Fake Marriage Act

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Fake Marriage Act Page 3

by Lulu Pratt


  “What is this for?” I asked.

  “Oh, for your wedding gown of course,” she said. “We have partnered with La Soie who has the most high-end dresses on the market. They are awaiting your arrival and have already lined up a bunch of dresses they think you would like. You just go and try them on. You have a budget of ten thousand for the outfit and they will also be able to help you with undergarments, shoes and a veil.”

  “Wow, that’s more than my car cost,” I laughed.

  “Welcome to the big leagues,” Evelyn winked. “We thought about just having the dress designed but since everyone hopes this is a match made in reality heaven, we thought it would be nice if you picked out your own gown. Just in case it turns out to be the right fit all the way around.”

  “Oh,” I laughed. “Yeah. I mean, I have a tough time believing that, but hey, anything can happen, right?”

  “That is the perfect mindset,” she smiled. “Now, have fun, and I will talk with you tomorrow. Anything you need you let us know and just relax, you’re in your hometown with anything and everything that you could imagine.”

  “Thanks,” I said quietly, glancing over at my mom.

  The cameraman left the room with Evelyn and I walked over, putting my arms around my mom. I squeezed her tightly, trying to get the nerves in my stomach to calm down. Hopefully they had champagne at this place because I wasn’t ready for all of this.

  “You sure you don’t want to shack up at the fancy hotel they offered me?” I smiled.

  “No,” she laughed. “I like it at home with Ollie and I’d like to be close to my medications.”

  “Of course,” I smiled.

  “You can go to the hotel, though, baby girl. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t,” she said, pulling back.

  “Of course not,” I smiled. “I want to be with you and Ollie, and my things, in my home. I don’t want to be in some fancy hotel room.”

  “Good,” she said, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek.

  “Ladies, are you ready?” Evelyn’s secretary said behind us.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I sighed. “My mom can come, right?”

  “Of course,” she smiled. “We’ve got a car waiting out front for the two of you and lunch is set up at the boutique.”

  We followed her out to the car and jumped inside, watching the film crew loading their van. This would all be caught on camera, and that was unexpected. When she told me that in the office, my mom got a little upset, feeling she wasn’t ready to be photographed, so Evelyn hooked both of us with hair and make-up. I liked seeing my mom be pampered, it was really nice.

  When we got to the dress shop the women were all in a tizzy, running around, showing me a million different dresses, and helping me try on several different ones. My mom really liked the last two that I tried on, so I put those back on and did a little runway walk for her. I tried on the second one and walked back out, trying to ignore the cameraman walking around me.

  “I really like that one,” my mom said. “But I like the other one too. You look so beautiful in both of them.”

  “I don’t know which one to go with,” I sighed, walking up to the mirror.

  I stared at myself in the dress, picturing myself walking down the aisle, adorned in flowers, people oohing and awing as I arrive. I pictured both dresses, but my mind got sidetracked as I imagined the man standing at the front of the aisle. He was faceless, the perfect tux, the perfect body, but faceless. It kind of made my stomach drop.

  “Honey?” my mom said pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Sorry,” I said, turning back around. “I’m pretty sure this is the one.”

  “I love it,” the woman said from the counter.

  I turned back around and looked in the mirror at this gorgeous Badgley Mischka dress that fit me like a glove. It felt like it had been made for me to wear and was pretty much everything I ever wanted in a wedding dress. Part of me felt bad since I’d be wearing it to marry a man for a business deal, but as I stared at it I couldn’t imaging wearing anything else. The three-quarter length sleeves of lace, the way the neck cut sharply down into a V, then the perfect fit through my hips, exploding into an airy train. Who knew you could fall in love with a dress! At least I’d be in love with something when I went down the aisle.

  The saleswoman walked up behind me with a pair of heels. They were bright blue satin with small diamond buckles on the top. She winked at me and held my hand as I slipped my feet into them. I suddenly realized why women spent so much on shoes, they were gorgeous and comfortable, at least for six-inch heels. After that she brought out several veils and I picked the one that best matched the lace on my sleeves. It was made by the same designer, and was thick enough to hide my face, but thin enough for me to not fall down as I walked down the aisle. I turned to my mother and she smiled broadly, covering her mouth and nodding her head. It was a sweet moment, and I realized that with my mother’s health, I should appreciate the experience, because fake reality TV marriage or not, this could be the only wedding dress shopping we’d get.

  I choked back the tears that were burning at the corners of my eyes and turned to the saleswoman nodding my head. Next was the lingerie, which mercifully, the cameraman agreed was best left out of the show. I chose a lovely bra and panty set in white lace. I glimpsed at the price tag and feel a little dizzy. The choice had been made.

  I got undressed and changed back into my sneakers, shorts and T-shirt, then paid for everything with the check the company had given me. I swallowed the last big gulp of my champagne and nodded as they indicated they would be delivering the dress to the studio that afternoon. When we were done the cameras shut off, but my emotions and brain didn’t follow suit.

