Reality Wedding

by Laura Heffernan

  I told Justin I’d call him later, overdid the I love you’s solely to annoy my audience, then stalked past Janine without looking at her, so close I almost touched her. She smelled like oranges, which made me smirk.

  “Get Ed,” I said to Connor out the side of my mouth. If anyone could make this horrible trip remotely enjoyable, it was him. I’d need the moral support.

  Logan waited in the backseat of the limo when I slid in. A blinking red light told me cameras already filmed our every move. He started to talk before I finished buckling my seat belt. “I had nothing to do with this, it wasn’t my idea, and I don’t want to marry you.”

  “Great! Then let’s get out of the car.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not that easy,” he said. “I have a contract, too.”

  “So the Network can blackmail both of us into getting married?” I thought about telling Logan the truth, that I was already married, but ever since our kiss by the pool, I wasn’t sure he supported me and Justin as much as I wanted to believe.

  He shrugged. “We agreed to it.”

  “I’m sorry, Logan, but I never agreed to marry you. I agreed to marry Justin, and only Justin. I’m going to find a solution.”

  “Like what?”

  The front door of the car slammed shut. A moment later, the rear door flung open, and Ed poked his head in. He looked from me to Logan and back. “Is this a private wake, or can anyone join in?”

  “Who invited him?” Logan asked.

  “I did. Just keeping my options open,” I lied.

  Gnawing on my thumbnail, I stared out the tinted window as the car pulled away from the Fishbowl. Everything looked darker, just the way I felt. I didn’t care if I ever saw the stupid fishbowl-shaped glass house ever again. Maybe I should run out the back door of City Hall, request a ride-share on my phone, and head to the nearest airport.

  No one spoke as the car traveled down the driveway, turning onto the street. The famous Los Angeles traffic was nowhere to be seen. Just when I wanted to waste three hours traveling less than five miles, the car wove through the streets as if a siren blared on the front.

  For most of the drive, I considered our options. Logan was pretty well connected. He didn’t want to marry me, either. His family had a lot of money. His family also had lawyers and notaries and anything a person could need. Maybe the best solution here wouldn’t take a lot of time or cost a lot of money.

  “Do you know any good artists?” I asked.

  “My ex-girlfriend used to paint. We’re still pretty friendly. Why, you want an engagement portrait?”

  “Shut up,” I said. “Can she do a fake marriage license?”

  Chapter 18

  Adam Reid to Jen Reid:

  Hey, I’m so sorry to do this, but we’re going to miss the wedding. It could be days before they get us a flight out of Atlanta. We’re renting a car and driving home.

  Jen Reid to Adam-Banana:

  :-( We’ll miss you.

  Adam Reid to Jen Reid:

  Congratulations, little sister. Give Justin a fist bump for me when you see him.

  Jen Reid to Justin Taylor:

  This is a nightmare. I need you here.

  Justin Taylor to MRS. Reid:

  I’m doing everything I can. Remember the Plan. I love you. Please don’t marry Logan.

  Jen Reid to Justin Taylor:

  Get here, and I won’t. :-P

  Jen Reid to Justin Taylor:

  Okay, I won’t, either way. But don’t tell the Network. I’m playing along. Stupid Plan.

  After Logan called his ex, we got out of the car. I stood on the sidewalk, taking long, slow deep breaths. It couldn’t be more obvious that I didn’t want to go in. Countless criminals had been sentenced here, countless couples had obtained marriage licenses. How many of those “happy” couples were being blackmailed? How many others secretly committed a felony by being there?

  “It’ll be okay,” Logan said. “Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

  I nodded. Standing on the sidewalk all morning would only give me a sunburn.

  Connor filmed the two of us walking into the LAX Courthouse where the County Register/Recorder’s Office was housed. Ed trailed behind, carrying a spare battery and light for the camera. On the way in, he tripped, knocking the camera out of Connor’s hand and sending it skittering across the floor. When we retrieved it, the lens was cracked.

