After The One (The One Series Duet)

by Danielle Allen

  We stopped next to Koko who was standing beside the stage steps.

  “…and because of that, it is even more special that we are here to sing backup as our friend, Julian Winters serenades his wife, the beautiful, brainy, and brilliant Zoe Jordan.”

  Julian kissed me softly before he made his way up the platform to thunderous applause and catcalls.

  My fingertips immediately brushed over my lips, savoring the feeling of his kiss. I tilted my head to the side as I watched his sexy ass greet his friends on stage. When he turned around, I took a moment to appreciate the way his tuxedo was tailored to his muscular body, the way his smile lit up the chiseled features of his face, and the way his eyes penetrated the room. He slipped on a guitar that looked similar to the one I gave him for Christmas and brought the microphone to his lips. His eyes found mine causing my breath to falter. My heart skipped a beat just watching him on stage in his element.

  “How’s everybody doing tonight?” Julian asked, smiling wide. Once the cheers died down, he continued. “It’s good to see you all here. Thank you for being here to celebrate with me and my wife.”

  The cheers were loud, the flashes of light were bright, Koko bumped me with her hip and it all barely registered as my eyes were glued to my husband. I knew I probably looked like a lovesick puppy and the cameras from The One were catching every pining glance. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

  “I love you, Zoe.” Julian licked his lips and flashed a panty-melting smile. “While on tour, I wrote a lot. Poems turn to songs turn to musical love letters to listeners. But this song is different. It’s a musical love letter that’ll eventually be available to listeners, but was written exclusively for Zoe. I never told her about it because I was waiting for this day to surprise her with it. Anyone mind if I debut it here?”

  The reception guests didn’t stop applauding until Julian started strumming a simple beat on the guitar.

  I stood in stunned silence as a swarm of butterflies ricocheted against my chest cavity.

  Julian leaned into the microphone. “This is for you, Zoe. It’s called ‘The One.’”

  My stomach flipped. And then flipped again.

  I put my hand flat across my belly in an attempt to calm the sensation, but it was useless.

  Julian was sexy—that was undeniable. But when he was on stage, it was like he owned the room. He commanded attention. I was only vaguely aware that there was no additional sound or movement as everyone was captivated by what was happening on stage.

  The simple beat was slow and rhythmic. People started snapping along. His grey eyes were cast downward as his fingers danced across the strings of the guitar. He closed his eyes and let his music consume him as Super Casanova joined in with their instruments, filling out the sound.

  Once we were lured in with the melodious beat, Julian’s sexy voice softly began.

  “I’ve been searching for you

  Not literally but lyrically

  Writing songs about love

  Always written hypothetically.

  Met you by chance

  Can’t explain how you affected me.

  The thing about love

  It happens unexpectedly…”

  Julian’s smooth vocals floated over the music he created with Super Casanova. His talent was evident. His gift was obvious. But the emotion that emanated from his voice and the lyrics that were specifically meant for me brought tears to my eyes.

  Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I repeated silently as he immortalized our love in song.

  I felt his love for me through the words. I felt his love in the beat. I felt his love in the way he would look directly at me and into my heart as he poured his heart out on stage for me.

  As the song started to come to an end, I realized that I had tears running down my face. I wiped them away quickly, determined to keep it together.

  Julian took off the guitar he was using and as Super Casanova continued to play his song, he strolled off of the stage.

  With each step he took, my heart felt like it was in my throat. My belly tightened with so many emotions as I stood frozen waiting for Julian to reach me near the bottom of the stairs. As he got closer, my lip and then my body started trembling. Two pent up, hormonal, happy tears trickled down my cheeks as he approached me. I quickly swiped them away.

  Stopping less than a foot away from me, Julian’s expressive eyes took me in. My chest rose and fell in time with his as I made my move. He’d just cemented his love for me in an art form that would live on well after our deaths.

  The romantic notion of that made my throat burn with unshed tears.

