by Rachel Astor
“Really? Man, maybe on the outside, but seriously, I’m full of mush and gush and rainbows and unicorns on the inside.”
“Shut up,” I said, shoving her a little. “You are not. You’re just emotional because of all the hormones.”
“Well, I wish it would stop. It’s really annoying. I’m like that five-year-old princess I hated in kindergarten.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “There you are. I thought I lost you for good.”
She promptly punched me in the arm.
I couldn’t be happier.
“So, maybe you should talk to Dave again,” I suggested.
Jen gave me the glares. “You may have convinced me that the whole situation isn’t as awful as I first thought, but that does not mean I am ready to talk to him yet.”
I nodded once. “Fair enough. Just let me call Jake and then we can have a girl’s night. I left him a message that you were in trouble, so I should let him know everything’s okay.”
“Josie, thanks for rushing over here like this and talking me down off a ledge, but seriously, everything is not okay right now.” She sighed, her eyes welling up again.
“I know,” I said, sitting beside her again. “But it will be, I promise.”
She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Seriously, thanks for being here. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
I squeezed her hand and got up to call Jake.
I got his answering machine. Again.
God, it seemed like forever since I’d talked to him. I mean, I got his machine a lot, but he always called me back and it had been, like, three days since I’d talked to him.
My stomach started to churn. I mean, it was churning already, hating what my roommate was going through, but now the sick feeling was starting to feel a little more personal.
Something was wrong.
“So how’s the book coming?” Jen asked when I came back into the room.
It was obvious she was more than ready to change the subject and think about something else for a while. Not that she probably could.
I sighed. “Not so good. I’ve barely got anything written.”
“What?!” she said, nearly spitting out the water she’d just taken a sip of.
Sadly, I realized wine was probably out of the question for the evening. And it was really too bad too, since I could have so gone for a glass right then. Like, a really big glass.
“Ugh, I know. It’s awful. It’s just that there hasn’t really been any time to get anything done.”
“Josie! You’ve had almost two and a half months. And the deadline was three months!”
“I know, I know, but it’s just that at first there was really nothing to write about, I mean, I didn’t even know the guy. And then there was one drama after the other, and then I thought Leo was like, all into me or whatever, and then there was all the adrenaline rush stuff, which I think I have to do again tomorrow, and….”
“Whoa. Hold up! Did you just say he was all into you or whatever?”
I shrugged. “I know, it’s stupid. I mean, come on, what was I thinking, that a Prince would ever think of me that way, right?” I chuckled what was perhaps the dorkiest chuckle of all time.
“Says the girl who is dating the world’s most famous movie star,” Jen said, and actually had the nerve to roll her eyes.
“Which has to be a total fluke.” I said, quickly adding, “not that I’m complaining or anything, I’m really, really lucky.”
“Josie, the Prince could be into you. I mean, you’re adorable.”
I snorted. Which was decidedly not adorable. “Um, thanks, but really, we need to get back to real life here. I wasted like, two weeks worrying about the flirting when I should have been writing.”
“Okay, so, let’s break this down. How much time do you have left?”
“A week and a half.”
A look of panic flashed over her face. I did my best to ignore it. “Okay… and how much do you have written.”
I paused, wondering if I should lie. “Um, like ten pages.”
“Ten pages?! What the hell Josie? You’re supposed to write a whole book!”
I buried my head in my hands. “I know,” I whined. “But I just can’t seem to get started. I mean, Leo wants to go gallivanting all over the friggin’ UK doing stupid, life-threatening stuff, and he knows I need time to write, but he doesn’t seem to care if this book is any good or not. I mean, he just wants to make sure he ends up looking like a big hero who bungee jumps and goes deep sea diving for a living.” I threw my hand up, defeated.
And I really did feel defeated. I mean, if the past couple weeks of death-defying stunts hadn’t worn me down, then the stress of the book certainly had.
And all I had to show for it all was ten measly pages of not even very good rough draft of a stinkin’ biography. And even that was mostly about my own experiences doing the kamikaze crap, it wasn’t even really about Leo.
“Aren’t we a fabulous pair?”
Jen laughed. “At least we have our health.”
I raised my eyebrows in half-hearted agreement.
“Maybe we just need to clear our heads. Go for a walk or something.”
I shrugged. “Or maybe I need to get my ass in gear and write some of this damned book.” I smiled sheepishly.
She nodded. “Probably a good idea. Look, I’m gonna get out of your hair for a while, I actually do think a walk in a beautiful foreign city might do wonders for me. You stay here, it’ll be nice and quiet.”
“Jen, I don’t want to kick you out of your own hotel room.”
She rolled her eyes. “One of these days Jose, you’re going to realize that it’s okay for other people to do nice things for you too. It doesn’t always have to be the other way around.”
I smiled. Was I really like that? Had I become so jaded that I couldn’t even let my friends do nice things for me? “In that case, stay out as long as you like?” I said, smiling.
She punched me in the arm again and we both cracked up in giggles.
