Page 108 of Prime Time Romance

“Why is she wearing my dress?”

Poppy is in her own evening wear: a velvet body-hugging mermaid gown in such a deep shade of green that it’s almost black. Her hair is slicked back into a sleek ponytail, leaving not a single wisp to hide the look of utter disdain on her otherwise beautiful face.

“As I told you earlier, Luce’s dress is ripped.” I step forward, placing myself between them. “You had other things to worry about, so I came up with a solution. I think she looks beautiful.”

Poppy shakes her head. “No. Absolutely not. She cannot go out there in it. Take it off, now!” Poppy lunges. Her lacquered red nails look like talons as she grabs for the dress, almost as if she intends to rip it off Luce right here and now.

Luce, who ditched her heels earlier in favor of elegant flat sandals, has an agility not achievable in Poppy’s four-inch stilettos. Poppy’s hands grasp nothing but air as Luce ducks behind a crate of plastic lobsters, just as the emcee’s voice booms through the speakers. “And now, please welcome to the stage contestant number three: Ms. Lucille Cho.”

Luce’s eyes meet mine. I mouth a silent Go! while stepping in front of Poppy, arms outstretched, as if I’m fully prepared for her to drop her right shoulder and take me out with a diving tackle so she can chase Luce off the stage.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she turns the full force of her heated laser gaze on me. “You witch!”

There’s venom in her tone, and I’m surprised by how little it affects me. “It was the right thing to do, Poppy. You should have never ruined her dress. Even if you did it for me.”

Poppy swats my hands away. “Since when do you care about Luce?”

I hold up my hands again, this time in more of a gesture of defeat. “I am turning over a new leaf.”

“Well, turn it back.”

There’s a loud smattering of laughter coming from the audience. It halts our conversation. It’s a reminder that Luce is on the stage answering her question.

And from the sound of the crowd, she’s killing it.

Poppy stamps her foot. The crack of her heel is so loud that I’m surprised it doesn’t snap off.

“You’ve screwed everything up. You know that, right?”

I nod, knowing the repercussions are even worse than what Poppy’s implying.

She throws out her arm—a wild gesture in Luce’s direction. “Just so we’re clear, without a dress, there is no way in hell I am ever letting you out on that stage. Luce is going to win.”

“I am okay with that.” As the words come out, I know they are true. I am okay if Sloan never wins the crown—tonight or ever. Even if it means she never gets her supposed happily ever after.

She didn’t win fifteen years ago. It wasn’t the perfect ending everyone wanted, but she went on to do amazing things. Moved to Paris. Started her business. I have a feeling Sloan—I—will be okay this time too. Even if we’re not following the plan.

“Can I ask you something though?” I step toward Poppy, lowering my hands. The dress drama tonight sparked a thought about that season finale. A loose end that was never cleared up.

“Fifteen years ago, my dress. That was you too, wasn’t it?”

Poppy crosses her arms over her chest. “Guess you’ll never know.”

Guess I won’t. And I don’t need to. I’m done with Poppy either way.

There’s a round of roaring applause from the audience, the loudest I’ve heard all night. Poppy and I both turn and watch as Luce exits to the opposite side of the stage. Poppy adjusts her headset and glares at me one last time before turning her heel and heading in the opposite direction.

I’m alone when the emcee calls Sloan’s name. I debate, attempting to send him some hand signal to let him know that I’ve disqualified myself, but as I step toward the wing and catch sight of the audience, I realize that this may be my last opportunity to step out on this stage.

And I have something to say.

The announcer calls for Sloan Edwards again. In a split second, I make a decision. I sprint onto center stage before Poppy or anyone else can stop me.

The lights again blind me as I stumble toward the man with the microphone and try to remember precisely what I’m supposed to do. Find the X. Chest out. Smile.

My head is still swimming with everything that has happened.