  We climbed back into the car service provided by the studio and headed to the house. I sat quietly, looking out the window, thinking about everything that was happening. It was all so much, and it was happening at the speed of light. I was excited, but nervous at the same time. I was getting married the following day, to someone that I had never met before. This man could be anyone, and though I didn’t think the studio would pick someone unattractive, that wasn’t what I was nervous about. What if we hated each other? What if he bailed and left me with no money and alone on a reality TV show? I had no idea what he expected of me, if he expected me to play the part of his wife, or if he was really looking at this the same way I was, a business deal with a huge payout at the end. I didn’t know if I was a good enough actress to play someone’s wife twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for six months, even if it was for half a million dollars. It seemed dishonest in a way.

  “Are you okay?” my mother asked. “You look like you are deep in thought.”

  “I’m fine,” I sighed. “I guess I’m just a bit nervous.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” she smiled. “I would be a wreck right now.”

  “If you think about it, I haven’t had a serious boyfriend since you-know-who, and that’s been years.” I gripped my hands in my lap. “We were just kids, so I don’t even know how serious I could actually consider that. Now I’m marrying someone who I’ve never even met. He could be a complete asshole or a puppy kicker or something.”

  “I doubt they would have a puppy kicker on the show,” my mom chuckled. “That would be bad for the ratings, and it is strange that would be one of your worries, but I guess I wouldn’t want to marry someone like that either.”

  “You know what I mean,” I laughed. “I know it’s all worth it in the end, and six months is not that long, but still, it’s really crazy to me how all this happened. When I applied for the reality show I was thinking I would be stuck on an island or marooned on a broken boat with five people. I never thought it would be some twisted version of The Bachelorette, that’s for sure. I thought maybe at worst I would be eating grubs and camping.”

  “Well, it’s definitely a surprise, but I think you’ll be just fine,” she smiled, patting me on the leg. “Unless of course yo
u want to back out, and I would never look down on you if you did. This is a huge move and you are being asked to do something that could possibly end up with no profit and a divorce to boot.”

  “Unfortunately, even if I wanted to back out, I just signed a sixty-page contract that won’t let me do that without having to pay for it, and I just spent six grand on a wedding dress, not to mention the shoes, veil and lingerie,” I laughed. “I’m pretty sure I’m locked into this thing now, but it’s okay because I don’t want to back out. I just keep thinking of it this way, if he turns out to be a complete ass and he dips out getting the half million and leaving me with nothing, then I still haven’t lost everything. My name will be out there, there will be something for my résumé, and it will have been a really interesting experience. Plus, if the show is popular there are bound to be other things that spin off from it that will bring income in. It’s not like I turned down a motion picture to do this thing, I had nothing else in the works.”

  “That’s my girl, always thinking of the bright side,” she smiled. “I am proud of you, no matter how it turns out in the end, and I’m excited to watch you every week on the TV. We are going to be famous in the neighborhood.”

  “Ha! Maybe Mrs. Bowling from down the street will bring over that mac and cheese dish she makes to watch the show,” I laughed.

  “Perks,” Mom laughed. “It’s all about the perks.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Ryan

  When I put the tux on in my hotel room that morning, I actually felt the same nerves I imagined I would feel if I were marrying someone in a normal situation. Then I remembered that it was just for show, and though it was legally binding, it wasn’t real. That calmed me down, for a minute, but as soon as I stepped back up there to the altar, the nerves came flooding back to me. I knew there was no backing out, not anymore. I had signed the contract, filmed my intro, and now I was standing front and center in a room full of strangers, including a huge film crew, about to say ‘I do’ to a girl I’d never met and knew nothing about.

  I looked up as an older woman, maybe in her late fifties, was escorted down the aisle. She was statuesque and absolutely beautiful. She walked up to the front and smiled at me, taking my hand in hers. She leaned up and kissed my cheek, looking up at me with the most striking green eyes I had ever seen.

  “Hello, I’m Carolyn, mother of the bride,” she smiled.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” I replied. “I’m Ryan, Ryan Carson.”

  She nodded and winked, turning and walking to her seat. I wasn’t expecting the mother to be that gorgeous, and I felt that it was a good sign that my bride was going to be beautiful too. At least if she was hot I could get through it by sleeping in the same bed as her every night. Hopefully she wasn’t a horrid witch, something I had been worried about, since I’d been secretly told she was an actress. An actress from LA only brought one kind of woman to my mind — spoiled.

  Everyone chattered quietly around us, and it was strange to me that the audience was a group of people we didn’t know, instead of friends and family. At the same time, it would be hard to keep my friends and family quiet if they knew this was all for some TV show. Suddenly, the room quieted, and the pastor stepped forward, lifting his hands. Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” started to play, and everyone rose from their seats. I stood up straight and took a deep breath as the doors at the back of the hall began to open.

  The light was bright behind the woman standing there, her white dress hugging every single one of her delicious curves. Her face was covered by a thick lace veil, and her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in big curls. Everyone oohed and awed as the cameras spun around her, taking pictures from all directions. In her hands she clutched a bouquet of red roses, with a blue ribbon tied around the stems.

  I squinted, a halo of light cascaded behind her, shadowing the little bit I could make out of her face. I may not have been able to tell what she looked like, but I could see that she had one killer body. She looked taller than I expected but as she stepped I could see heels of matching blue satin, and realized she was petite, and much shorter than me. Hopefully her face would match the rest of her and the journey through this reality show wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it might be.

