by Lauren Layne
Before I can overthink what it means that he’s let me see a part of his life that he normally keeps private, I’m marching toward my doom. Or at least it feels like that.
Gage and I walk side by side toward the front door, and I make a fist to keep from reaching for his hand.
Before he opens the door, he turns back to me, his eyes drifting over my face. “They’ll think it’s odd. That we ran away together and then I send you home the next ceremony.”
I wave this away. “Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it. They ask you afterward why you send the women home, right? Just say that while you and I clicked at first, after spending more time together, it became increasingly apparent that we weren’t compatible.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “So. Lie?”
“Sort of. I guess it’s lucky you’re a talented actor, right?”
Gage exhales. “Sure. Right.”
Neither of us moves to open the door, and I have the fierce urge to throw my arms around him and beg him to whisk me away to someplace where we can hide out as Mr. and Mrs. Belvedere forever.
Instead, he reaches out and opens the door.
I thought I was prepared.
But what awaits us is so much worse than I ever expected.
Ellie
Gage was correct. The man we saw in the driveway did indeed go to gather the camera crew.
And the producers.
And Adam.
And the rest of the women.
There’s not a single smile in the bunch.
Unsurprisingly, it’s Adam who steps forward. He’s polished as ever in a blue dress shirt and khakis, but his expression is carefully arranged into “displeased principal” instead of his usual “country club pimp.”
“Ellie. Gage.” Adam’s voice is somber. “You’re aware that by running off, you’ve betrayed the trust of the other contestants?”
The other contestants? Really? That’s their biggest concern? Not that we were in breach of contract, or completely derailed the entire filming schedule?
Then I remember…the cameras. This is all for the cameras, and the viewers at home don’t give a crap about contracts or filming schedules; they want catfights and drama and romance.
I glance to my right, where the other women have been arranged awkwardly in a line, their slightly-less-perfect-than-usual makeup showing that they scrambled the second they learned Gage and I were back.
Paisley catches my eye and gives me a quick smile, but it’s strained and a little bit worried. Uh-oh.
“Ladies, I apologize for my behavior,” Gage says from beside me. “Despite being an actor, I’m unaccustomed to the camera catching every moment of my personal life, as I’m sure all of you are. I acted impulsively in an effort to get a moment alone.”
“But you weren’t alone,” Aurora points out. “You took her.”
Gage shrugs as though this is an insignificant detail. “Ellie happened to be the one with me at the time.”
“So if someone else was with you during that surfing lesson, you’d have run away with them?” Ivy asks.
There’s a sweet hopefulness in her tone that makes my stomach churn. For the first time, it occurs to me that some of these women might care about Gage—or at least think they do.
What I did—what we did—was selfish. Wonderful, but selfish.
I swallow and prepare to issue an apology of my own, but before I can get a word out, Raven steps forward to stand beside Adam, hands clasped behind her back.
The lead producer is always around, so I’m not surprised to see her. Nor am I surprised by her scowl. But I am surprised when the cameras shift to focus on her. Raven has always been on the other side of the camera, relying on Adam to be the front person.
This can’t be good.
“Gage. Ellie. It goes without saying that we’re disappointed you felt you had to run away to spend time together, but of course we understand that the path to love can lead us to make rash, irresponsible decisions.”
“You do?” I ask in puzzlement. This seems…odd.
“I do,” she says with a tight smile. “What we at Jilted can’t condone, however, is this.”
She pulls her hands from behind her back and holds up an iPhone. I recognize the case instantly. It’s the custom High Tee branded case Marjorie ordered for both of us the day we launched.
It’s my phone. My very forbidden, against-the-rules phone.
I feel Gage stiffen beside me.
“One of the other women found this under your pillow, Ellie. Is it yours?”
I nod. No point in denying it.
Raven sighs, although I suspect it’s precisely the answer she wanted. “Having a phone is in direct violation of the Jilted house rules. I’m afraid we have no choice but to ask you to leave, Ellie.”
