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“Rachelle! Come on. We’re just joking around,” Henry called after her.
Rachelle kept moving. She was nearing the boardwalk. If she got to the parking lot, she could call her mother and have her pick her up as though she were fourteen and needed her help. It was pathetic, but it was the only way.
“Come on, Rachelle. We need a statement from you,” Henry called. “You signed a contract, remember? And I have to guess you didn’t read the fine print to learn what happens if you don’t play along?”
Rachelle froze at the far edge of the dock. Fine print? They’d flung the contracts in front of their faces, had them sign, and moved on, quick as lightning. How could she have read the fine print?
“Tell us about Eddie,” Henry urged. “What do you like about him?”
Rachelle felt doubled over with pressure. Slowly, she turned and glared at Henry. Directly beside him, Eddie smiled gently at her, pushing her on. It was all a game, his eyes seemed to say. Play along.
And Diana had said that, too. She’d said to give the television show what they wanted.
And so, Rachelle said, “I think I’m falling in love with him.”
The impact of those words hit her hard. She hated how real they felt.
Henry turned back toward Eddie and said, “Can you compare Diana and Rachelle for us? What attracts you to them?”
Rachelle glowered at Eddie. He needed to put an end to these Diana rumors. He needed to align himself with Rachelle. They were on a date, for goodness’ sake. Didn’t that mean anything?
“They’re so different,” Eddie said, “but also the same. Both gorgeous, obviously.”
“No doubt,” Henry agreed.
Rachelle’s jaw dropped. She continued to glare at Eddie, daring him to look her in the eye. But as he continued to monologue, saying, “I never imagined I’d be looking for the one at The Clam Factory, but here I am,” a sinking realization came over her. She felt like scum at the bottom of the ocean.
Eddie was using her.
“I hate that I have to choose between them,” Eddie was saying to Henry. “I have so much love in my heart.”
Chapter Sixteen
Rachelle couldn’t sleep that night. She tossed and turned in bed, listening to the apartment building creak around her, before finally giving up around three thirty to sit in front of the television and watch anything she could find. After an hour of flicking from dating shows to travel shows to bad sitcoms, she began a very old episode of Diana and Ryan March’s show, in which they made sushi in Japan, and realized that Diana was approximately her age at that time. Every time Diana looked up at Ryan, her eyes echoed with love.
What had happened between them? Why was Diana all alone on Nantucket?
Rachelle snapped off the show and sat in darkness. Outside, a spring wind howled, darting through the old-world streets of the home Rachelle loved so much. Darcy hadn’t come home last night, as she and Steven had had one too many beers at Steve’s parents’ place and decided to spend the night in their guest room. It sounded so cozy, so real. Rachelle ached, remembering she’d assumed her first date with Eddie would eventually find her with his parents in their guest room, building a life and a love.
Rachelle slept fitfully between five and six thirty, then got up to shower, change, and head to work. She wanted to get there early to prep everything and prove herself to Diana.
More than that, she needed to talk to her. She needed to apologize.
Rachelle was in Diana’s office when she arrived. Diana burst with surprise. “Oh! You scared me.” She frowned and let her shoulders drop. “What happened, honey?”
There was a tenderness to Diana’s voice. Rachelle had to stop herself from bursting into tears.
“I just wanted to tell you that you were right,” Rachelle said softly, unable to look Diana in the eye.
Diana dropped into the chair beside Rachelle. She looked like she wanted to hug her but didn’t know how. “What did he do?”
Rachelle squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. It was too difficult to say aloud.
“I wanted to apologize,” she whispered. “You tried to warn me.”
“Don’t think about that, now,” Diana said. “It was stupid of me to text you like that. I’ve been your age before. I know what it’s like to fall in love with someone. I know how painful it can be.”
Rachelle bowed her head as the pressure on her chest disintegrated. She wanted to tell Diana how many men she’d dated, that she was more experienced than she looked. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Rachelle had dated here and there, sure. But the majority of her time had been spent in kitchens across Boston as she’d pushed herself obsessively toward her goals.
