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I waved down a taxi as he continued to tell me that he would fly me out of here right now. We slid into the back seat of the cab as I turned to him, “Rodeo Drive or Venice Beach?”

“You don’t want to stay and actually do this-you want to go home, right?”

“Venice Beach,” I decided for him, tapping on the cabbie’s glass panel. The car pulled out into traffic.

I laughed. “No, I’m fine. I overheard some of the guys saying that the bookies in Vegas have already started a pool over whether I’ll run away before the show airs. Somebody’s going to lose a lot of money, because I’m staying.”

He smiled and looked out the window as the buildings blurred past. “Thanks for the help in there,” he said sheepishly. “I have no clue what I’m supposed to do when a woman pulls something like that-I couldn’t hit her and I didn’t have any idea what to say.”

“I could tell. Unfortunately, so could she. I’m thinking she’s going to be a thorn in our side for the next several days.”

He groaned, but she was forgotten quickly on the streets of Venice Beach.

We were at the studio right on time the next morning as Don approached and said we had a plane to catch. “You’re going to Tennessee with a film crew to shoot your practice with Rascal Flatts at 2 p.m. today. You’ll be back by about 9 p.m. and then it’s back here tomorrow at noon for the dress rehearsal. Doors open for our first taping with an audience at 6 p.m.”

“I can fly her to-”

“Sorry, Romeo, the flight is already scheduled,” he said dismissively.

“His name is Ryan,” I sternly reminded Don, letting him know I didn’t like his remark.

He gave a half smile, “Sorry, Ryan-I’ll remember that next time. We have a plane and a crew ready. By the way, Annalisa, I need your song choice for next week. Have you given any thought about what you’d like to sing?”

I had actually been thinking about it ever since I agreed to do the show. If these people were going to give me an opportunity to send a message to Micah, I would make sure the message was clear, “’Everything I Do’ by Bryan Adams.”

“Oooh,” Don remarked in a very drawn out manner.

“Why? Is there something wrong with that song?”

“No, I think it’s a little old for someone your age, but Bryan Adams lives in London.”

Now I understood the ‘Oooh’ remark.

“Don’t worry about it, Annalisa. If that is your song choice, we’ll make it happen. He may not even be in London this time of the year. Go to Tennessee and have a good time and we’ll figure this out when you get back.”

It was a little different to not have Ryan at the helm, and it would have been nice to just sit together in the back of the plane and relax and talk except for the camera crew, Pete Claxton on camera and Jason Kelley on sound. I tried talking them into turning it off, but that was a lost cause.

The jet was roomy and comfortable and our seats were side by side so we just reclined, turning our backsides toward the camera. Ryan’s arm draped over the seats to rest across my waist. It had been a while since I’d felt the comfort of sleeping under his touch and it didn’t take long before I dozed. Just before I drifted off, I was thinking about Candace. If a clip of this made it on the show, even though we technically weren’t sleeping together, it would probably still qualify in her book as the same thing. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get mad.

We woke just as the wheels touched down on the Tennessee airstrip. Our meeting would be at a studio in Nashville.

“You nervous?” Ryan asked as we were about to enter the building.

I know he could tell, but I put on my braver-than-I-felt front and smiled, “Of course, not.”

He laughed-he knew I was terrified.

I’m not really sure what I expected, but it ended up being a blast. The guys from the group, Gary, Jay and Joe were down-to-earth, very personable and fun to be around. They made me immediately comfortable as they ran through the song once before I sang it with them.

“I’d like to change the lyrics just a little bit to fit my situation, if that’s okay?”

The guys looked at each other and shrugged, wanting to know what I wanted to change.

“When it comes to the chorus and says, ‘watching you walk away,’ I want to change it to say, ‘having to run away.’”

The guys laughed. Running away was supposed to be my modus operandi anyway, and Micah wasn’t the one who left me. I wanted the song tailored to reflect my feelings for him.

They agreed to try it with me singing my revised lyrics. Ryan sat smiling and watching as the music began.

The song went very well, even if I did shed a few tears before the end, but the adjusted lyrics worked perfectly. The guys were impressed with my singing, but I wasn’t happy with the ending chorus.

“You hit that last part, ‘…was being so close’ with so much feeling and I don’t think my version has the same intensity as yours, but I want that intensity.”

Gary and I practiced the final chorus a few times until I felt like I knew how to hit it correctly and then it was my turn to try singing the song alone.

I was even more emotional when I sang it by myself, but the emotions worked so well to evoke all the feelings the lyrics deserved. I was wiping away the tears, as I hugged and thanked them all for their help.

Two hours in Nashville vanished quickly, and, before it seemed we had a chance to breathe, it was back on the plane and back to Los Angeles. The camera guys warmed up to us in studio, so the cameras were turned off for the return trip. We actually had a good time talking and getting to know one another.

Wednesday’s taping went well with the exception of Carrie still trying to cause problems and rattle me. Ryan was a little more vocal in his efforts to keep her at bay, but she wouldn’t be dissuaded. She wanted to pick a fight with me so badly and Ryan was her ticket to the match. After the first three contestants were cut and the audience left the studio, everyone met back stage to say goodbye to the girls. Carrie was being loud and laughing about my tears while I performed on stage. It didn’t bother me about crying while I sang, and even the judges said I had given the best performance of the night, but she wouldn’t let it go.

“I’d be worried if I were you, sweet-cheeks,” she crooned to Ryan as she continually tried to touch him, “I think your little runaway might be regretting her decision.”

He had become more at ease with all the contestants, including her. She simply caught him off guard the first day. He smiled as he dodged her attempts to reach the more personal areas, “I love her no matter what happens, so I’m good with whatever she decides.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are ‘good,’” she remarked as she licked her lips and made a grab for his crotch.

He stepped back just in time as I moved between them for what seemed like the hundredth time, “Would you just back off?”

“And just what, little girl, are you gonna do if I don’t?” she said, puffing up and putting herself in my face.

Ryan had my shoulder and was attempting to move me behind him, when she put her hand on my chest and pushed me into him.

“If you want to fight me, then come out and say it,” I growled as I pulled out from under his grip. “You’re bold enough about everything else-like trying to intimidate people who are too nice to tell you to keep your damn hands to yourself!” At this point I was advancing into her and actually caused her to take a step back, but I wasn’t finished with what I had to say. “I’d really like to know what the problem is,” I continued as my fury over her constant needling built, “don’t you have a man that will put up with you?”

“That does it!” And she started swinging.

I blocked the punch, and swept her leg out from under her with mine, knocking her to the floor. She grabbed my ankle and I went down on top of her. Ryan and the crew were on us in a flash as she tried to head butt me, but I managed to slam her cheek with an elbow strike. The blow rendered her senseless long enough for them to separate us.