InHap*pily Ever After (Incidental Happenstance)

by DeSalvo, Kim

  She showed her ticket to the guard at the front entrance and slipped into a seat just as the lights were dimming.

  *****

  Maybe she was biased, but Dylan was nothing short of amazing. He played the role perfectly and he looked damn good on the enormous screen. It was hard at first watching him interact with Penelope’s character and she had some minor personal issues with the love scenes, but she had anticipated it and it only took a spin of the ring on her finger to remind her that it was all an act. She recognized some of the backdrops from the tabloid pictures that had been burned into her brain and could see how they had so easily convinced the public that Dylan and Penelope were a couple. As much as she hated to admit it, Penelope was a good actress, and they looked like the real deal. Her character was much softer than she was in real life, so she was actually likeable. Somewhat.

  She reached over to pluck a few kernels of popcorn from the tub in Dylan’s lap and he grabbed her hand, snatching them with his mouth and then licking the butter from her fingers. Tia giggled and grabbed another handful, leaning her head on his shoulder and whispering, “You’re amazing, as always—how is it that I’m constantly impressed by you?”

  “It’s not bad so far, is it?” he said modestly. “You can never tell when you’re filming, and I’ve never been so nervous about an end result as I was with this one.”

  “Quit talking to me,” she smiled, “I’m trying to watch this amazingly hot guy on the big screen, and you’re throwing off my focus.” He squeezed her hand and then brought it to his mouth to press a kiss against the back of it.

  Penelope’s soul broke into pieces. She’d seen them on television, of course, thanks to that bitch of a prison guard who played it over and over and over; and she couldn’t resist watching their other appearances, just so she could see Dylan’s smile and hear his sexy, accented voice; but seeing them together in person was like having her heart ripped out and crushed by a steel-toed boot. He loved her. It was painfully obvious in the way he touched her, the way he smiled at her, and even the way he kept taking popcorn from her fingers. He really loved the bitch—even her friends in low places weren’t able to pry them apart. He wasn’t going to listen to her explanation; wasn’t going to give her another chance to be even a small part of his life. She went back and forth between watching them and watching herself interact with Dylan on the screen in front of her, and the juxtaposition was almost more than she could bear.

  Why didn’t she get a happy ending? Why was it that she had to struggle and fight for everything she got and that little skank of a school teacher got to live the life Penelope herself deserved? She’d paid her dues and her overdues and still she came out in last place. She watched as the final love scene played out—the one she should have done but that was instead filmed using a double shortly after she was taken to jail just for loving someone too much—and the anger boiled up inside her until it threatened to erupt. The credits rolled and the lights came on…

  …and Tia was the first one on her feet, clapping enthusiastically. She wiped tears from her eyes, both from the emotional ending of the film and the tremendous sense of pride she had in Dyl. He and the rest of the cast stood and took a bow, and the audience rose to its feet. It was going to be a hit—they could all feel it. There were a lot of handshakes, hugs, and back slapping, and the cast members pulled the production team up to the front of the theater so that they could get their own round of applause.

  “Speech!” someone called out, and Stan held his hand up for silence.

  “I have to say, I had my doubts about this one,” he smiled wryly, “but I will also say that I’ve never worked with a better group of professional people, and that no matter how tough things got, they never lost focus.” He looked at Dylan. “We lived and worked in some pretty primitive conditions, and as most of you know, our filming schedule was cut short by…unforeseen circumstances. I owe a big thank you to Dylan for toughing it out another couple days when all he really wanted to do was reclaim the life that was nearly taken from him, and to the editors for piecing together an ending worthy of the film with precious little to work with.” He paused, and swept his arm toward the screen which showed an image of the promo poster—a shot of Dylan, soaking wet, dragging himself out of a raging river. “I think we have a winner!”

