Kicking Reality

Of course they would.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, I fight the urge to start another argument and remain tight lipped. Wes pulls out his cell and stands behind me, leaning down and kissing my cheek as the camera clicks.

“Let’s ease the rumors.”

He types away, then places his cell in his back pocket. “We both have committed ourselves to the show. Just do this for me, Em. Finish it off with high ratings and then you can walk away.”

He says goodbye and disappears, closing the door behind him as I move to the balcony and watch him drive off. With my cell in hand, I log on and see the photo he posted on Instagram.

How beautiful is my fiancée? Love this woman so much and can’t wait to make her my wife soon. #Beautiful #FutureBabyMama

Great. That last comment would start the rumor mill. It felt like it was one thing after another, never time to just relax without drama.

As predicted, the comments went nuts and Nina’s number flashes on my screen within minutes.

“Are you pregnant?”

“No,” I tell her. “Wes just posted that to ease the rumors about us splitting up.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I hear the relief in her voice. “Thank God. My phone is blowing up.”

“Sorry. I had no idea he wrote that. Call him and get him to post something to shut everyone up. I don’t know . . . I’m over it.”

“I get you’re over it,” she responds with frustration. “But you still have a job to do and I’m busting my ass to get things tied up. Don’t give me extra work to do by posting silly little lies like this.”

“Nina.” My tone is sharp, my patience wearing thin. “I didn’t do this. Take this out on Wesley. I need to go.”

“Em,” she calls out, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my plate. Tomorrow is the magazine article and feature spread of your engagement. The photos of the ring and possible dresses will be made public. Don’t forget to share the article online. We need to push hard or the magazine will retract future deals if we don’t make target.”

“I don’t feel right about this. What is going to happen when everything is called off?”

“Then the tabloids get what they want—controversy, drama. C’mon Em, you know how it all works.”

“I know. I just don’t agree.” I remain sullen, feeling sorry for myself. “How much longer do I need to stay here, with Wes?”

“Look. I know it’s hard. It can’t be easy to stay with a man you don’t love.”

“I never said I didn’t love him,” I interrupt.

“Then what are you saying? You want to marry him? This changes the whole game.”

The game. Two words that impacted my already-fragile emotions. I wanted to run away from it all. Give up and just move to some country town in the middle of nowhere where nobody gives a fuck about who I am. Where I can walk down the street dressed in the grungiest of clothes and people simply did not care or judge me.

“Nina, Wesley and I are over. I know what’s going to happen when this story breaks, I’ll pretty much have to go into hiding till it all dies down. I just don’t get why this article is still going forward. It might not sit well with some people.”

It wouldn’t sit well with Logan. His jealous streak had only gotten worse; a side to him I had never seen. In some ways, it terrified me. I didn’t know what he was capable of. He wasn’t the Logan Carrington I once knew. He was this obsessive creature that didn’t know how to express his feelings.

A quick phone call turns into an hour-long conversation about our upcoming commitments. I could hear the constant beep in the background, knowing everyone would be chasing my tail to see if it’s true. I could kill Wesley with my bare hands right now.

When we hang up the call, I reluctantly check my screen and see only Logan’s name:

You received 10 missed calls from Logan Carrington.

Why won’t you pick up your fucking phone?!!

I’m dead serious Emerson. Answer my calls.

If this is your way of paying me back, we’re fucking over. I never pegged you to be this vindictive but obviously, you are. Have a nice fucking life Mrs Rich.