“Dump Justin.”
My fingernails dug into my palms, and I forced myself to breathe deeply. “It’s not about Justin. It’s about you. I don’t want you. Period.”
“You can’t mean that.”
He grabbed my waist and yanked me against him. Before I could stop him, he pressed his lips against mine. His mouth was hard, his body unyielding. Fury made me gasp, and his tongue wormed its way between my lips.
Without a thought, I clamped my teeth together. I stomped my foot down on his instep. Logan jerked. I released his tongue, shoved him backward, then stepped forward and slapped him across the face as hard as I could.
“I said, NO, Logan. Leave me alone.”
* * * *
The producers hustled Logan into the medical van that always waited by the side of the driveway to check him for injuries. I told them to check his head while they were at it. If he thought this was the way to win me over, they should look for bumps.
Connor assured me that Logan was only pursuing me to boost the ratings, but they’d tell him to tone it down. Between the unwanted kiss and the forged marriage license, I was angry enough to walk out and tell them to forget the whole thing. Unfortunately, Justin and I had made promises: not just to the Network, but to each other.
At the end of the show, my husband would have his dream job. We wouldn’t have to worry about money as much. As long as the Network told Logan to back off, I wouldn’t walk away. Especially not without talking to Justin. This wasn’t my decision to make. The show was his, too, even though he hadn’t appeared on it yet.
When Connor produced a new, second waiver for me to sign, I gave him a withering look. He flushed and put it away. “I’ll, uh, tell them I couldn’t find you.”
Then I bolted for the house to do a video call with Justin. No maze this time. This call wouldn’t be private. The viewers needed to see what was going on, needed to hear our fury. If the Network could be convinced to air any of it.
As I replayed the day’s activities, a variety of emotions washed across his face. By the time I got to the end, his face was red, moving toward purple.
“I’m going to kick Logan’s ass.”
“Make sure you get it on camera. I’d hate for you to get arrested without it boosting our ratings,” I said dryly. He wouldn’t really hit Logan, and we both knew it. But seeing how offended he was on my behalf eased some of my frustration.
“You’re not upset?”
“I am, but I took care of it. He’ll think twice before kissing another woman who said no. Hopefully, so will the viewers.”
“I hope you’re right. I know you can fight your own battles.” He paused, listening to something in the background. “The good news is, this is television gold! Sarah’s already making notes for The Logan cupcake.”
“Lovely. When do you get a flight?”
He shrugged, a gesture that made me have to stop and take a yoga breath to calm down. Didn’t he care at all? “The winds have started to die down, and some planes are taking off, but Sarah and I are on standby. I promised her the first seat we got.”
“Don’t you dare,” I said.
At the same moment, Sarah’s voice sounded from off-camera. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Sorry,” he said. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Not even a little bit. Doesn’t the Network have a plane?” I asked.
“They do. I talked to Janine, but it’s still too windy for small planes to take off.”
“And you believed her?”
“What choice do I have? The Network is powerful, and shady as fuck, but they don’t run air traffic control. I’ll get a flight when I get a flight.”
Awesome. On top of everything else, my fiancé seemed unconcerned about missing our wedding and found the idea of me being forced to marry someone else hilarious. It was all too much. His attitude made me want to scream, but I couldn’t give the Network what they wanted. No screaming, no drama.
“If it’s not in the next four hours or so, don’t bother. There’s no point in you showing up after the Network makes me marry Logan.” I hissed the words at him.
“Jen—”
“I have to go.”
Turning my phone off, I shoved it in a drawer and went outside. This was all too much. The Network wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of making me cry, not this time, but my blood boiled. I needed to get away from the house, from the cameras, until I got myself under control. And I needed my friends.
Outside, the buzz of activity in the backyard stopped me in my tracks. Crew milled around, setting up chairs. A giant white tent stretched as far as I could see. Through the flap, at least two dozen tables were already set up. Logan stood at the center, overseeing everything. He apparently hadn’t had an attack of conscience in the past fifteen minutes and decided to call things off.