  “I’m such a klutz!” Ed said with a dramatic sigh. “Now there won’t be any footage of you two getting your marriage license.”

  “Save the theatrics for the confessional,” I said. “No one can hear you.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  Logan glanced at the floor, then back at Ed. “I can’t believe a little girl tripped you with her skateboard.”

  Connor chuckled, shook his head. I normally didn’t advocate for destruction of property, but we needed to explain to the Network why there was no footage of me and Logan obtaining a wedding license I had no intention of getting. Besides, I’d pay for the camera out of the per diem from the show.

  “I’m going to see if I can make this work,” he said. “Ed, come help? You two, don’t get a license until I get back.”

  “No worries,” I said.

  The line at City Hall was oddly long for a weekday. Logan’s ex, who worked nearby, dropped in to chat about the wedding while we waited. She seemed nice enough. After about half an hour, Ed and Connor returned with coffee for everyone. Ed cracked jokes about adding Logan’s ex to the wedding party since Sarah couldn’t make it, while I daydreamed about gagging him. Three hours passed before we emerged, fake documents in hand.

  On the way back, Logan reviewed my remaining schedule. If I weren’t being forced to marry a virtual stranger, everything should be smooth sailing: The rehearsal dinner would be that night, then a car would take me, Rachel, and Birdie to a hotel. In the morning, I had a “romantic” massage with Joshua, which no one knew I’d already given to Rachel. I’d relax alone in my hotel room, thanks.

  After hair and makeup at the hotel, a horse-drawn carriage would bring me back to the Fishbowl with my bridesmaids.

  “Are they sea horses?” Ed asked.

  Logan gave him an odd look. “Uh, no, bro. Regular horses.”

  He swore up and down that no body paint would be involved at any stage of preparations. The actual wedding would be at one o’clock in the afternoon, followed by dancing and partying basically until everyone collapsed from exhaustion. A car would take me and Justin to the airport at eight to catch a flight, leaving the reception to continue without us. I still didn’t know where we were going on our honeymoon, but it didn’t matter anymore. Everything sounded lovely—other than the vegan cake—if only I had the right groom.

  When Logan finished outlining the day, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, sensing the beginnings of a tension headache. I hadn’t told anyone about the pact Justin and I made, about the prenuptial agreement allowing a bit of kissing if necessary, about the fact that we were already married, or about the kiss near the pool. Silly me, I’d expected to have Justin here as an ally, so there was no need to bring anyone else in on our secret. But it was time to have a long talk with Ed after we got back to the Fishbowl. He knew I’d rather die than marry Logan, but not the rest of it.

  Hiding my phone in the shadow between my leg and the wall of the car, I sent a text. We need to talk. Meet me in the maze ten minutes after we get back?

  His phone beeped. A moment later, Ed caught my eye and nodded, not bothering to send a reply. Fixated on his own phone, Logan ignored us.

  The minute the car pulled into the driveway, I found Janine and gave her the fake marriage certificate, my heart pounding. It looked like the pictures of California marriage certificates I’d found on Google, but what if she somehow knew it was fake?

  I
needn’t have worried. She barely glanced at the paper before shoving it toward one of the PAs and sending Logan on a mission to find attendant gifts for my bridesmaids. Rachel and Birdie were at the pool with Joshua and Koji. I should join them, spend some time with the whole wedding party. Learn Koji’s last name. How sad was it that I didn’t even know one of my groomsmen at all? And that my groom didn’t know him, either?

  Justin’s roommate and I weren’t exactly besties, but at least if Aaron had shown up, I’d know who he was. And his last name.

  But this wasn’t my wedding, not really. It belonged to the Network. I was only here to play the role of besieged bride, struggling against the stress of planning a massive wedding that I was barely involved in.

  I slipped out the front door, around the side of the house, and down to the maze without anyone paying any attention to me. In the center of the maze, I found Ed, tapping away on his phone. “Are you about to tell me something I’m going to have to keep a secret from Connor?”

