1
JULIETTE
June
You’re kind of a handful.
Those five words played in my brain over and over, and not even the soft hum of my car’s engine or the music playing through the speakers could drown them out. I hadn’t listened to the audio. I didn’t need to.
Living through the moment once was enough. Being told you’re a handful by a man you’re falling for was something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
My feelings for Tony on the show were real and so was my excitement to continue exploring our relationship. But my enthusiasm disappeared as soon as he said those words to me. Words that made me feel small, embarrassed, and like I wasn’t enough. No way in hell was I going to pine after a man who made me feel that way or allow him a space in my heart.
The way he acted during that conversation was a complete switch from the Tony I’d gotten to know. It gave me flashbacks to my various exes, making me question my judgment of men. How did I not see the red flags from the beginning? I’d gotten it completely wrong.Again.
Until the article published, I didn’t even know a recording of our conversation existed. We had already taken off our microphone packs, but they were still in the room. My guess was one of them hadn’t been properly turned off and captured our conversation.
I thought I’d be able to give a simple reason for our breakup—it just didn’t work out—andmove on fromParadise Love, from Tony. But that wasn’t the case.
I’d be fine if I never heard or saw anything related to the show again for as long as I lived.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened as a love song crooned through the car’s speakers. I let out a groan, immediately reaching over to turn off the volume. I’d settle on listening to the low, rhythmic rumble of the tires on the highway instead.
I glanced over at my car’s center console screen to see how much time I had left driving. Two hours.
Another two hours of monotonous scenery through the car window, and I’d be able to have a glass of wine. Or maybe I should skip the wine this time. A glass of wine (several, technically) was part of the reason I was in this mess.
At the end of last year, I’d come home from a girls’ night frustrated with my string of failed relationships. I saw a call for applicants for a dating show while scrolling social media. I was on my couch waiting for my Taco Bell delivery and thought,screw it. So, I applied.
When I got selected for the various rounds of interviews, the producers convinced me this show was different from other dating shows and they were looking for contestants who were serious about settling down. They even had us complete multiple personality and compatibility tests to ensure they were selecting people who would connect romantically. They claimed thetypical struggles of being on a dating show wouldn’t apply here, becauseParadise Lovewas different.
It didn’t take much convincing for me to accept my spot on the show when they offered it. I mean, hello, a trip to Fiji to find love with someone kind, funny, and also looking to settle down? Someone I could potentially create a future with? Yes, please.
I trusted the people behind the show. It was optimistic of me—I knew thatnow—but they said all the right things. Just like Tony had. I tended to wear my heart on my sleeve, but maybe I shouldn’t. So far, it hadn’t gotten me anything except a few forgettable exes and public embarrassment.
Even though the producers claimedParadise Lovewas different, it wasn’t. I wasn’t immune from the low after filming, having my life impacted, or hearing everyone’s opinion on social media. The show used me for ratings and had no problem doing so.
I reached for a sour gummy worm from the bag in my cupholder, going for the head first and ripping the piece of candy as I took a bite.
A ring filled the car, and I let out a groan when I saw it was my older brother Grant calling.Again. I loved my family, but they hadn’t left me alone since the article was published. I get they were worried and wanted to help, but they didn’t understand how embarrassing it was to have your biggest insecurities splashed online for thousands of people to comment on.
I was tired of talking and thinking about the show, about Tony, about all of it. But I also knew I couldn’t avoid my brother forever. Reluctantly, I hit the button on my steering wheel to answer. Might as well get this over with.
“Hey, Grant. What’s up?”
“Hey, Jules. I have an update about your apartment.”
I let out a sigh. My apartment in Chicago flooded while I was filming the show, and my landlord made it clear he would get things fixed…at his own pace. I couldn’t move back in until he was done with the work.
Luckily, I’d moved most of my belongings to storage before heading to Fiji, and Grant lived in Chicago, too, so I was able to crash on his couch once I got back. Due to his busy schedule as a lawyer in the city, I actually hadn’t seen him much, which allowed me to wallow in peace. But I needed to have a space of my own—and a bed. I was only twenty-seven, but I swear my back ached more after graduating college.
“Oh, yeah? What’d you find out?” I asked curiously. When I’d told Grant about being kicked out, he’d insisted on looking at my lease to figure out a solution. It was the lawyer in him.
I heard Grant’s key unlocking his condo as we spoke. “Well, I was right. Your landlord can’t kick you out without giving you accommodations, especially since the damage wasn’t your fault. But there are no empty units in your building, so he’s going to ask the property company to find you an apartment in a different building. I also made it clear you won’t be paying rent while you’re not living there. Might take them a bit to find you a new place, but at least—” He stopped. “Where the hell is your shit?”
For the last couple of weeks, my makeup, clothes, and shoes had been scattered around his neat apartment. And now they weren’t. They were packed up in boxes in the trunk of my car.
“About that…” I laughed awkwardly. “I appreciate you looking into the apartment thing.” I waved my hand as I spoke, even though he couldn’t see me. “But I actually have it figured out. Well, sort of. I found a cabin in northern Wisconsin that I rented out for a few months. I’m making the drive up now. I’m about two hours away from the property.”