I hear a few gasps of surprise from the line of women. I have no idea if the surprise is real or for the benefit of the camera, but I’m too numb to feel much more than resignation.
I can’t figure out if I’m relieved to have the clean break dropped in my lap or devastated because it means this thing with me and Gage is really and truly over. One thing I am sure of is that they’re hoping for a scene. It’s evident in everyone’s expression, in the way the camera guy’s even more up in my face than usual.
I feel Gage shift almost imperceptibly closer to me in a silent show of support, and it’s exactly what I need.
I give the room my best smile. “I understand completely. I’ll go get packed.”
This time the women’s gasps are real, and both Raven and Adam look temporarily nonplussed. This obviously isn’t the reaction they were expecting from the woman who just came home from spending the night with the contestant. They were expecting dramatic protests from the front-runner, not quiet acceptance.
I can’t bring myself to look at Gage, so instead I take a step toward the stairs.
“Wait,” Raven says sharply. “You know, Adam, it’s just occurred to me…”
I nearly smile when my gaze catches on Paisley rolling her eyes. Just occurred to me my ass…nothing about this is spontaneous, and we all know it.
“Gage never used his veto in that first episode,” Raven is saying.
Adam’s eyes go dramatically wide, and this time it’s me who rolls my eyes. Oh, come on. This is getting ridiculous.
“You’re right,” Adam says solemnly, turning to Gage. “Gage, perhaps it was fortuitous that you didn’t use that early veto to save one of the women from the first round. It means you have one available to you now to save Ellie. If you want.”
What?
My head whips instinctively toward Gage, who’s gone perfectly still.
He’s staring at Adam and Raven, although other than the sudden tension in his jaw that I suspect only I recognize, he doesn’t react.
“It’s your decision, Gage,” Adam adds unnecessarily.
Slowly Gage turns to face me.
You know how in movies, right before someone dies, their life flashes before their eyes in a montage? That’s a bit what it feels like in the moment when Gage’s eyes meet mine. I remember our first meeting, when Gage the actor fed me that bullshit line about wanting to meet his one true love. I remember telling him his eyes look like guacamole. I remember him buying a women’s skirt from a gift shop so I wouldn’t be embarrassed. I remember him getting weirdly passionate about The Godfather. I remember the feel of his hands on my face right before he kissed me, and the butterflies when he did kiss me.
The warmth in his expression as we stare at each other in silent communication makes my breath catch.
His question in the car reprises and passes silently between us.
What if you stayed?
If I stay…
My heart sinks slightly. If I stay, Gage’s and my story will never be more than the debut season of Jilted. If I win (and that’s a big if) and if he marries me (and that’s an even bigger if), I’ll always be that woman he married for the sake of a TV show.
And do I ev
en want that? To get married like this? I can’t. I just can’t. I care about him too much to run us to the ground like this.
Please don’t, I beg with my eyes. Please let me go.
A stab of pain flashes across his face, but it’s replaced with a careless smile moments later. “Nah. No veto.”
Silence follows his statement, the shock in the room palpable. He gives me the slightest wink, and that nearly kills me, because I know that he chose not to exercise his veto for me. He cares more about what I want than what he wants, and…
Damn it. I need to get out of here before I fall all the way in love with this guy.
I walk toward him, grab the front of his T-shirt, and pull his face down to mine for a long kiss.
He goes still for a moment, then I feel him smile, his palm coming up to cup the back of my head as he kisses me back, soft and sweet.
I pull back and smile up at him. “I’ll never forget you, avocado eyes.”
He laughs softly. “Damn straight.”
I lift on my toes to press my lips to his ears. “Keep Paisley around as your new spy. She’ll take care of you.”
Then I kiss his cheek. And turn away.
“Watch The Godfather!” he calls after me.
I lift my hand in acknowledgment, ignoring the way everyone stares at us in clear bafflement as to what’s going on.
A few more steps and I’m out of the room. Away from the cameras.
Away from Gage.
I’m going home.
I sprint up the stairs to my room. Closing the door, I wait for the relief.