  I stepped toward him, closing the gap between us. I placed my hands on his cheeks and saw the effect my touch had on him. He wrapped his arms around my waist as our lips met. The sweet kiss was salty with my tears, but he didn’t seem to mind as he deepened the kiss. When I pulled away fractionally, our lips hoovering, our foreheads touching, our breaths mingling, I lost it.

  “I love you, Julian Evan Winters,” I whispered against his lips as the tears started falling. “I’ve loved you for almost as long as I’ve known you. And I will love you for the rest of my life.”

  *****

  Unaired Wedding Special Footage

  January 1st

  6:43pm - Cocktail Hour

  Interview Room

  “I’m tired of doing these promo interviews. Is it seven o’clock yet? I’m ready for reception. All of this fake ‘I’m so happy for Zoe and Julian’ bullshit is putting me to sleep,” Pepper complained quietly. “We’re missing the action. I hope they haven’t dragged Leah’s crazy ass off of the property yet. I really want to get an interview.”

  “Leah’s probably in debriefing. This is the last interview with people from Julian’s season and session. Robert said he just wants congratulatory soundbites for the promos and a quick ‘where are they now?’ angle. We’ll be out of here in five minutes if we play this right,” Joe explained in a whisper, even though Pepper was right there when Robert Brady gave them the assignment.

  Pepper made a gurgling noise in the back of her throat. “Fine.”

  Producers Joe and Pepper looked behind them and waited until cameraman Miguel gave them a sharp nod. Once they got the signal, they turned their attention to the three women sitting on the couch in front of them. Knowing they were just below the camera’s lens, producers kept a notepad between them to pass messages back and forth so interviewees wouldn’t hear them.

  Pepper tapped her pen against the notepad, signaling to Joe to ask the first question.

  Joe shook his head, making his dreadlocks swing, but he obliged. “Hi, ladies…I’m Joe, this is Pepper and we’re just going to ask you a few questions. Sorry about stealing you away during cocktail hour, but you’ll be done with us before the reception.” He paused. “So, what brings you this weekend?”

  Tori tucked her bleached blonde hair behind her ear as she flashed a smile almost as bright as the shiny silver dress she wore. With an earnest look, she leaned forward. “I came because I wanted to see Julian and Zoe tie the knot. I’m so happy for them. They make the cutest couple.” She glanced over at Tiffany and Ana, her blue eyes lighting up with inner deviousness as she scoffed. “I’m just kidding. I don’t give a damn about their wedding. I’m only here to promote my new show, Hot Hollywood Housewives.”

  Tiffany’s mouth dropped open as she shook her head. “Wow, Tori.” Uncrossing and then crossing her legs, the emerald green dress with the hip high slit exposed her creamy pale thigh. Looking directly at the camera, she continued, “I’m here because I like weddings, vacations, and good looking men. Zoe and Julian seem like the real deal so I’m happy for them.”

  Ana nodded in agreement. “I’m here for the wedding.” Her thick Romanian accent was as striking as her dark hair and flawless skin. Wearing a low cut dress, Ana flipped her silky tresses over her shoulder and gave a smoldering look to the camera. “And for the men.”

&n
bsp; “Ana, do you mean the men in attendance or the men who work on the show? Joe, watch out—Ana might fuck you for more screen time.” Tori’s snarky comment caught the room by surprise as she laughed. Seeming to notice no one joined her in amusement, she stopped. “What?”

  “Are you serious?” Tiffany whipped her head to the right and glared at Tori. Her face reddened and almost matched the deep crimson of her hair that was pulled into a high bun on the top of her head. “You said you weren’t doing this bullshit anymore. But whenever a camera is around, you’re back at it. You’re not this person. Stop being a bitch.”

  “What?” Tori threw her hands up and let them fall to her lap loudly. “It was a joke! And it’s not like it was a secret or anything. Everyone knows.”

  Ana’s pretty face twisted into a scowl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Tori quirked her eyebrow and made a face at Ana. “Okay, Ana.” She turned to the camera. “Ana doesn’t know what I’m talking about so I guess she didn’t sleep with a producer to try to win the competition and get Julian.”