  “No,” I said. “But you can’t tell anyone else. Not even Birdie or Rachel.”

  Quickly, I filled him in on everything that happened from the moment Connor called me the previous Wednesday. I couldn’t believe it had been less than ten days. He listened without injecting any jokes, which told me he understood the severity of the situation. He didn’t stop his mouth from dropping open, but he didn’t interrupt.

  When I finished, he let out a low whistle. “Wow.”

  “Yup.”

  “I don’t even know what to say. Is Logan a good kisser?”

  “Horrible. It was super awkward.”

  “Oh, right, sure,” he said. “Don’t let me live vicariously.”

  “I’m sure Connor is a better kisser. He’d have to be.”

  “He’s got many skills.” Ed grinned at me. “At least now I understand why you were so chill about letting J-dawg back in. Oh, and hey, congratulations!”

  We snuck out the secret maze exit and started back to the house. Halfway there, Logan jogged over to meet us.

  “What’s wrong? Is there a problem with the gifts?”

  “I’m not going to get gifts. The gifts were bought weeks ago. I know you wanted me out of the way.”

  “Oh. Then why didn’t you leave?” I didn’t realize how rude the words sounded until they were out of my mouth, but after the week I’d had…whatever. I couldn’t even.

  “Jen, we need to talk,” he said, breathing hard.

  “No, we don’t,” I said.

  Ed glanced from Logan to me and back again. “Guys, I’m heading up to the house to start dinner. I’ll let you talk alone.”

  When he vanished over the hill leading back to the house, Logan said, “C’mon, Jen. Are you really going to marry Justin?”

  “Of course I am. I love Justin. I’d marry him a dozen times.” Well, at least twice, anyway. In the same month, if necessary. “You don’t want to marry me, anyway.”

  “I lied,” he said. My stomach lurched at his words. “You can’t tell me that kiss didn’t mean anything.”

  “It means I thought you were drowning,” I said. “Any lifeguard or teenage babysitter would’ve done the same thing.”

  “Come on, Jen, it was more than that and you know it.”

  I turned away, and he grabbed my arm. He pulled me against his chest, and I put my hands between us. He smelled good, but I didn’t want him touching me. “Stop. You are being creepy.”

  Surprised, he released me.

  I shoved against his chest, putting space between us. “You told me how you felt. Okay, fine. You have a right to do that. I told you how I feel. You need to respect my wishes. You don’t have a right to argue until I change my mind. I’m in love with Justin, and I’m going to marry him.”

  “Actually, you’re going to marry me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I played along and got a fake marriage license, but I’m not going to stand on national television and vow to love, honor, and obey you.” I hadn’t actually agreed to obey Justin, either, but that was beside the point. “It wouldn’t even be legal.”

  Logan’s grin widened, making him look like a wolf. “Yes, it would. That’s not a fake marriage certificate.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “My ex-girlfriend’s not an artist. That girl wasn’t even an ex. One of my dad’s friends has a daughter who works at the clerk’s office. She snuck a real certificate out and brought it to me. That’s who you met.”

  “That’s not funny, Logan.”

  “I’m not joking.” He stepped closer, and I moved away. “Saturday night, you and I are getting married. And if you refuse, the Network will sue you, and there’s not a damn thing your precious Justin can do to stop it from three thousand miles away.”

  Chapter 19

  More confessions from the Chapel, Friday:

  Jen: Seriously, I should’ve seen that coming. But, I thought Logan was my friend. I should’ve known he was working for the Network the whole time.

  Logan: Of course I’m working for the Network! Jen knew that—I told her up front I’m a paid wedding planner. She knows I have another series with them. It’s not my fault that she never asked for the full extent of my duties. And it doesn’t matter. Jen’s going to marry me, and then my show gets renewed. Who knows? Maybe we’ll do a joint series: Jen and Logan: Love at First ‘Action’.

