Page 11 of Cosplay & Consequences

Unfortunately, she caught my reaction to the photo of “Fiona” and grinned at me like a deranged lunatic. “Oh no! You are not!”

I hated Paige when she was like this. I went straight into denial mode. “I’m not what?”

“You’re smitten!” she exclaimed.

My head began to pound. “Paige, seriously, stop. You’re going to wake everyone up.”

She cackled at my request and continued. “Has this con hookup evolved into a fling?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

Paige held her hands up in the air, as if visualizing a grand headline before her. “I can see the tabloids now! Marlin Sinbad falls in love at first sight!”

“Okay, that’s enough!” I snapped.

Paige took a step back, frowning, knowing she had gone too far. I immediately regretted growling at her. She was having fun, and I was being too judgmental about myself.

“I’m sorry,” I said, gently. “I had a nice night. But we both know how it’s going to end. Once she gets past the wig and the costume, she’ll lose interest because I’m not the character or the so-called star they see on screen.”

“Yeah, but nobody knew it was you in that get up,” Paige pointed out. “It’s still you.”

“It wasn’t me. It’s a character I was playing. I might as well have been acting like Marlin out there. She didn’t choose me. She doesn’t want me. She wants Tyrst’an.”

The glow and warmth of the evening had faded away. My mind began to spin into the inevitable disappointment. A numb feeling crept over me. “I need to get to bed.”

“Uh, yeah, you probably do,” Paige said, fiddling with her phone. “Your schedule changed. You need to be up in four hours for your workout session with Jorge.”

I groaned and headed to my room in the suite. “Why so early?”

“Because Britta scored an interview for you at 9:00. It’s with that influencer who rated you ‘meh’.”

I turned to her in disbelief. “Seriously? I have to literally impress the person who kicked off the hate campaign against me?”

“She didn’t start the hate campaign,” Paige pointed out. “She became the face of it.”

“This is a horrible idea,” I groaned.

“It’ll be fine. You’re great at interviews. I prepped some notes for you-”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. I had been through this too many times before. “Oh, please. It’ll be like any other interview. First, she’ll bring up Juilliard and the Emmy, and make fun of me for it. Then I’ll get roasted for the Kismet Sizzle song she wrote about me and then snide comments about working in soap operas.”

“Read the notes, Danny.” Her tone left no room for argument.

“I’ll read the notes,” I promised half-heartedly. “After I get some sleep.”

I headed to my bed and undid the fasteners of the leather vest. Paige continued to hover outside my door. For once she wasn’t on her phone or looked like she was going to roast me.

“What, Paige?”

She let out a small sigh. “Danny, not every relationship is going to end up being a dumpster fire. You need to open yourself up and see what’s out there. For the last six years it’s been you, me, and the Boss.”

“I find this hilarious coming from you,” I said, scoffing. Paige was the commitment-phobe of the Finnegan family, without a doubt. If a guy she dated even showed the slightest bit of emotional attachment, he got kicked to the curb within a week.

Her gaze dropped to her feet and her hand raked through her hair. “I don’t want to see you alone, Danny.”

I tilted my head. Paige typically would have stomped off by now instead of admitting any kind of worry or concern on my behalf. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

She hesitated for a second before snorting at me in derision. “What? Me? No. I just don’t want to find you dead in your home, surrounded by cats that ate your face.”