But as soon as the door shut behind her, I felt like my entire world was crashing in on me. I mean, I should be thankful that I wasn’t having to make a huge life decision like Jen had to, but still, I was in so far over my head with this bloody book, I couldn’t even see light anymore. Not to mention my boyfriend hadn’t called in days. We had never gone this long without talking. Sure, he might just be held up working late nights or whatever, but even then, he always called to let me know how things were going.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was definitely wrong.
I tried his cell again, but, as expected, no answer.
There was nothing left to do but dig deep and write like I’d never written before.
~ 16 ~
And I did. I wrote. Like really wrote.
My hands flew over the keyboard, barely keeping up with my thoughts.
I wrote nearly twenty-five pages before the door to the suite opened again and Jen walked in, her nose pink from the chill outside.
I beamed a smile at her. “I’ve written so much, you won’t believe it.”
But she didn’t smile back. In fact, she looked somewhat terrified.
“What is it? Did you see Dave?”
She shook her head. I sincerely did not like the way she looked all pale, and was obviously having a bit of difficulty figuring out what to say.
Then I saw them.
A pile of tabloids in Jen’s hand. She was fidgeting with them, almost like she was wrestling with whether she should show me or not.
“Oh shit,” was all I could say.
Jen just nodded.
I sighed. So much for my good mood, thinking I’d actually accomplished something. One step forward, two steps back.
Jen took off her coat slowly, careful to keep the covers of the papers hidden from my view.
I sat at the large dining table, which was big enough to seat six, but only had two chairs.
Jen sat in the other on
e.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. You’ve talked to Jake lately, right?”
My blood ran cold. “Um, sort of.”
“Sort of?”
I rubbed my forehead. “I haven’t talked to him in three days.”
I swear, I didn’t think it was possible, but she got even paler.
“Okay, well, that could be nothing,” she said, but I knew she didn’t really believe it.
“God, how many am I in?”
The stack looked like it was ten papers high.
“Um. A few,” Jen said, shuffling them around like a deck of cards.
It was like she was putting them in some sort of order or something.
“Just don’t panic,” Jen said, though it was clear she was panicking, so what were the chances I wouldn’t? “But things seem to have gotten a little… sticky.”
“Just show me,” I said, not sure how much longer I could take the suspense. I mean, usually I liked surprises, but over the past six months or so, surprises seemed to come at a seriously high price.
“Okay, well, most of them are actually about Leo, you know, and his new girl du jour.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right.”
“And you look totally badass in most of them. Bungee jumping,” she said, setting down a magazine, “windsurfing—you look totally hot in a bikini by the way—,” she set down another, “and, well, you get the picture.”
I had to admit, I did look totally badass in most of them. Not that anyone would ever know it was me. In fact, none of them even seemed to realize it was the same girl in all the pictures. They kept saying what a playboy Leo was being lately.
I couldn’t help but wonder if that was his plan all along. I mean, it was his idea for all the disguises. Well, the fact that I wasn’t allowed to be seen with him obviously, but still. He did come off looking rather rosy to the papers. If you didn’t count the total fear in his eyes most of the time, that is.
Of course, the papers were mostly just saying he was brooding or whatever, but I knew fear when I saw it.
“Okay, well this isn’t so bad.”
“No,” Jen said. “This isn’t.” She motioned to the table. “But this might be.” She held a paper to her chest, hiding it.
My heart started beating faster and that familiar gurgling of the guts reared its ugly head.
“Do you know someone named Missy?”
I skimmed through my mental Rolodex, sure I must know a Missy from somewhere. And then it hit me. Kind of like a bus.
“Missy from the airplane, Missy?”
“Crap,” Jen said, and set the paper down. “So she is real.”
Now that I saw the pictures side-by-side, I realized it was a miracle no one had figured it out until Missy. I mean Missy? Who would have thought in a million years that she would be the one to crack the mystery of the Prince’s love interests?
You know, unless you were writing a biography about the guy, which, technically, I was not allowed to disclose.
I tried to look away, really I did, but the headline was like being slapped in the face. Repeatedly.
LEO’S NEW LOVE: BRIDESMAID IN DISGUISE GETS AROUND
Oh. My. God.
“I KNOW IT’S HER,” AIRLINE PASSENGER MISSY MITCHELL SAID, IN AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH US. “I SAW HER OPEN THAT NECKLACE WHEN SHE GOT ON THE PLANE. SHE WENT ON AND ON ABOUT HOW IT WAS FROM JAKE HALL. AND NOW SHE’S WEARING IT ALL OVER ENGLAND, GALAVANTING WITH THAT PRINCE. IT’S DISGRACEFUL.”
My jaw dropped reading the quote from Missy. The same woman who was so excited just to be meeting someone famous, was now throwing me totally under the bus.
“SHE WAS ALL, ‘OH IT’S CUSTOM MADE. ONE OF A KIND.’ THAT’S HOW I KNEW THIS WAS THAT MCMASTER THE DISASTER FOR SURE.”
“You know, I knew there was a reason I didn’t like this girl,” was pretty much all I could say.
