Page 2 of D’Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding

“Not only is it really happening, Vaughn, it’s happening right now!”

“I can’t believe this.”

“You’d better believe it. I told you that you’d be great for that show.”

“Yeah, but I don’t—”

“It’s not about how you look, D’Vaughn, even though you’re gorgeous. I have no doubt that you could go all the way with this thing because you never bring anyone home. Instant I Do is all about convincing your family that you’re marrying a stranger, right? Well, you’re perfect for that because your family has no idea what your type is, so they’ll believe whatever you tell them.”

I gave her a skeptical look. In theory, what Cinta was saying might be true, but she was forgetting one crucial detail.

“Except...”

Cinta waved me off. “That’s a small detail.”

Furrowing my brows, I gave her a disbelieving look, only to have her raise her eyebrows. After a moment we both burst out laughing. I shook my head.

“A small detail, huh?”

She held her index and thumb an inch apart. “I might’ve went a tad overboard, trying to downplay it.”

Snorting, I shot her another glance before straightening the papers in my lap. I had to sign them all and then have them notarized. “You think?”

Cinta sighed and leaned back against the couch. “It’s likely to be a shit show.”

Pushing a heavy breath out of my nose, I nodded. My hands shook with nerves at the knowledge that my deepest struggle was coming to an abrupt end. Placing them on my bouncing thighs, I dug my fingers into the flesh, grounding myself as I swallowed that anxiety down. This was necessary. It was past time for my family to know everything about me so that I could lose the stress on my shoulders and breathe easier. I hadn’t possessed the ability to do it on my own, and now I was getting the backing of an entire network.

“Yep. It’s probably the main reason they selected me. I mentioned it in my audition and their eyes probably lit up when they heard that. It’s guaranteed drama.”

“And that’s what makes up these shows.”

“It’s what gets them millions of viewers every week,” I corrected. I wasn’t naive enough to think that my particular situation didn’t have a hand in securing my spot on the show. In fact, I’d used it as bait, knowing that my personality was otherwise too plain to be given a shot and that I needed a hook. It wasn’t in any of my paperwork, but I was sure that it had worked like a charm.

It got me in; now I just needed to make sure that it didn’t get me kicked off the show.

Party Time, Excellent

The party was at a mid-rise condo on the outskirts of downtown, within walking distance of both Minute Maid Park and BBVA Stadium. I parked on the street and used the code from my paperwork to get inside of the gated building. There were two men already on the elevator when I stepped on, probably coming up from the parking garage one level down, and after nodding their way, I moved into the back corner and fiddled with my phone as a distraction. Inside of the canvas bag hanging from my shoulder was the signed sheaf of papers. Per instructions, I’d had them notarized before sealing them in the tamper-evident envelope that was also included in the box. It was all incredibly official and very, very real.

My stomach rumbled with nerves and I hoped that the men couldn’t hear it. I stepped off the elevator and onto the eighth floor, taking my time as I walked down the eerily quiet hallway until I reached the right door. I knocked twice and stood back, willing my knees to stop knocking and my heart to stop racing. When the door opened, the sound of music and laughter reached me, and my nerves escalated. While I preferred to avoid large gatherings of people I didn’t know, I wasn’t the most awkward person in social situations. I knew how to hold my own.

Dropping my head back, I stared up at the giant of a man who stood on the other side of the door. He smiled and moved back, gesturing for me to enter. Clad in boot-cut jeans and a clingy, scoop-necked shirt, he looked significantly more casual than I assumed everyone would be.

“Hi there. D’Vaughn, right?”

Nodding, I stepped inside of the posh apartment and promptly froze when I caught sight of the camera pointed right at me. A second man, this one dressed in soft khakis and a white shirt that blended in with the wall behind him, stood in the corner of the foyer holding the large piece of equipment on his shoulder and motioned for me to keep going. I’d been expecting this, of course—today’s event had been at the top of the list on the film schedule—but it still caught me a little off guard. Releasing a breath, I dipped my chin once, shooting the man who’d opened the door a quick glance before I continued into the apartment and observed the bright, inviting decor in the foyer. There was a chandelier overhead that highlighted the art on the walls and the two large plants in attractive, glazed ceramic pots on stands.

“That’s me,” I confirmed with a close-lipped smile.

The man behind me closed the door. “Welcome, D’Vaughn. We’re glad you could make it. I’m Kevin Henderson, one of the executive producers of Instant I Do.”

Relief gripped me. No wonder he was dressed down; he was staff. Turning around, I held out my hand which he shook with a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Kevin.”

Smiling, he nodded. “Did you bring your paperwork?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the sealed envelope, handing it over. His smile widened.

“Ah, excellent!” After tucking the envelope under his arm, he showed me the closet where I could hang my coat and bag, and then pointed me straight ahead, down the short hall of the foyer. “You’ll find everyone else in there. Go on in, grab a drink, and mingle.”