It never comes.
Invitation Ceremony #10
SIX WEEKS LATER, DURING THE AIRING OF EPISODE 10 OF JILTED
Dear Aurora—
You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Gage Barrett and his future bride on Saturday, May 21, at two o’clock in the afternoon. Dinner and dancing to follow.
*
The Runaway Groom on why he jilted Aurora: “I’m looking for someone who’s in it for the long haul, and I just wasn’t convinced Aurora would feel the same about me if I developed a dad bod.”
*
Text message from Ellie to Gage: Dad bod? Really?
Gage to Ellie: I knew it. You couldn’t resist watching the episode, even after you got eliminated.
Ellie to Gage: I can’t help it. It’s like a horrible train wreck. How’s Dubai?
Gage to Ellie: Hot. How’s business? Meeting at that L.A. boutique go well?
Ellie to Gage: Yeah, the girl placed a huge order. Better than I could have expected, although mostly she just wanted to know if you were a good kisser.
Gage to Ellie: And you said…?
Ellie to Gage: 6 out of 10.
Gage to Ellie: Take it back, Wright.
Ellie to Gage: Good night, Hollywood.
Invitation Ceremony #11
SEVEN WEEKS LATER, DURING THE AIRING OF EPISODE 11 OF JILTED
Dear Sidney—
You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Gage Barrett and his future bride on Saturday, May 21, at two o’clock in the afternoon. Dinner and dancing to follow.
*
The Runaway Groom on why he jilted Sidney: “She’s a great girl, but I don’t think she and I ever stood a chance the second she learned I ate red meat and didn’t drink organic bourbon.”
*
Text message from Ellie to Gage: I liked Sidney.
Gage to Ellie: Her laugh bothered me. A lot. I couldn’t listen to it for the rest of my life.
Ellie to Gage: Yeah, because celebrity marriages really last for the long haul. And you told Adam she was a great girl.
Gage to Ellie: She is. A great girl…whose laugh makes me crazy.
Ellie to Gage: Fine. How’s your shoulder?
Gage to Ellie: My shoulder?
Ellie to Gage: TMZ said you injured it during a stunt today.
Gage to Ellie: I can’t decide if I’m flattered or appalled that you read that shit.
Ellie to Gage: So, you didn’t hurt it?
Gage to Ellie: No, I did. Dislocated it.
Ellie to Gage: Gage! Are you okay?
Gage to Ellie: Will start to feel better once I learn you’ve finally watched The Godfather.
Ellie to Gage: Sure, I’d better get right on that. Wouldn’t want you to be too injured to film those hot pirate-wench sex scenes.
…
…
Ellie to Gage: Can we strike that from the record?
Gage to Ellie: Strike what from the record?
Ellie to Gage: Excellent.
Gage to Ellie: But Ellie…
Ellie to Gage: ??
Gage to Ellie: Filming sex scenes REALLY isn’t what it’s like when you see the final movie. The lights are bright. There are fat dudes eating burritos staring dispassionately at your junk, which is covered by a sock. And it’s hot here, so they put deodorant EVERYWHERE.
Ellie to Gage: Everywhere?
Gage to Ellie: Everywhere.
Ellie to Gage: Annnnnnnnnd, I’m out.
Invitation Ceremony #12
EIGHT WEEKS LATER, DURING THE AIRING OF EPISODE 12 OF JILTED:
Dear Aria—
You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Gage Barrett and his future bride on Saturday, May 21, at two o’clock in the afternoon. Dinner and dancing to follow.
*
The Runaway Groom on why he jilted Aria: “I hope Aria and I stay friends. She makes me laugh, and she’s damn good at pool. But I just didn’t see her as the one I wake up to when I’m eighty.”
*
Text message from Gage to Ellie: What, no commentary on why I sent Aria home?
Ellie to Gage: Um, okay…honestly?
Gage to Ellie: Always.
Ellie to Gage: I didn’t watch. Actually, I don’t think I’ll watch any of the rest of them.