  Birdie: Man, I miss all the good stuff. I hate having to nap like fourteen times a day.

  J-dawg: Bro, this is EPIC! I’m so peanut butter and jelly right now that I never thought of something like this. I am handing over my crown. Logan is by far the best reality show villain I’ve ever seen. Double fist bump!

  Birdie: His crown? His joker mask, more like it.

  Having already dropped his bombshell, Logan smiled sweetly at me. My hand itched to slap that smug look off his face. I stared at him in horror, with no idea what to say.

  None of this would’ve happened if Justin had gotten on the plane with me in Miami. If we’d flown out here together. If we’d had more notice before we needed to start filming, so he could get the days off rather than having to wrap up a trial. If Amanda and Braden had gone through with their wedding. Why did they get to call things off when we didn’t?

  Silently, I cursed the lawyers who wrote that contract, the producers, Justin’s boss, Logan, me, and my husband. We knew better. Of course we knew better. Reality TV thrives on drama. If the participants don’t create enough of it, the show makes bad things happen. At that point, I wouldn’t have put it past them to have created a hurricane so Justin couldn’t fly out of Florida. We were lucky they didn’t wait for his plane to take flight and shoot it down over the Gulf of Mexico to make things more interesting. They could have added an entire survivalist slant to the show. Dropped us off in the Las Vegas desert with nothing but a compass and called it Will They Survive Until the Wedding?

  I didn’t trust myself to speak, but I needed to get away from Logan before I broke down completely. I moved around him, intending to race for the front door once I had an open path. He stopped me before I made it three steps, placing a hand on my arm that almost made me trip over my own feet. Just what I needed: to face-plant on national television after everything. Especially when I’d so carefully avoided walking into the glass walls all week.

  “What are you doing?” I shook my arm free, but stopped walking. “In case you missed the clue of me walking away, I’m not in the mood to chat.”

  “C’mon, Jen. We need to talk. We can do it here, or we can do it inside, in front of everyone.”

  Rolling my eyes, I gestured vaguely around the grounds. “This whole thing is being filmed. There’s nowhere we can talk privately, even if I wanted to.” No way would I tell him about the privacy inside the maze.

  “You know what I mean. Rachel and Birdie and J-dawg and Ko
ji don’t need to see this until it airs.”

  He’d said the magic words. The only thing I wanted less than to have this conversation was to do it with Joshua’s commentary. I crossed my arms. “Fine. You talk. I’ll stand here.”

  He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry that you’re pissed. I did what needed to be done for the show.”

  His body hulked over mine, which didn’t improve my attitude toward him. There was no need for him to intimidate me with his muscles, even if he intended to keep the people in the house from overhearing. Stepping backward, I put a hand between us, forcing him to keep his distance.

  “For my show, or yours? Why do you even want to marry me? You could have any one of a thousand women. Hell, you have had a thousand women.”

  “Closer to two. But my past doesn’t matter. I’m trying to repair my image. We could make it work,” he said. “A simple, pretty lie for the cameras. A quiet divorce later. Or not, if things go well. We’ve got this great chemistry. You might like being married to me. It’s like an arranged marriage.”

  “It’s nothing like an arranged marriage. We know each other, and at the moment, I intensely dislike you. I’m in love with Justin.” Not to mention that the two of us were already legally married. “And there’s nothing between us. You’re a stand-in until Justin gets here. Even if I went ahead with the wedding, which I won’t, you’d be a substitute for what I really want. That’s not fair to either of us.”

  “That hurts. I thought we were friends.”

  “So did I, until you tricked me. Now we’re not friends. We’re not anything.”

  “Is that what you’re telling yourself?” His voice was husky, thick. “Come on, you know we’ve got a connection. We’ve got this heat.”

  “That energy you’re feeling between us? It’s called anger. I’m so pissed right now, you have no idea,” I said, speaking through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to be your friend. Stop turning this into something it’s not. There is nothing between us, and there never can be.”