  Tiffany, positioned in the middle of them, looked from left to right before settling her eyes on Tori. “What’s your problem? We’re supposed to be here having a good time. Downstairs, twenty minutes ago, you just said—”

  Ana patted Tiffany’s knee. “No, it’s okay. Tori wants to make a name for herself as a reality TV bitch. I see her for the fame-whore that she is.” She folded her hands in her lap and turned her body so that it was angled in their direction. “Tori, you’re really concerned about what’s going on in my life, but you should be worried about your own. I saw some of your fellow castmates from the Housewives show in the winery. They all seemed to actually have husbands. Where’s yours?”

  Tori narrowed her eyes. “You’re one to talk. Your desperate ass can’t keep a man or a job. And who’s watching your kids? You keep dumping them on other people for this.” She gestured to the cameras. Sitting back as if she knew she had hit a nerve, she added, “Ladies and gentlemen…Mother of the Year.”

  Writing ‘too far’ on the notepad, Joe’s eyes pinged between the two women. He braced himself for a fight that he’d ultimately have to stop.

  Pepper nodded, sloppily adding ‘hate her’ to the notepad. She seemed simultaneously pissed and riveted by the action.

  Ana stood, her compact body billowing with tension. She had a death grip on her tiny clutch and a death stare directed at Tori. The anger thickened her accent. “You bleached blonde bitch, you take that back.”

  “Or what? You’re going to hit me? You are such a great role model for your kids,” Tori baited cattily. “Great job teaching them to be jealous and desperate—you drop them to chase men who don’t want you and fight women who are prettier and more successful than you.”

  Tiffany scooted to the edge of the couch, her hands up to keep Ana from jumping on Tori—even though Tori deserved it.

  Ana took a noisy breath as she muttered something in Romanian. “You’re not worth my time or energy. You’re as fake as your tits.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Ana removed her microphone and dropped it on a table as she walked out.

  “Can you believe her?” Tori hissed, staring at the doorway with her mouth agape.

  “Her? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Tiffany scooted into the seat that Ana vacated, staring straight ahead. Her eyes bounced from Joe to Pepper. “Are there any other questions?”

  Tori’s face scrunched up in confusion as she stared at Tiffany. “What? That’s the most interesting thing she did on the show. I’m not judging her for being slutty—but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s a slut. It’s not like I’m lying on her. It’s the truth. You know it’s true. They know it’s true, too.” She gestured to the producers who sat in shock watching the interview dissolve into trashy reality TV gold. “What’s your problem? This isn’t any different than what we said on the show.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not on the show anymore. It’s been two years and you’re almost thirty now. This isn’t high school or Mean Girls.” Tiffany rose to her feet, unclipping her microphone and dropping it on the table beside Ana’s. “You’re too old to be acting like this.”

  “And you’re too old to pull off that dress.” Tori retorted.

  Tiffany shook her head. “Grow up.”

  The door slammed behind her.

  “Well, I guess it’s just me now,” Tori commented haughtily. She repositioned herself in the center of the couch and crossed her long, thin legs. “It’s probably for the best. No one probably remembers who they are anyway.”

  “I think we’ve got everything we need,” Joe concluded quickly. “Thank you.”

  “Wait,” Pepper interjected, putting her hand on top of Joe’s as he started to grab the notepad between them.

  Joe’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his producing partner. In turn, Pepper winked and nodded slowly.

  Joe sighed and shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  Pepper’s smile stretched across her face as she trained her eyes on Tori. Joe knew that look so he tapped the paper between them as he wrote ‘don’t do it.’ She ignored him and scratched her temple.

  “Tori,” Pepper started sweetly. “You’re on the show Hot Hollywood Housewives and as it was mentioned, you’re not married. How did you manage to get that gig?”

  Joe underlined his message three times, but Pepper continued to ignore him.

  Tori’s smile dimmed a bit and a worried crease faintly appeared between her eyes. “I earned it.”

  “You earned it?” Pepper asked, cocking her head to the side.