  When she reached the front of the altar I could smell her lavender perfume and I noticed her hands shaking slightly. I could tell she was just as nervous as I was. I reached forward with a smile and lifted her veil, taken aback by how absolutely stunning she was. She looked up at me with big brown eyes, her long thick eyelashes batting at me. Her lips were pouty, and I instantly felt like I wanted to kiss them. I had never experienced that kind of raw need before, not with any woman. I shook it off, figuring it was the excitement of the moment. Taking her hand, we turned to the pastor.

  “We are gathered here today to join this man, Ryan Carson, with this woman, Mira Dixon, in holy matrimony,” the pastor began, as everyone sat down behind us.

  The pastor went through the ceremony, reading passages specifically selected by the production company. It would have been an amazing wedding for two people who actually loved each other. For me, I just had a challenging time paying attention. My eyes kept being drawn to her perfect lips and flawless skin. When the pastor had finished, and our vows had been said, we turned to each other once more.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” he smiled.

  I stepped forward and leaned down, wrapping my arm around her waist and picking her up. She gasped, and everyone giggled and laughed. I smiled at her, leaning in and whispering.

  “All for the show, right?”

  I pressed my lips hard against hers, shocked by the instantaneous heat and sexual tension that blossomed between us out of nowhere. I could feel her almost relax into me for a moment before pulling back and putting on a fake smile. I set her down on her feet and we turned, waving at the crowd, the cameras zooming in on us. That was it, I was hitched! Married to a woman I really hadn’t met yet, whose name I only learned thirty minutes ago. We were perfect strangers heading into a life of cameras, fake love and an unknown future.

  We continued the fabricated event by heading into the ballroom next door and celebrating with our false friends and family, going through the motions for the camera. We all had a nice dinner, we cut the cake and shared a piece of it while the microphone hovered above our heads, just out of the frame of the camera. This was all so insane to me, like I was a kid playing dress-up with the girls.

  We had our first dance, which was awkward as hell, though I didn’t mind having her pressed against me like that. I didn’t even know what to say, and the best part to me was the fact that there were gifts on the back table with nothing more than empty boxes inside. It was like putting on a play or a murder-mystery where no one was killed, and we were both grieving the loss of our freedom and dignity. She was a beautiful girl, and so far seemed very sweet. She definitely knew how to make the crowd smile. Her dress was gorgeous and gave me a sneak peek of what was underneath. I wondered if we would be consummating this union, or if that was completely out of the question. The one thing I did know was that she made me nervous and I couldn’t quite figure out why.

  “This is really nice,” she said, looking out over the party. “I don’t know a single person, except my mom.”

  “I feel like a doll being made to play dress up,” I chuckled.

  “In really expensive outfits,” she smiled, looking down at the table.

  That was about the extent of our conversation for the entire evening. Both of us were incredibly nervous and neither of us really knew what to say to each other, plus the cameras were constantly in our faces. Luckily, at that moment there was no mic, since we weren’t allowed to talk about the fakeness of the wedding in front of people there. I glanced over at her as she smiled and waved at her mother who was sitting at one of the front tables. I was really glad that she was attractive, and though I didn’t want to sound like a completely shallow bastard, it w
ould have been bothersome to struggle through this with someone I wasn’t remotely attracted to. I figured it wouldn’t be so bad seeing her every day, and I could occupy my time by trying to get in her pants and flirt with her.

  “I think we’re being summoned,” she said, nodding at Evelyn waving from the back door.

  We stood up and walked to the back where they told us we would be leaving. Mira quickly went back to her mother and leaned in, giving her a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. She looked almost worried to leave her mom, which I found odd, yet I also understood this was an incredibly uncomfortable situation. She was probably just nervous to start the next leg of the adventure, or so I called it, and briefly wondered what she thought.

  We jumped into the limo out front and waved at all the ‘friends’ who ran out throwing rice as we pulled off. The car took us outside the city and up a large drive to a gated property. As we moved forward, the house came into sight, and I raised an eyebrow at the huge house we’d apparently be occupying for the next six months. It was a large and beautiful mansion, the lawn immaculate, with a big fountain in the center of the drive. When we got out, I extended my hand, helping Mira up the stairs. For the camera’s sake, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her over the threshold, feeling the heat of her body against me.

  The cameras shut off for a bit, so we could change our clothes upstairs. There were outfits hanging in the bedroom for us, hers a silken nightgown with a matching robe and mine a pair of silk pajamas. I sighed at the sight of them as she went into the bathroom to change, and I changed right there in the large bedroom. When she came out I couldn’t help but stare at her, she looked absolutely beautiful.

  “Shall we have some champagne?” I asked. “I think I saw like nine bottles on the counter downstairs.”

  “Sure,” she smiled.

  The cameras filmed me opening a bottle of champagne, then the both of us gulping down our first glass. After that, they were done filming for the evening. We continued to drink though, and I could tell the bubbly was loosening her up because she became chatty. I on the other hand, didn’t have much to say.

 

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