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“I’ll be fine. Tayla flies in tomorrow morning so we’re gonna hang out.”
“You never told me Tayla would be in town.”
I sigh, shutting the lid of my laptop to give him my full attention. “Mom was supposed to come but had something last minute pop up, so she’s sent Tayla instead. I didn’t tell you because I figured you didn’t care.”
“I care, Emerson.” He moves closer to me, resting his hand on my cheek.
Without hurting his feelings, I turn my face away allowing him to pull back. Since we got back from London last week, our schedules have been busy with no time to unwind. We have two more shows to film before final edits. We did a round of interviews, appeared as guests on talk shows, and had meetings with our business partners. Each night I’ve come home utterly exhausted, fitting in small workouts here and there then crashing as soon as I hit the pillow.
It leaves little time to think about Logan and how we left things off, despite the thousands of texts he sends each day which I continue to ignore.
“I should go.”
“Have fun.”
“Do you really mean that?” he asks in a civil tone, a small smile appearing
on his tired face.
“I do.” I offer a small smile in return, hoping to reconcile our constant fighting. “We’ll get through this, okay? Just have fun with the boys.”
“I never meant to hurt you, Em. I don’t know what happened that night,” he admits quietly. “I know we’re not together, but it doesn’t stop me from loving you.”
Letting out a sigh, my eyes meet his with forgiveness. “It’s done, Wes. We need to move on with our lives. We have two episodes left to film. Cliff said they’ll show our argument at Scarlett’s party. The cracks are already there for those who want to read between the lines.”
“I know. But you know that season won’t air until the fall. In the meantime, the network doesn’t want to show any cracks in our relationship. They want it to be a surprise. Ratings soar higher that way.”
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 Wes drive off.
With my cell in hand, I log on and see the photo he’s posted on Instagram.
How beautiful is my fiancée? Love this woman so much, and can’t wait to make her my wife. #Beautiful #FutureBabyMama
Great. That last comment will start the rumor mill. It feels like it’s one thing after another, never time to relax without drama.
As predicted, the comments go nuts and Nina’s number flashes on my screen within minutes.
“Are you pregnant?”
“No,” I tell her. “Wes posted that to ease the rumors about us splitting up.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I hear the relief in her voice. “Thank God. My phone’s 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 so 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 shit out on Wesley. I need to go.”
“Em…” she calls out, apologetic, “… I’m sorry. I have a lot on my plate. Tomorrow’s 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’s going to happen when everything’s called off?”