  “Yes. I earned it. I auditioned like everyone else,” she snapped, squaring her shoulders and standing. “That’s it for now. Thanks.”

  “You certainly did earn it.” Pepper leaned forward, going in for the kill. “Fucking Robert Brady for a spot as a mean girl on his new show seems like a fair trade off.”

  Tori’s chest heaved as she glared at Pepper. “No. That didn’t happen.”

  “I’m not judging you for being slutty—but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a slut. It’s not like I’m lying on you. It’s the truth. I know it’s true. You know it’s true.” Pepper gestured beside her. “Joe and Miguel know it’s true, too. It’s not a secret and it’s definitely the most interesting thing about you.”

  Hearing her words being thrown back at her seemed to catch Tori off guard. She swallowed hard. “It’s not true. I didn’t—”

  Pepper stood up. “You should’ve made sure you were alone and checked the next room before begging to suck his dick for the part. You think you had it rough? I was stuck in my office, trying to work while some reality TV has-been tried to stretch her fifteen minutes of fame into a full half hour.”

  Tori froze.

  “Yeah, exactly. So think about that before you start spilling people’s secrets and slut-shaming other women for doing practically the same thing you did.” Pepper pursed her lips and silently dared Tori to say anything in return. “You can leave now.”

  Joe and Miguel looked at each other with wide eyes.

  Tori didn’t utter a word as she hustled out of the room.

  “Well damn, Pepper,” Joe commented as soon as the three of them were alone.

  “I told you Pepper was crazy,” Miguel laughed, running his hand over his bald head before breaking down his camera equipment. “Sheesh.”

  Pepper smirked as she put the notepad into her shoulder bag. “I hate girls like that. My best friend in high school was a bitch and I’m a bitch, too, so that was fine. The problem was that she was a mean girl and I didn’t realize until it was too late. I told her that I’d had sex with the foreign exchange student after track practice.” Pepper shook her head. “That bitch told everybody and it followed me to college.”

  “Why?” Joe asked as he made his way to the door.

  “Maybe she liked him and never told me. I don’t know. What I do know is that if someone thinks of you as a friend and trusts
you with a secret, you don’t publicly shame them and you definitely don’t do it on TV.”

  “I’ll never understand women,” Miguel chuckled.

  Pepper looked over her shoulder at him. “Women don’t do things like that. Girls do.”

  “Oh shit.” Joe waved Pepper and Miguel through the door. “It’s seven o’clock. We need to get down to the reception if we want to eat and be ready for the first dance.”

  *****

  January 1st

  7:03pm - Reception

  One hundred feet from the back entrance of the reception building

  “Pam, are you ready? She said she won’t leave until you talk to her. We need this interview and we also need to get back to the reception if we plan to eat,” Axel explained, a little annoyed that he was paired with the naïve, wide-eyed new producer. “Do we need to wait for Joe or Pepper? They just finished up.”

  While Pam paced in front of him, he chewed on his toothpick and stared at her ass. Although he didn’t think she was cut out for the puppet mastery of being a producer, Axel didn’t mind the view.

  “No, no. I can handle this.” Pam rolled her shoulders back and cleared her throat before turning to face her producing partner. “Let’s do it.”

  As Pam walked over to the edge of the road, Axel waved over the camerawoman and waited for her to catch up. “Sydney, we’re ready.”

  “About damn time,” Sydney muttered as she hoisted the large camera onto her shoulder.

  “Pam’s the only person she’ll talk to. And if she does well with this, we won’t have to babysit her anymore. Then we can pick up where we left off, sweet cheeks.” Axel slipped his hand over Sydney’s round ass and squeezed.

  “That was a one-time thing. Grab my ass again when I don’t have my camera, you’ll lose a limb,” Sydney snapped as they saddled up to Pam. “We’re rolling in five…”

  Axel smirked, running his hand over his thick black beard. “Four…three…two…one…”

  “Hi Leah,” Pam started in her sweet voice. “What happened back there at the wedding ceremony?”