From a table by the pool, Rachel beckoned me over. “This place looks amazing. Have you been inside the tent yet?”
“No, but I peeked. Not in the mood to deal with Logan.”
“Did you see the card box?” Birdie asked.
I grinned at her. “A giant fishbowl? Yeah. Whatever. I gave up trying to have any input on this party days ago.”
“A wise choice.”
“I’m just glad I talked them out of having people throw fish food when Justin and I leave for our honeymoon.”
“Yuck.” Rachel wrinkled her nose. “Have they told you yet where you’re going?”
“Nope. But I’m not worried.”
Not because I trusted the Network. Because nowhere they could send us would possibly be worse than the week I’d experienced on the Network’s dime. Anywhere with Justin would be a massive improvement.
Well, it would’ve been a week ago. I didn’t even know if I wanted to go on vacation with the Justin who didn’t care at all about missing our wedding. The wedding we were only doing so he could keep his job. Maybe I should take Ed or Rachel, instead. Birdie couldn’t fly right now.
My suitcase contained mostly skirts, shorts, tank tops, and sandals, three swimsuits, a couple of light sweaters. The clothes should be appropriate anywhere we went in the Northern Hemisphere. Which probably meant they’d booked us on a cruise to Antarctica, but I’d worry about that tomorrow. For all I knew, the Network was planning to send me on a “romantic” getaway with Logan. Or so they thought.
No way would I board a plane with that man, not after everything. They’d have to carry me bound and gagged.
But I couldn’t worry about that yet. One thing at a time, and I still needed to survive the rehearsal dinner. Then, after I refused to marry Logan in front of the cameras, the Network might send me back to Florida with nothing but the expectation of a summons. All dreams of a honeymoon seemed as far away as a trip to Mars. Which would be an awesome surprise, if it wasn’t impossible.
Connor approached to give me the rundown on the ceremony.
“I’m not rehearsing marrying anyone other than Justin,” I said.
“Then address Logan as Justin when you practice. I don’t care.”
The words made me flinch. “I thought you were my friend. Thanks a lot.”
When he spoke again, his voice was low, softer. “Come on, Jen. You and I both know you’re not going to marry Logan tomorrow, even if the Network held a gun to your head. So let’s go out there and put on a show for the viewers. If the show gets good ratings, the Network might be less inclined to sue, whether you get married or not.”
I sighed. Connor was only doing his job, after all, and none of this fiasco was his fault. Also, sticking to the Plan meant playing along with whatever ridiculousness got thrown at me. Until the actual wedding, of course.
“I guess you’re right. And it’s not like I have anything better to do this evening.”
“Thanks for playing along.”
He qu
ickly reviewed what was about to happen: Stand at the back, the music will play, walk slowly, blah blah blah. Ed agreed to escort me. Without Sarah, we didn’t have even numbers for the bridal party, anyway, and it was too late to find a substitute.
And by “too late,” I meant, “Logan’s sister was way too short to wear Sarah’s dress without it dragging on the ground, unless she used stilts.”
At least I wouldn’t have to worry that I’d start crying; my journey down the aisle promised to be the funniest walk any bride ever experienced.
The production assistants ushered all of us to where the ceremony would be held. The milling staff had vanished. Now, rows of white seats faced an archway decorated with…algae? Lovely.
Until seeing the seats, I hadn’t really thought about how many people would be attending this thing. Logan referred to our wedding as the TV event of the century, but when he talked about me being the new trendsetter, I’d figured he was just sucking up to the Network. To my surprise, they had gone all out. There were about twenty-five rows of seats, ten chairs extending on each side of the aisle.
“How many people were invited?” I whispered to Ed.
“About five hundred, I think.” He shrugged. “Plus a bunch of seat fillers.”
“Like at the Oscars?”
“Yeah. The Network spent a lot of money on this thing. They want it to look good.”
