Chapter 3, Part 2

Allie put the tablet away and jumped off the table.

"But Denny, you didn't even hear me out!"

"And I'm not going to! I heard 'love' and I heard 'show' . That's enough. I said no!"

"I need this chance! They made me assistant director on the project, and if the pilot takes off, my name gets attached to a serious production, and the show gets the best prime-time slot! Denny, please! I've been knocking on every door for three years! I need my first real professional win!"

"Great! I believe in you, Alice. But what does that have to do with me?"

"Valentine said the format was bold and could be tested in the pilot episode. But they need one more participant. Someone who isn't looking for a serious relationship. Not so he can lose, but to make the task harder... for someone. Never mind who! The show is a game where the participants fight to win by trying to form a couple and convince the viewers they're in love. Whoever the viewers believe wins. And the prize, Dennis, is huge! I started listing possible candidates... and then it hit me."

"It hit you?!" I looked at my sister again, already sensing disaster.

"Yes! I said I had a brother. Great looks, smart, bold, charismatic, with a charming smile and a sense of humor!.."

"No!"

"...and he's also a secret intellectual and a good sprinter, which makes him practically impossible for Cupid's arrows to hit. The perfect candidate!"

My brows climbed, and my jaw tightened.

"Allie, are you kidding me?! You couldn't just shove me at them!"

"I walked you to kindergarten and wiped your nose! I even taught you to read! Remember when I dragged you out of that birthday party in eighth grade, where you were planning to pierce your ear with a beer-can tab?! You were mad at me then, but afterward you said thank you! And now you're all grown up and won't do me one little... I mean absolutely teeny-tiny favor!"

Allie folded her fingers in front of herself, exactly like Catkin had done in the gym today when she hinted at the tiny size of something unclear, and flicked them against my nose.

"All you have to do, Denny, is say yes and go on seven dates. You don't even have to fall in love! We take couples and create a romantic situation. If there's chemistry, great. If there isn't, we still have a spectacle. You just show up and do what you do, and I direct! I promise, everything will be beautiful and romantic!"

"No!"

"Just one week, little devil! I've already filled out your profile, and... and I gave Valentine your phone number."

I shot to my feet, hoping I'd misheard.

"YOU DID WHAT?!!" I roared at the whole room.

Allie clasped her hands to her chest in a pleading gesture and batted her lashes guiltily.

"Dennis, it happened on its own! I swear! I just thought of you and... boom!.. you fit the profile and the horoscope perfectly!"

"Allie, damn it! That's a little far over the line, don't you think?! Over all the lines at once!"

"It is! You're absolutely right! But what if you really... fall in love? Huh, Denny?"

I exhaled... and inhaled again, nostrils flaring.

"No, you really are messing with me, big sister... You have a hundred friends, so why me?! There are tons of other guys lining up to be on stupid shows! Do I look like an idiot who'll hug someone under a romantic violin, drool dreamily over some pretty girl, and chew a burger for the cameras? I don't even do that in real life!"

"Well, there are always exceptions. Besides, how can you know the girl won't be your type?"

"She. Won't. Be. My. Type! People don't go on shows like that for feelings. They go for popularity. I wasn't born yesterday! Nobody there gives a damn about anyone! Save the fairy tales for the viewers!"

My sister's finger shot up at once in a director's gesture, and anticipation lit her eyes.

"That's it. More expression, Denny! Even when you're angry, it's epic. You get this sexy growl in your voice that makes me want to capture it..." Allie pointed toward her bedroom and narrowed one eye. "Can you wait one second while I run for the camera? I'll be quick!"

"Stay right there!"

"Staying."

I exhaled. Snatched the coffee cup off the table and drained it in one gulp. Only so I wouldn't pour it down my sister's collar.

"Fine, let's be honest, Alice," I said, thumping the cup onto the table. "All I'm looking for is a pizza coupon, a good gym playlist, and sometimes someone to sleep with. That's it! We go our separate ways and forget it. I'm not looking for love, and I don't go on dates. There won't be any chemistry!"

"And here I thought you'd always wanted to step out of the shadow of 'that Demond guy with the abs,' didn't you? Who's been pestering me for new book releases half his life?"

I froze.

"That one hurt, Alice."

Allie lowered her hands, and her chin suddenly trembled. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly, but I suddenly saw tears shining in her eyes. Real ones. Not theatrical tears in the spirit of 'make your brother feel sorry for you because of a tasty cupcake,' but quiet, exhausted tears, like after a long marathon.

My sister could forget dinner, fall for an idea at first sight, give her best shoes to a friend and forget about them. She could laugh at herself on a day everything fell apart and forget her own birthday, but she never lost hope and never stopped dreaming.

Even when people used her. Even when she was wrong about them. Even when she ended up alone.

"No, Dennis, that's not hurt," she suddenly said quietly, stripping the plea out of her voice. "Hurt is when you work your ass off for three years, and in the credits your name gets reduced to 'assistant.' When they hand your script to someone else because you refused dinner with a producer in a private hotel suite and everything that came with it. When they fire you for 'professional incompetence,' though really it was because you slapped away an arrogant hand under your skirt."

She exhaled, pulled my chair toward herself so its small wheels slid across the floor, and sat down in it. Fixing her hair, she lowered her eyes.

Now the woman in front of me wasn't optimistic Allie with her pile of ideas and plans. She was a young woman who'd had to defend herself too early. And, apparently, too often, if she'd finally decided to talk about it.

"Hurt, Denny, is watching my dream fall apart like a house of cards after all that work, and knowing the project will go to someone else. Because if we're being honest... there will be a fight for this show, and I'm afraid I'll lose. I'm afraid I won't handle it and I'll lose my chance to become a director in my own right. You're the only one who can help me keep control if something goes off plan. The only one I can trust."

Allie lifted her head and, with total sincerity, did her own version of the cat from Shrek. Then she breathed out quietly, with devastating sincerity:

"Please."

My older sister. Not very grown-up, often stubborn... impulsive, proud, generous, and endlessly dear.

And if someone had handed me a script right then where the stone-hearted hero turned away coldly and said no, I would have burned it. Because in real life, strange as it is, even hard-hearted people have their weaknesses.