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“Safe? Wesley, I can’t even think right now. Do you know what I was more concerned about?” I pause for effect and then continue, “George… and what would happen to him rather than to us? Maybe that’s saying a lot about our relationship.” I storm past him with my suitcase in hand, straight to our bedroom. Shutting the door behind me, I lean back and close my eyes trying to calm my racing heart. George’s yelp startles me, and with my eyes wide open, I scan the room to see him sprawled across the shaggy white rug that sits near the window. My body falls to the ground, limp and weak with the stream of tears staining my tired face. George senses something’s wrong, stretching his stubby legs, he walks across to me where he lays his head on my knee.
“Tell me I’m doing the right thing,” I whisper into George’s face, holding him close and seeking the comfort of his warm body. “Tell me that somewhere out there, someone better is waiting for me.”
George closes his eyes, resting peacefully as my cell vibrates in my bag. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand then reach over to grab it, welcoming the distraction.
Logan: I sold your weed and bought those expensive soccer boots you said looked like they belonged to a drag queen. Better I look like a drag queen than you stunt your growth.
I smile through my tears, placing my cell down and laying on the floor with George cuddled into my side. Logan has this way of making me laugh, although at times, I’m more annoyed than humored.
But for today, it’s exactly what I need. That one text is enough to ease my troubles.
Within minutes, I fall asleep to the sound of George’s grumbling snore.
***
“This is not how we expected to start the third season.”
Jeffrey Marsh is the executive president of the network. A short, balding man, with a ruthless attitude and known as a shark in the industry. Surrounding him is his team who are all nervous and writing down notes as he speaks.
I sit beside Nina and across the table from Wesley. We’ve spent the last hour hearing Jeffrey crucify Wesley for his actions. You could feel sorry for the guy—if you weren’t his fiancée who’s been screwed over.
“I don’t know what the fuck you were thinking, Rich? Do you know how damaging this is for the network? Drugs... really?” Jeffrey continues to pace the boardroom, up and down, repeating the same things over and over again.
I hate this.
No couple should have to sit in a boardroom and have their relationship dissected by money-hungry executives. Another reminder of why I want out.
“It’s not going to work with Wes and me. We’re not together anymore. I think it’s best if I leave the show,” I raise my voice, making myself heard and my demands perfectly clear.
Jeffrey sits in his chair, swinging back and forth while staring at the door. He finally speaks, filling the silence. “I understand your predicament, Emerson. But we’re only a few shows into filming the third season. We’re rating number one in our timeslot. The fans are obsessed with watching the both of you as a couple. Even if I said it’s okay to leave, it’s not just the network that suffers. It’s all our sponsorships. They’ll withdraw and it will affect the future of the show.” He swivels his chair to face me. “Everyone who works on the show’s future may be in jeopardy. Do you really want to be responsible for that?” He poses the question so lightly like he’s asking me if I wanted fries with that.
Nina looks just as confused, after promising me it wouldn’t be a huge issue given the circumstances.
Across the table, Wes stares at me. I swear he’s smirking, but he’s quick to change his expression when I make eye contact with him. I want to grab the glass of water in front of me and throw it in his face. This is all his fault.
“What are you trying to say?” I ask, heated.
“You’re contractually obliged to film for another two seasons. Remember? You signed the contract last year while negotiating more money per episode.” Jeffrey slides the contract toward me. “So, to answer your question… you’re going to film, and you’re going to stay with Wesley for at least this season. Now, toward the end of the season, I’m happy to show the cracks in the relationship. It will make for a good cliff-hanger for season four.”
“You’re joking, right?” I laugh nervously while looking around the room, but I’m met with blank faces. Blank because no one’s standing up for what I want.
“I’m not joking, Chase. In fact, read your terms and conditions.”
I don’t listen to Jeffrey, begging Wes with my eyes to say something. He doesn’t seem to follow, gazing at me oddly while remaining silent.
“Okay, I think we’re done here.” Jeffrey leaves the room followed by his shark posse.
Nina’s quick to open her mouth the moment the three of us are remaining. “Emerson. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s not your fault,” I respond, still in shock. “I guess I should go home.” So, I mumble goodbye and ignore the rest of the staff as I exit the room and wait for the elevator. Wes follows quickly and enters the lift with only the two of us occupying it. I watch the numbers count down, keeping silent until the doors open into the lobby. Walking outside, swarms of paparazzi are on standby. Suddenly, warmth graces my hand. I look down and see Wes’ fingers intertwined with mine.
“What are you doing?”
“What I’ve been asked to do. Make everything look normal. You’re still my fiancée as far as the network is concerned,” he responds eagerly, holding tight and pulling me along. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
“Wesley. Stop!” I pull my hand away, the both of us standing in the middle of the lobby. His body is stiff, his jaw tight and eyes impatiently waiting for me to talk.
As I’m about to tell him, no, the automatic doors open and the noise of the paparazzi, together with the non-stop flashing halts my original plan. They’re watching, taking photos of this moment.