“Wow.” This wedding wasn’t about me. It was about all the people who worked so hard to put on a good show for the television audience. The production assistants and camerapeople and staffers who put in a ton of hours for low pay. A pang hit me. I hadn’t thought of all the non-decision makers who would be affected if I stormed out before the wedding.
Logan stood at the end of the aisle, waiting for me. He caught my eyes and smiled. Glaring, I made a cutting gesture with my finger across my throat. I may have to play along with this farce for another day, but I wasn’t about to pretend to enjoy it. Even when the cameras pointed at me.
Janine stood next to Logan, waiting to issue cues. For this rehearsal, Joshua would be filling in for the minister, after he walked in with Rachel. Whatever. It wasn’t worth arguing anymore. At the very least, we’d get some good outtakes from this Dumpster fire.
When Rachel and Joshua were halfway to the front, Janine signaled Birdie and Koji.
From six attendants to four. Only the bridesmaids were as originally planned, and even then, I was missing one. If Sarah and Justin managed to fly in at the last minute, we’d have five. With Ed escorting me, the numbers would be off. Which meant we needed another last-minute replacement. Or I’d have to walk alone, which I no longer wanted.
Janine signaled again, and Ed and I started toward her, using that ridiculously slow wedding walk. It was harder than it looked. “You got a brother nearby?”
“Older brother, yeah. Lives in Palm Springs.”
“Does he own a tux?”
“He can afford to rent a tux. Why?”
“Once Sarah arrives, we’re short a groomsman. My brother can’t get a flight to Los Angeles because of the hurricane backlog, so he and his girlfriend are renting a car and driving home. How do you feel about a last-minute substitution?”
“I feel like that’s that second-best idea you’ve ever had,” Ed said.
I smiled at my mother when we passed. She thought Logan was only filling in for Justin during the rehearsal. Since I didn’t have the slightest intention of actually marrying Logan, there was no reason to upset her. Especially since she would give the Network the drama they so desperately wanted, which I refused to provide. Screw them. Mom caught my eye and mouthed “I love you” at me. I mouthed the words back.
When Ed and I reached the front, he leaned over and kissed my cheek before we turned to Fake Minister Joshua. I forced myself not to let my smile falter when our eyes met.
“Hey, hey, hey!” he said. “J-dawg is in the house! Let’s get this show on the road.”
Do not roll your eyes, do not roll your eyes, I told myself. This was only a rehearsal. What did it matter if our fake minister was an asshole?
Birdie gasped. Rachel shrieked my name.
“Whoa!” Joshua said. “Birdie just pissed herself. W-T-F, you ho?”
Rachel’s voice cut through the cacophony. “No, you idiot. Her water broke. Birdie’s going into labor.”
Chapter 20
Confessions from the Chapel, Friday evening:
J-dawg: That’s *beep* sick, man! I mean, all this crap just came rushin’ out of her. I’m so grossed out right now.
Rachel: It’s not gross, it’s nature. I grew up on a farm. I’ve helped deliver countless animals—one while en route to prom. I’ve got this.
Birdie: No offense. I totally understand that you’ve got a show to make. But I’m a little busy. Could we maybe do this interview after I get to the hospital? Or tomorrow? Tomorrow would be great.
Jen: Awesome. Perfect timing! I would much rather go to the hospital to help Birdie give birth than ‘rehearse’ marrying Logan. But, hey, is there any news about Justin?
A flurry of activity followed the announcement that Birdie had gone into labor. The Network called an ambulance. Rachel put her arm around Birdie, holding her hand and coaching her through the breathing. The two of them started walking, and I ran into the house to grab the bag she left packed in case she needed it.
Over my mom’s strenuous objection, I insisted on riding to the hospital in the ambulance. I didn’t need to “rehearse” the wedding. What was there to know? Walk down the aisle, answer questions when asked, nod, say “I do.” I’d seen at least two hundred romantic comedies with weddings in them, so I was all set. And I had already learned to say my vows to the groom, not the officiant.
