“Didn’t connect? What has that to do with anything?” wailed Millie.
Charlotte pointed at Annie’s phone. “What is that Twitter saying now?”
Annie glanced at her phone screen. “It’s saying … Huh, that’s weird. It’s not saying anything.” She refreshed her phone, but nothing happened. “I think my Twitter app crashed.”
“Crashed?” Millie looked confused. “You mean, it got in an accident?”
Annie scrolled through her phone apps. Everything else looked fine. She uninstalled the app, then reinstalled it, but nothing happened.
She went to Google and typed in the word TWITTER. The first thing that popped up was: SINGLE GAL FANS SWARM TWITTER WITH PROTESTS AFTER FAVORITE GETS THE BOOT.
“Oh my God.”
“What? What’s going on?” Mom asked.
Annie bit back an incredulous laugh. “I think your guy Sam just crashed Twitter.”
3
Sam did a double take. The guy in the duck suit got a rose. Was this a joke?
Don Carmichael, the show’s host, gave the remaining men an oily smile. “Gentlemen, if you didn’t receive a rose tonight, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Not a problem. Sam was more than ready to get out of here.
Dave turned and gave him a bro hug. “Tough luck, dude.” He leaned over and whispered, “Make sure you cry in your exit interview. Either that or get really pissed. It’s the only way you’re going to be able to milk this.” Then he slapped him on the back and went on to give some advice to the next rose-less chump.
Exit interview? Not likely. It was time to cut his losses. First thing on his agenda was getting out of this sweaty suit and into a hot shower, followed by a solid eight hours of shuteye, then a plane trip back home to Texas.
In twenty-four hours, he’d be back at the ranch, working from his home office, eating his mother’s shepherd’s pie and trading quips with Becks. After supper, he’d drive his pickup into the nearby town of Baylee Flats. Maybe go to Wilbur’s Bar and Grill to play a game of pool with the guys. There would be some good-natured ribbing about tonight, but that was to be expected. He could hear his buddies now.
Hey, Sam! What’s the duck got that you don’t?
For God’s sake, man, did you just let out a supply of gas?
Telling Hannah he “supplied” gas hadn’t been his finest moment.
Nothing he could do about it now, though.
He went through the loser gauntlet, shaking hands with guys he barely knew, accepting their words of condolences. Finally, it was time to say goodbye to Hannah.
One by one, the other rejects went up to give her a hug. He’d be okay with slinking out the door, but it was probably best to say his goodbyes too.
“I’m so sorry it didn’t work out between us,” she said, her eyes all big and sad-looking like she was about to cry. “I just know one day you’ll find someone really special. Someone who can appreciate all the wonderful qualities you have to offer a woman.”
“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled. How she knew he had all these “wonderful” qualities from one clumsy conversation, he had no idea.
She leaned in and gave him a quick hug. “Goodbye, Sam.” At least she remembered his name this time.
“Bye, Hannah. Best of luck.”
“Best of luck to you too.” She gave him another sad smile. This time, there was something in it that reached her eyes the way the other smiles hadn’t. Like she knew something that he didn’t and she felt truly bad about it. Then the smile vanished, and that was that.
He headed out the door, where he was welcomed by a blast of crisp, cool late-night air. This was more like it. He’d suspected that the heat had been on inside the mansion. Either that or all those lights with the accompanying cameras had produced the equivalent of Dante’s Inferno.
He stood in the courtyard for a few seconds, unsure where to go. Was he supposed to get his own ride back to the hotel? They’d taken away his cell phone, so he couldn’t call for an Uber.
“Not so fast, my friend,” came a voice from behind. He turned to see one of the camera guys gesturing to him. Shit. Was he still on camera?
“I thought the live portion of the show was over.”
The cameraman laid down his equipment. “We’re on a commercial break. Then we’re coming back to Hannah and her guys. We only have time for one exit interview, and the boss says it’s gotta be you. You got thirty seconds, so make it good.”
“No, thanks. Just hand over my cell phone so I can get out of here.”
“C’mon, man, throw me a bone.”
Sam put his hand out, palm up. “I said, I want my phone back.”
The cameraman shook his head like this was the last thing he needed. “Tammy to the set pronto,” he said into his mouthpiece.
Almost instantly, Tammy Prentis, the producer who’d been assigned to help him acclimate to the show, emerged from a side trailer and rushed toward them. Tammy was a little high-strung but nice enough. “Sam! Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She gave him a hug. “I can’t believe Hannah didn’t give you a rose. The network is furious with her. We all are, actually.”
“Not a problem. Listen, Tammy, I need my phone back so—”
“Of course! But first, we have to get your exit interview.”
“I’m not too good with these things, so maybe you can get another guy?”
“Another guy?” She pulled out a phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his phone. “You have no idea what’s happened in the past two hours since the show’s been on the air, do you? Sam, you’re this season’s big thing! People can’t stop Tweeting about you.”
Tweeting about him? What was she talking about?
“Thirty seconds till we go back live, Tammy,” announced the cameraman. “Let’s just get another guy.”
“Let me handle this, Jed,” she said to the guy behind the camera. She turned to plead with him. “Please, Sam, I know you probably think I have this glamorous job, but I’m a single mom with two kids, and I barely make ends meet. The network wants you, and I promised them I’d deliver.” Her eyes filled with tears. What was it about the females out here in California that they could all produce tears at the drop of a hat?
“Please,” she whispered desperately.
Only a dick would say no. “Okay, but then I want my phone back.”
“Great!”
“We’re live in ten seconds,” said Jed.
“Can I have some water?” Sam asked.
“Not just yet,” said Tammy. “You can have anything you want right after the interview. I promise.”
“Five seconds!” yelled a guy holding a light. He flashed it in Sam’s face. A crew hand ran over to straighten his mic.
“And, we’re live!”
“It must be awful being eliminated the first night. How do you feel about that?” Tammy prompted off camera.
“It sucks,” Sam said honestly.
Tammy beamed like she was pleased. “Was Hannah your idea of the perfect woman?”
“Sure, I guess so.” Tammy made a rolling motion with her hand, urging him to say more. “Yeah, Hannah was awesome,” he added.