  Stan handed the mic to Dylan, and he stepped to the center. “I want to say thanks to Stan, for his patience and understanding, and to the great people I got to know during this little adventure. I also want to reiterate Stan’s comment to the editing department—brilliant work, my friends.” Gary gave him a thumbs-up. “This is a little unconventional, but I want to thank all of you for your love and support during the past few months…it’s really meant a lot. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t thank Tia; for sticking with me through some tough times and for keeping the faith. I love you, baby girl.”

  Tia waved shyly at the audience and blew a kiss to Dylan.

  “Thank y’all for coming out this evening and sharing this with all of us.” He held out the mic and looked around at the other members of the cast and crew. “Anyone else want to say something?” he asked. They shook their heads shyly and looked around at each other.

  “I should’ve been invited here, you pompous jackasses! I should have been included!”

  All heads turned to where Penelope stood glaring angrily at the group lined up under the screen. The rest of the audience fell quiet, waiting to see what would happen next. Reporters scrambled out the exit doors to get camera crews that weren’t allowed inside the screening and banged into security personnel that were simultaneously rushing in to deal with a potential situation.

  Stan put his palms out in an attempt to calm her, giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head to the guards who were making their way down the aisle toward her.

  Dylan put his arm around Tia and led her toward the aisle furthest from Penelope. “I think this is where we make our exit,” he whispered.

  “Hi, Penelope,” Stan said. “It really is good to see you. Can we talk privately? I wish I could have explained all this to you ahead of time, but…”

  “Is it? Is it Stan? Is it good to fucking see me?” Stan nodded, trying but failing to put some sincerity into his smile, and Penelope raised her middle finger. “You know, I really don’t need to hear your bullshit explanation, thanks anyway. And this is bullshit. I am the star of this goddamn movie and I did a hell of a job. I should have walked the carpet—I deserved that!”

  “You’re right. Come on, let’s go somewhere quiet and talk it through, OK?”

  Penelope turned her head and narrowed her eyes at Dylan and Tia as they made their way up the aisle. “And you! You think you’re better than me because you dropped the charges? You are not better than me! You are nothing, understand? He’ll get tired of you so fast it’ll make your head spin!”

  Dylan tightened his grip around Tia’s waist and led her quickly toward the nearest exit. “Ignore it, baby, it means nothing,” he whispered as he hustled her up the aisle.

  “You are not better than me!” she yelled again.

  Something in Tia snapped. Her vision went foggy around the edges, her hands clenched into fists, and she felt all the anger and frustration that Penelope had forced her to endure bubble up to the surface and threaten to explode. She held her breath and willed it to simmer, but it wasn’t going to happen. She turned, pulled out of Dylan’s grasp and stormed down the aisle and across the front of the theater to face Penelope.

  “I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” she said, her eyes glaring. Dylan put his hand on her arm, and she shrugged it away, punching her hands to her hips and walking over to the end of the aisle where Penelope stood.

  “Let her go, Dylan,” Stan said, putting his own hand on Dylan’s arm. “She’s never really had a chance to deal with this. Let her have her say.” Dylan fell back into the line, eyeing the security guards that had already positioned themselves between the two women. They nodded at him to
indicate that they’d have the situation under control if it got out of hand.

  Tia stopped at the aisle entrance, with Penelope only a few yards away. “Oh, you know, wait—maybe I need to rethink that. I know I’m a better person than you, Esther, because I don’t look down my nose at everyone else in the world. I don’t lie, I don’t steal, and I would never intentionally try to destroy someone else’s happiness.”

  Penelope took two steps forward and Tia matched them. “Don’t try and make yourself out to be some sort of fucking martyr, because I’m not buying it. You dropped the charges for yourself, not for me, and don’t think I don’t know that.”