Mom followed me around to the front of the house where Rachel and Birdie waited. Rachel pulled out her phone and opened the stopwatch app.
“Girls, help me out,” Mom said. “Babies can take a long time. What if she misses the wedding? Jen, you have to stay here.”
“You can’t miss your own wedding,” I said. “I’ll be back. And if I’m late, it won’t even matter. This is Los Angeles. Nothing ever starts on time. My groom isn’t in the state yet. Not that it matters. The Network can probably find a stand-in.”
“They found one for Justin,” Birdie pointed out. “Why not marry two completely random people?”
I shot her a look. That comment was a bit too close to the reality I didn’t want Mom to hear yet.
Mom persisted. “You’ll be exhausted. You’ll have bags under your eyes.”
“I have a professional makeup team and soft camera filters. I’ll be fine.”
Rachel said, “You’re a bride. All brides are beautiful.”
Logan rounded the corner. He took Mom’s arm and turned her back toward the house. “Why don’t you stand in for Jen while we go over the rest of the arrangements? That way, you can fill her in tomorrow on anything she needs to know.”
“Told you they’d get a stand-in.” Birdie chuckled. “Jen, I can’t wait to see Logan marry your mother tomorrow.”
If Mom heard her, she gave no indication. When Logan steered her back around the corner of the house, I prayed he remembered that I’d kick him in the balls if he told her about the Network’s change of plans before tomorrow. He thought I wanted to tell her myself at the right moment to fuel the drama. Logan didn’t know me at all.
The paramedics bundled Birdie onto a stretcher and put her into the ambulance. Rachel hopped into the back of the truck behind the stretcher and held a hand back to me to help me in.
“Remind me not to vacation with you anymore, Birdie,” Rachel said, her tone light. “This is the second time you’ve left this house in an ambulance.”
“Hey, if I hadn’t gotten injured and had to leave the show, you might not have won!”
Rachel raised her
eyebrows and met Birdie’s eyes. I tried to swallow a giggle, but it escaped into the air.
Birdie broke their staring contest when another contraction hit her. “Okay, fine, I would’ve been out soon, anyway.”
“Do you want me to call anyone for you?” I asked. “Your partner? Your parents?”
“I already called Shannon. My parents?” Her laugh turned into a groan, a weird, unnatural sound. “Don’t call until it’s over. They won’t be able to get a flight out of Nashville with all the people still stranded from the storm, and my mom will text all three of us constantly until morning.”
“She doesn’t have my number,” Rachel said.
“Or mine.”
“Oh, she won’t let that stop her,” Birdie said. “Trust me. Call after the baby’s born.”
“What about Shannon?” I asked.
The contractions were coming faster. A paramedic moved around her, checking vital signs and doing other medical-looking stuff. If only I’d spent my time watching Grey’s Anatomy instead of reality shows, I might’ve had some idea what they were doing. Probably not, though.
“I’ll call,” Rachel said. “Maybe she can catch a flight out.”
“No need.” Birdie spoke through gritted teeth. “I already texted her. She’s staying at a hotel nearby. She’ll meet us at the hospital. You two can catch a cab back to the Fishbowl when we get there.”
“That’ll be about five minutes,” the paramedic said.
My phone beeped with a text from Justin. Ed told me about Birdie. Everything OK? How’s she doing?
We’re almost to the hospital, I replied. Will text an update later. You figure out how to GET HERE ASAP.
The ambulance turned into a parking lot and screeched to a halt before a massive white building. Rachel and I trailed the paramedics out of the ambulance, through the automatic glass doors, and down the halls. In the waiting room, a tall, dark-haired woman jumped to her feet as we entered. For a heartbeat, as her hair swished to obscure her face, I thought I saw Ariana. Then, she smoothed her hair back, and I recognized Shannon from Birdie’s social media pages. Her flawless skin was a couple of shades darker than Ariana’s. She had high cheekbones and big brown eyes, stretched wide with a mixture of concern and excitement.
Reality Wedding Page 19
