, what happens if word gets out that you’re dating the producer?” Mack asked. “Won’t that cause a big PR fiasco? One that could ruin the show?”

Grady got in and buckled his seat belt, leaving the door open so they could continue to talk. “I guess if things go that well, we’d just wait until the show’s over before we start to date.”

“But it films before it airs,” Tasha said. “You might be waiting a while.”

“It’ll air right after, and we can always talk behind the scenes.”

“Okay, but…” Tasha adjusted the bow in baby Hazel’s hair. “Are you sure she’s not taking advantage of your interest in her?”

He lifted his hands. “I’m not sure of anything. But you know what they say—nothing ventured, nothing gained. We’ll see how it goes.”

He took the baby and gave her a kiss before handing her back. “I’ll stay in touch.” He yelled goodbye to the boys, who yelled back, almost in unison, “‘Bye, Uncle Grady!”

Mack and Natasha exchanged a worried look, but he’d already arranged for the time off and come this far. He wasn’t turning back now.

He closed the door and started the engine. Before he could drive off, however, he heard his phone ding with a text.

It was from Winnie: You’re still coming, right?

I’ll be there, he wrote back and waved as he pulled away from the curb.