  “You don’t even know kindness when it’s staring you right in the face, do you?” Tia answered coolly. “I’m not trying to be a martyr, Penelope. I didn’t press charges because I thought that you’d been through enough. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, thanks to you, and I thought that spending time in jail, facing charges here, and the hit on your career and your personal life were enough punishment. Add losing Dylan to the whole mix—because I believe that in your deluded little mind you really think you did—and I thought that was punishment enough. I really don’t expect your thanks or your admiration, but I sure as hell deserve some respect. I’ve never done one thing to hurt you, despite everything you’ve done to me.”

  “I don’t owe you anything, you conniving little bitch. You didn’t earn any of this and you don’t deserve it. You’ve orchestrated this whole little nice girl routine to make the public take your side.”

  “I don’t have to orchestrate anything—there’s another big difference between you and me. I don’t pretend to be anything I’m not, and I…” Tia’s eyes widened and she turned and caught Dylan’s eye before continuing. “Speaking of orchestrating, would you happen to know anything about the little situation at the album party?”

  Penelope’s lips peeled up in a sneer. “Prove it.”

  “That’s pretty much what I thought,” Tia said softly, turning back to Dylan with an apology in her eyes. She was done here—done with letting others have control over her feelings, her self-confidence, and her faith in the most wonderful man she’d ever known. She took two more steps toward Penelope and looked her straight in the eye. “I am not better than you, but nor are you better than me. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can get on with a life that’s real and has some sort of meaning. I really do feel sorry for you, Penelope.”

  The fog cleared, and Tia looked around at the stunned faces and the backs of cell phones that had recorded her entire rant. She held her head high and faced them before turning slowly and walking into Dylan’s waiting arms. The audience burst into thunderous applause.

  “Let’s get out of here, baby. I’m done.”

  He pulled her in tight and brushed his lips against her ear. “You were fucking brilliant,” he whispered; and then, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he led her back up the aisle.

  “Why is there never a bus around when you need one?” Tia asked, her eyes sweeping the street as they ignored the constant click of the cameras and the shouts of the paparazzi and climbed back into the limo.

  “What do you mean?” Dylan asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” Tia replied, wrapping herself into Dylan’s loving arms.

  *****

  Welcome to Chit Chat! Dottie Miles said on Monday’s show. Tia knew that the scene between her and Penelope had hit social media even as she was walking out the door, and she knew that Dottie would have something to say about it. Even in hindsight Tia thought she’d handled it pretty well, but wanted to see what the media take was on the whole thing.

  “Well, it isn’t surprising that Penelope Valentine’s back in the news,” Dottie started. “And it’s even less surprising that she’s made a complete fool of herself—again.” She looked over at Abigail and narrowed her eyes.

  “OK, OK. I’ve been trying to give her the benefit of the doubt; mainly because no one else

  would; but she effectively lost any sympathy votes with her latest performance.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year,” Lynne agreed.

  “In case you missed it, we’ve got the video of her latest rant—and if you weren’t a Tia fan before, you will be after you see this. That lady has style.”

  “Thank you very much,” Tia said with a smile.

  They rolled the whole video, and Tia felt a touch of pride as she watched how well she handled the situation. She couldn’t help but giggle when she saw the part she had missed—Penelope’s less than graceful exit out the back door that included a trip and an awkward roll down the aisle.

  “Now that goes straight for the jugular, doesn’t it?” Lynne said, stifling her own giggle.

  “I can’t believe that Tia didn’t go straight for her jugular,” Dottie said. “I don’t know that I wouldn’t have.”

  “And what about the evil grin and the ‘prove it’ statement when Tia called her out about the record party? She pretty much admitted that she was behind it.”

  “Yes, I would say that it puts Dylan firmly in the clear, that’s for sure.”

  “That’s what we call ‘throwing herself under the bus,’” Lynne mused.

  “Now I don’t say this often, and I don’t say it lightly,” Dottie said, “but I’d love to be the one behind the wheel of that bus!”

  “You’ll have to get in line for that,” Tia said, clicking off the television and picking up her phone to call Dyl.