I mean, there was a ton to say, but somehow the words wouldn’t come to me. “When did this paper come out?” I asked.
“Three days ago,” Jen answered.
“Of course.”
It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if the picture they had on the cover wasn’t of me and Leo, looking like we were getting cozy while wind surfing. God, I hadn’t even wanted to go with him on the damned thing, I was quite happy with the instructor I had, but Leo insisted we take the last ride of the day together so I could get a sense of what Leo was feeling while surfing. Of course he had mostly been feeling fear, just like with everything else, but unfortunately, he was doing a little feeling of something else. Namely me.
Seriously, how do the photogs catch those split second moments where it looks like he’s grabbing my butt, and somehow I end up looking like I’m enjoying it, even though I distinctly remembered slapping his hand away immediately and putting an end to the ride right then and there.
But of course that’s the picture they use for the whole world to see—including Jake—even though the photographer had to have seen how the whole thing really went down.
Jen finally set the last tabloid down in front of me.
ALL BETS OFF: BRIDESMAID SNEAKS AROUND BEHIND JAKE’S BACK
I let out a frustrated, growly yell.
“God, how does this always happen?”
Jen put her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry Josie.”
I looked at her. Here I was whining and moaning about another stupid fake tabloid story when she was actually having a real crisis. I mean, the paper could end up turning into a real crisis if it was actually the reason Jake hadn’t called me back, but even still, Jen’s situation was much more serious than mine.
And I was the one sitting there feeling sorry for myself with the poor girl right there in front of me.
She was consoling me, for Pete’s sake.
I took a deep breath. “You know what, it’s no big deal. I mean, Miranda’s head is going to explode of course. But I’m sure Jake will have to listen to reason, right?”
Jen nodded, though it didn’t look as confident as I had hoped. “Yeah, he’ll come around, I’m sure of it.”
If he’ll let me talk to him, was all I could think. How in the heck was I supposed to tell him what really went down if I didn’t get a chance to even try?
But I couldn’t say any of that. I was supposed to be helping Jen tonight, and I’d already been selfish for way too long.
We ate the rest of our ice cream (an entire container each) and talked about what Jen was thinking in terms of the baby, what she planned to do. She wasn’t sure, of course, but she was definitely leaning toward keeping it and we even made some plans about what we might do to the apartment when the time came.
I was even starting to get used to the idea that I might be helping raise a baby soon, which, if you would have told me six weeks ago I’d be doing in the near future, I might have laughed my ass off.
What a difference a couple months can make. What a few weeks can make.
And actually, even what a few hours can make.
I’d been blissfully happy an hour ago. Sure, I was stressed about the book, but I at least had a great boyfriend who could pick me up if I fell, but now… God, who even knew.
After we were all talked out, we watched a chick flick—a very much not starring Jake Hall chick flick—both trying to hide the fact that we were checking our phones approximately every five seconds.
Neither of them rang all night.
We both fell asleep right there on the sectional amongst a pile of Cheetos crumbs, Skittles wrappers, and chocolate cookie bags.
~~~
My teeth woke me up the next morning. Okay, not exactly my teeth, but the vibrating that was making my teeth tickle.
Apparently, I’d fallen asleep on my cell phone.
I bolted up, praying to see Jake’s number on the phone.
No such luck.
It was Leo.
“Hello?”
“Where are you? I’ve got a big day lined up.”
/> I rolled my eyes. As if. “I really don’t think that’s such a good idea. Have you seen the papers lately?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So? Cripes Leo, they found out who I am. I can’t be seen with you now. Miranda’s probably already got a lawyer working on getting me out.”
“There’s no way,” Leo said. “The book is due soon and there’s no way we can get a replacement writer now. There’s no choice but to keep you on. Besides, I want you.”
I decided to ignore the intent behind that last little remark and keep things professional. “Leo, do you even realize what this has all done to me personally?”
I could practically hear him shrugging over the phone. “What? I would think you’d like to be in the papers.”
“Are you nuts?! Of course I don’t like to be in the papers. Do you like it when they make up a whole bunch of crap about your life?”
Silence.
Of course there was silence. I scoffed. “You probably do like when they made up a bunch of crap about you, since, you always came out smelling like roses and you don’t have to actually do any real living! No, you’re a Royal, so they’ve practically turned you into this country’s premiere hero. God, you’re practically afraid of your own friggin’ shadow but you’re made out to be some sort of adrenaline-fused wild man or something. Seriously, was there anything that could be further from the truth?”
Leo said nothing for a long time and I wished nothing more than to take it all back.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, surprised that he hadn’t hung up.
“No, you’re right. I just thought you might understand me a little.” He sighed. “But I guess you understand a little too well. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”
“Look Leo, it’s not that,” I said. “I just… God, I don’t know. This whole situation is just so confusing. You’re great, you really are, but I just don’t feel the same…”
“I know,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ve known that all along. I think I was just… trying to make more of a situation than was really there. I mean, sometimes I just get so… lonely, and you were there and I kind of felt like I knew the real you from your diary.”
