Page 69 of The Reality Duet


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“You’re really going to throw away a movie deal because of some mail order bride?”

I clutch my phone tightly and grit my teeth. “You listen to me. You work for me, not the other way around. I’ve already fired Jason. Don’t make me fire you as well. Joey is my wife and the shit that Jules pulled while I was on the show was deplorable. Jules and I are done, and I will not work with her. If the producers want me, find another female lead.” I hang up without giving him a chance to respond. My PA is staring at me wide-eyed, fear masking her face.

I toss my phone in the empty seat beside me and say, “All right, who’s next and what am I wearing?” as calmly as I can without scaring the shit out of her.

thirty

Joey

“Don’t be nervous,”Lou says as she grabs my shoulders. Nervous is an understatement. I’m about to go onThe Tonight Showwith Steven Freaking Rogers. Cue inner fangirl screaming moment. Compared to the people he’s had on this show, Josh being one of them, I’m nothing. I’m small potatoes. I’m the tiny speck of pepper that lands where you don’t need it—the brushed aside piece that lives on the side of your plate until your plate is cleaned and the pepper is gone forever. That’s how I feel right now. Tomorrow, no one will remember me as Joey Wilson, instead they’ll know me as the desperate girl who went on reality TV to find a husband and got lucky and wound up married Joshua Freaking Wilson for three months.

My life is full of ‘freakings’.

I should’ve said no to this press tour and just gone home. At least in the comfort of my room, I can sit in silence and eat bonbons, not worrying if my butt is getting big. Yet, here I am, in New York City for the first time, appearing on TV. This is different from being in theMarried Blindhouse, though. I can’t explain it. Even though we were shooting live and the cameras were always on, sitting down in front of a live audience, with people standing outside of the window with their signs, feels so different.

Lou is right, its nerves, but I don’t know how to get rid of them. Most of the questions I’ve faced on the morning shows have been easy: How was the show? What did you like? What’s it like being married to Josh? Those types of questions I was prepared for. What I wasn’t prepared for was karaoke with Steven. I know he plays games and does sketch comedy with his guests, but I’m just a mundane girl who went on a reality show and married an actor. At the end of the night, I’m still just Joey, a soon-to-be divorcee.

The media junket is a circus. Wake up before the sun—forget about being tired from jet lag and the press parties we’re required to attend—and show up at the studio. Lou has picked out a different outfit for each show, even though most are filmed on the same day, and has arranged for my hair and make-up to be done at each venue. The primping, prodding, and the occasional pokes quickly cause tension. I don’t know how Josh can put up with this day in and day out. I think I’d start batting hands away and demanding that I do it myself. This is my last appearance. I’ve been here almost a week and it’s time to head back to LA.

Bronx and Rebekah are with Steven now and I’m able to watch from backstage. They’re playing his version of theNewlywedgame and Bronx is struggling to keep his answers PG. Rebekah, of course, is very prim and proper, giggling at just the right moment when Bronx reveals his answers. They make me sick, but in a good way. We’ll be going to dinner tonight, along with our PAs, and I’m hoping that I can get to know Rebekah a bit more. Her time was short in the house, with her entering when the season was almost over, and we didn’t start off on the right foot.

This part of the show ends and Steven is walking off stage. He high-fives his staff, stops in front of me and takes my hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Joey. I’m looking forward to our segment.”

Before I can respond, he’s whisked away and I’m left standing there like an idiot with my hand still sticking out.

“You’d think you weren’t married to a movie star,” Lou says as she pushes my stiff hand back down to my side. “Are you going to hurl?”

I shake my head, and swallow. “I’m fine, just shocked that he even knew my name.”

Lou rolls her eyes and leads me back to the make-up chair. She pushes me to sit and instructs the make-up girl that I have sweat spots that need to be covered on my face.

“Steven is one of the best in the business. He does his research on his guests so he doesn’t have to rely on cue cards. He wants to be personal and make sure you enjoy the interview.”

“That’s good, right? Or not, because he could bring up my ex and I really don’t want to talk about him on TV.”

Lou sighs and sits down on the small counter under the mirror. “He won’t bring up your ex or anything about your life prior to being on the show. Be careful of how you answer, though, because if you were to answer why you went on the show and you say because you found your ex with your best friend, he could run with that. So be mindful.”

“Okay,” I reply, trying not to add a list of things to my already frazzled brain.

“Five minutes.” A man wearing a slew of headgear walks by yelling at everyone. The make-up artist finishes and Lou takes my hand and leads me to the back of the stage where I will walk on. Another person is waiting and starts adding a microphone to my dress and the belt I’m wearing. For a day I didn’t have to wear one, and I already hate it again.

“My next guest scored big on this season’sMarried Blindwhen she found herself kissing none other than Joshua Wilson. Please welcome Joey Wilson.”

I step out, wave at the crowd, and shake Steven’s hand again. He asks how I’m doing while the music plays and he waits for me to sit down before he takes his seat.

“Welcome, welcome.”

“Thank you. It’s so great to be here.”

“So what’s it like to have your life filmed twenty-four hours a day?”

I take a drink of the water that has been set out for me, stalling so I can craft my answer accordingly. “It’s like living under a microscope, and if you’re up when everyone is sleeping, you can hear the cameras moving, or following you. That’s creepy.”

“Are the cameraseverywhere?” Steven winks, causing me to laugh.

“Except the master suite.”

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