  Chapter 43

  “Good morning, ma’am,” the driver said, tipping his hat, as Lexi handed him her bags. He swung them into the trunk, and then looked at her, his eyes widening as recognition settled in. “Wait, I know you,” he said, surprised. “You’re Tia Hastings’s friend…you’re on your way to the wedding, aren’t you?”

  Lexi nodded, smiling, and held out her hand. “I’m Lexi,” she said.

  “Wow, the Maid of Honor. It’s my pleasure to be driving you today.” He held the door open for her, and she climbed in. Once he got behind the wheel, he turned. “OK, I’m really out of line here, but I just have to ask. I mean, it’s been all over the news, right? The girls back at the office have a pool going to see whose guess is the closest. Do you know where you’re going?”

  “I honestly don’t,” Lexi replied, kind of glad that she didn’t. Besides the anticipation for the wedding, she was actually enjoying the element of surprise about where she was going. The speculation had been out there for weeks, and like everyone else lucky enough to be on the guest list; and at least half the free world; she’d wondered openly about where the wedding would actually take place. As expected, the media had managed to get hold of an invitation; but since it gave away no clues—just telling guests to pack “resort casual” and to bring passports—they were all in the dark, which was exactly where Dylan and Tia wanted them to be. Locations all over the world were being tossed around; and there were numerous pools and contests giving people the chance to win prizes by guessing the actual location. Chit Chat was even promising one lucky winner a trip to the city that was the closest to the guess of the actual venue. Tia and Dylan were having some good laughs watching the media people scramble to try and figure it all out, and were feeling pretty confident that they’d be able to have the intimate wedding they both wanted. “If you had any idea how many times I’ve been asked that question…” she smiled. “I’m glad I don’t know. I’ve had enough of keeping secrets.”

  “I understand,” the driver nodded and he fired the engine, pulling away from Lexi’s building and heading toward the little airport where she’d meet the plane.

  She was looking very forward to getting away for a while; far from the hot mess her life had become over the past few months. A fresh perspective was in order, and hopefully some sun and sand between her toes would be part of the deal. She leaned back in her seat and let her mind run over all that had happened in the past year of her life—the events that changed so many things she could hardly
believe them. This weekend was going to be monumental—not just because her best friend was getting married to the man of a lot of people’s dreams; not just because it was being called the “event of the year;” but also because of what it held for her personally. It would bring some sort of closure to the current chapter of her life; which was very near the end; and allow her to turn a fresh page in her own saga.

  It was hard to put into perspective, actually. At this time last year, she’d been a completely different person with a solid future and a sense of direction. It was almost as if she and Tia had swapped roles—a year ago, Tia was struggling with trying to get her life back together after Nick died. She was going through the motions of a normal life, but wasn’t really living it. Lexi was her support system; making sure she didn’t hide out in her house feeling sorry for herself, dragging her out to the country club, and trying to help her heal. It was Lexi who was planning the wedding of her dreams and Tia, God love her, never once complained about sitting through bridal shows or accompanying her to shop for dresses, flowers, or wedding cakes. Lexi had known it was hard for her, and that, even though Tia was genuinely happy for her best friend, the little trips had to serve as countless reminders of what she herself had lost.

  In the past couple months, it had been Lexi fighting the internal battle—trying to focus on her best friend’s happiness rather than wallowing in self-pity. At times it had been hard—twice she’d found herself at the same restaurant as Ryan and his new girlfriend, and had fought the urge to pay an informative little visit to their table—but she’d managed to hold her head high, give Tia the full support and enthusiasm that their friendship deserved, and plan her own reinvention along the way.

  She had two more months on her lease, and she didn’t plan to renew it. Once the wedding was over she’d have an obscene amount of free time, and she was going to narrow down a location and start looking for jobs and new places to live. She was even considering hanging out her own shingle and starting up a small firm. Although she hadn’t nailed down a final destination, she had decided that she’d go west; somewhere with better weather and fresher air for her new life. It felt good to finally be in a place where she was really looking forward to it.