Gage to Ellie: Ah.
Ellie to Gage: …? You realize there are about a dozen ways that single syllable can be interpreted, right?
Gage to Ellie: I get it. You don’t want to watch me mack on other women.
Ellie to Gage: “Mack on”? Actually, keep that up. Makes it easier to not mind in the least that you’re a few episodes away from getting married.
Gage to Ellie: Quit fishing.
Ellie to Gage: You’re really not going to tell me?
Gage to Ellie: Not my fault you were the only eliminated contestant not to show up for the finale. You signed the contract, so you remember just how cutthroat the “don’t discuss a single detail until the episode’s been released” provision is. It all but threatened to cut off my dick if I talk about the finale.
Ellie to Gage: But it’s meeeeeeeeee. They’ll never know. I won’t tell anyone, swear.
Gage to Ellie: Are you whining right now?
Ellie to Gage: Is it working?
Gage to Ellie: Not even a little bit. How’s business?
Ellie to Gage: Eh, it’s good. Really good, actually.
Gage to Ellie: Huh. No exclamation point. No champagne emoji. What’s up, Wright?
Ellie to Gage: Promise you won’t tell Marjorie?
Gage to Ellie: Can’t promise. Was going to go call your business partner and best friend whose last name I don’t even know RIGHT after we got done here.
Ellie to Gage: Okay, fine. It’s going great, and business is booming, mostly because of the show, so thanks for that…
Gage to Ellie: But?
Ellie to Gage: Don’t rush me! Anyway, so I’m a little…bored.
Gage to Ellie: Passing itch, or bigger than that?
Ellie to Gage: Not sure yet. And the topic makes me fussy, so let’s change the subject.
Gage to Ellie: You got it. About The Godfather…
Ellie to Gage: OMG.
Invitation Ceremony #13
NINE WEEKS LATER, DURING THE AIRING OF EPISODE 13 OF JILTED
Dear Cora—
You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding
of Gage Barrett and his future bride on Saturday, May 21, at two o’clock in the afternoon. Dinner and dancing to follow.
*
The Runaway Groom on why he jilted Cora: “I love her feistiness, but sometimes I got the feeling she was looking for a fight. I’ve got enough drama in my day job—I don’t want to deal with it at home.”
*
Text message from Gage to Ellie: Took your advice from our talk the other night. Talked to my brother today. And Layla. We Skyped, so I saw the baby.
Ellie to Gage: I’m so glad. How’d it go?
Gage to Ellie: My niece looks like a cranberry.
Ellie to Gage: Deep thoughts there, Hollywood. I mean, how did it go with your brother and Layla? Did you guys talk about…stuff?
Gage to Ellie: You mean like the fact that she dumped me and then ran off with my brother? Nah. Thought that was a little much for Skype.
Ellie to Gage: I get it.
Gage to Ellie: Actually, that’s not why. I thought I’d see them and be MAD. Instead I was just…I don’t know. They seemed happy, and I was happy for them, but also a little indifferent to our past. I dunno, maybe that makes me an ass.
Ellie to Gage: What it makes you is a well-adjusted adult. I’m proud of you.
Gage to Ellie: Thanks. You’re a good friend. Just in case you’re having one of those days where you remember how pathetic you are, and need a pick-me-up.
Ellie to Gage: You’re too good to me. How’s filming?
Gage to Ellie: Tedious. Final weeks are always the worst. Newness is worn off, and we’re mostly doing rework stuff. Plus there’s all these damn dust storms, which means we have to do reshoots of nearly everything.
Ellie to Gage: I think this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned not loving every little thing about acting.
Gage to Ellie: Yeah, well, it’s more than making out with hot girls. Still wouldn’t change it for the world. Speaking of careers, have you had The Talk with Marjorie?
Ellie to Gage: I did, actually. It went exactly like you said it would. Marjorie hugged me, said my happiness was the most important thing, and that we’d figure it out. She thinks her sister might be interested in taking over my side of the business.
