We talk over dinner and drinks for more than two hours. Miriam has tried to fix me up dozens of times, but never with a woman like this. Alexandra is smart, beautiful, poised … the adjectives to describe her are endless. So why is it I’m more interested in talking shop with Stephen than getting to know the stunning—and available—woman?

“You know, Alexandra just accepted a deal with Fox as a correspondent,” Miriam says in an attempt to break up the business discussion Stephen and I have going.

“That’s great. What show?” I say. I’d actually assumed she was an actress.

“Entertainment Fashion Files. I’m doing their nightly style report.”

“Congratulations.”

“It’s not exactly my dream job. But it’s a foot in the door.”

“We had three networks that wanted her. We took a short contract. We know she’s destined for bigger things,” Miriam adds proudly.

I nod and smile politely. The conversation falls awkwardly silent for a moment, so I try to feign interest, even though I really want to grab the check when the next waiter passes by. “What was your project before this one?”

“I was on a reality show,” she replies sheepishly.

“Which one?”

“Mr. Right.”

“Is that one of Miles’s?” I look to Miriam. I can’t keep track of all his reality programs anymore. Well, except for one I may or may not have a bit of a small obsession with.

“No. It was on cable.”

“Was the bachelor a nice guy?” Curiosity gets the best of me.

“Well. He was on the show. Or at least I thought he was.”

“But he wasn’t?” See. I knew my first instinct was right. Flynn is a dickhead.

“It’s just really hard to see a person for who they are in that environment. You see what they want you to see.”

“What did they want you to see?”

“A great guy.”

“Was it a show where the women are eliminated?”

“Aren’t they all?” She smiles resignedly.

“I suppose.” The waiter interrupts and I finally get the chance to ask for the check, but this conversation has definitely captured my attention. “How long did you last on the show?”

“Until the end.”

“You were the winner?”

“If you can call it that.”

“How long until you split up?”

“I found out he was sleeping with the wardrobe person the day after the finale.”

“Sorry.”

“Thanks. But it’s okay. It opened doors for me. I’m just a little embarrassed I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. The producers make it impossible to not get caught up in the moment. They create a fairytale. The problem is, the prince turns into a pumpkin instead of Prince Charming.”

An hour later I’m back home. I didn’t even bother to ask for Alexandra’s number. It made for an awkward departure, but leading people on was never my thing. She’s beautiful, yet it’s not her face I keep replaying in my mind from tonight. The producers make it impossible to not get caught up in the moment. Her words echo in my head, over and over.

I can’t stop myself from picking up the DVD. It’s been sitting on the dining room table since the doorman handed it to me on the way back from my run this morning. I woke up thinking about Kate, thought the run would help me clear my mind. No such luck.

Now the damned thing is taunting me. The labeled jewel case is like a magnet to my eyes. I stalk through my apartment to find something to busy myself with, but it’s no use. My eyes constantly flicker back and forth. Settling in on the couch after a shower, I grab the paper and force my mind into the business section. The table is in sight from the corner of my eye. Like a child unable to control himself, I actually have to raise the newspaper so the case is out of view. I read the same paragraph three times anyway.

Goddamn it. I should tell Miles to stop sending the dailies. But I won’t. Because I’m pussy-whipped obsessed with a woman who is dating another man.

I curse myself as I angrily swipe the case from the table and head to my laptop.

Dickhead comes on screen first. He’s being interviewed by the host alone.

“So, Flynn, you’ve got a pretty big decision coming up. The final four—overnight dates. You’ve got to have some strong feelings for these ladies to pick them at this point. Tell me, are you struggling with your choices? What’s going on in that head of yours right now?”

“Well, Ryan. You’re right, I am struggling, but probably not for the reasons you think. I do have some strong feelings, but some of the ladies, well, one in particular, I can’t read where her head is at.”

“You don’t think your feelings are being reciprocated?”

“I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell. She’s incredible, but I feel like she’s still holding back.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“That’s the struggle. Sometimes I feel like I haven’t penetrated her heart the same way she has mine. But then there’s these other times … when she opens up and we have these incredible moments and I think she feels it too. Those times, I wonder if the camera is what’s holding her back.” It’s not the camera, Dickhead.

“Tough choice. So how do you decide if she should be in the final four?”

“Oh. That’s the only one I’m sure about. There’s no doubt I’m picking her to go to the final four. There are no cameras in the overnight suite. A night alone is exactly what the two of us need.”