Twisted Reality (Blind Reality #2) (10 page)

I swallow hard and refuse to look at Jules. All I can see is Joey, sitting on the couch while I deliver the news to her. I’ve told her that Jules won’t be a problem in our lives and I meant it. Seems to me that I’m a proven liar. Joey can’t hold this against me, though, because it happened before I met her.

“Here’s the address where I’m staying. You have my number. I don’t want things to get ugly, but the media is about to find out that we’re expecting.”

With that she pushes me out of the way and exits my trailer. Even though she doesn’t slam the door, I still jump when I hear it latch and rush to my small bathroom to expel the contents of my stomach. Everything I’ve worked for, everything that I’ve achieved with Joey is gone. I don’t care how forgiving or accepting she is, Jules has already ruined enough for Joey and this will be the defining moment.

A
fter hanging up with Josh I finally decide to heed his words about getting out of the hotel and enjoying myself. It’s truly easier said than done, but I’m making an effort, even if the alligator pond freaks me the hell out.

Luckily Josh is picked up every day and taken to set so our rental car is free for me to use, otherwise I’d be hoofing it. Walking does sound better because it affords me the opportunity to stop and smell the roses, but it’s unsafe and the last thing I want to do is put myself in danger or upset Josh.

Parking along Main Street, I check out the cute little shops along the road. One is a bridal store that I linger outside the big glass window contemplating whether or not I should go in. I don’t know what I’m afraid of with having a real wedding with Josh. We’re already married and having a ceremony with our friends and family wouldn’t be that big of a deal, except I can’t wrap my head around it. Josh doesn’t have much in the means of family so why is it so important to have a big wedding? Surely a party would be enough. Maybe he doesn’t remember that I planned a wedding before. I was weeks away from getting married, only to have my heart ripped out of my chest. I had the perfect dress, flowers, and location. My honeymoon was planned and apartment ready to move into. Some wounds are hard to get over, but I get where he’s coming from. He wasn’t a part of that. He’s not the one who hurt me.

The door to the store opens and a young woman with her mother come out. In the young woman’s arm is a dress bag, but it’s her expression that catches me off guard. She’s beaming and it’s not an ordinary smile. By looking at her, you can tell she’s happy—that whatever she’s holding in her arms is part of her dream and her mother … well, her smile matches that of her daughters.

Maybe this is what Josh was talking about, the elation that comes with having a wedding. It’s something neither of experienced and something I’ve always dreamt of. I decide to go in and welcome the cool air inside the store. Actually, it’s a reprieve to be in air conditioning.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

“Hi,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “I was walking by and saw the store and thought I’d come in and look.”

“When’s your wedding?”

“We haven’t set a date yet.” I try to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

“You’re about a six?”

“Sometimes a four.” I don’t tell her that when it’s my time of the month I can push an eight. Thankfully we’re not there yet.

“Have a look and let me know what you want to try on. Is it just you?”

I look around, wondering if people followed me in. I nod. “Like I said, this is a spur of the moment browsing session.”

The clerk seems to buy my excuse and lets me look through the gowns without being bothered. The first set that I come to are so intricate and heavy I can’t imagine that they’re at all comfortable. I think that’s what I’d want; something that’s comfortable yet drastically different from what I had before.

“Cinderella,” I mutter to myself.

“Oh, her dress is over here,” the sales clerk speaks up, causing me to jump. She takes my hand, as if we’re suddenly best friends, and pulls me toward the back of the store. Before my eyes a dress is pulled from the rack and set out before me.

“This is an off white version which I find a bit classier.”

I run my fingers over the beadwork and my hand down over the layers and layers of tulle. I can picture myself being spun around on the dance floor in this dress.

“May I try it on?”

“Of course.” She leads me to the dressing room, which is larger than most, and gives me privacy. Once I’ve stepped into the dress it’s like my world has shifted on its axis. “Let me fix the back for you.” She appears again, out of thin air, to clamp me into the dress before guiding me out to the pedestal so I can see myself in the wall of mirrors.

I gasp at the vision in front of me. My hair is already up with a few tendrils hanging down, framing my face. The make-up I’m wearing is natural and in soft hues, and my already tanned skin is the perfect tone to make the dress stand out.

“Your fiancé won’t be able to take his eyes off of you all night long.”

“He’s my husband, actually. We sort of eloped and now we’re planning a wedding.”

The clerk stands behind me, tugging the dress in places, making sure everything is lined up. “Wait, I know you.”

As my heart speeds up, I do the only thing I can think and continue to focus on the dress instead of meeting her gaze through the mirror. If I act like it’s no big deal, maybe she won’t make it one.

“You guys haven’t been in the news since you said yes during the
Helen
show. My friends and I thought maybe you changed your mind backstage.”

I shake my head and tell her that’s not the case.

“What brings you to Daphne?”

“We like the laid back life,” I tell her. I imagine people know that movies are filmed here, but maybe not. Either way, I’m not telling her that Josh is here working. The last thing I want is for him to be stalked.

“So you guys are getting married?”

“Again,” I tell her, afraid I’ve already said too much. I can’t take it back now, though. If she had recognized me earlier, maybe I’d have been a bit tighter lipped.

“Well I’m happy for you. I watched the show and was rooting for you guys the whole time. Between you and me, I’m so happy he dumped that harlot, Jules Maxwell. She’s never been anything but trouble for him.”

You and me both
, I think, but I can’t say it. Even I know when it’s best not to comment on Jules. What I say about her in my suite is another story. So I smile softly and pretend to examine the dress a bit more by turning to see the side views.

“You’re very beautiful.”

“Thanks. I’ll take the dress.”

“You’ll be stunning. Let me get your measurements and we’ll have it back to you in six weeks.”

“Actually,” I say, grabbing her arm before she leaves, “can I just buy it today, as is? I don’t know when I’ll need it or where I’ll be.”

Her face falls. I’m sure she was thinking that her store would get some media attention. For all I know she would’ve had the media here when I came back to pick it up.

“Yes, of course. Go ahead and change and I’ll have it packaged up for you.”

Once she helps me out of the dress, I give it back to her. Her earlier cheeriness is gone, making me wonder if I’m right about her wanting some attention or whether it’s just my paranoia. After I’m out of the dressing room I head to the counter, lingering around because she’s with another client.

“I can ring you up.” Another clerk appears and starts typing in the computer. I give her all my information, using the address that Josh gave me. It belongs to his agent and he says he uses it all the time for all his personal information.

I hand over the credit card that Josh had rushed to the hotel. When he first handed it to me, my fingers danced along my name
Joey Wilson
. It’s a name I repeated so many times in the house because I only had ninety-days with it. The expiration date was set and it was a name that I’d never write or see in print.

Luckily for me, Josh changed all of that.

The clerk eyes me and I know she’s putting the pieces together. I fiddle with my phone, looking disinterested, and wait for the receipt to print out.

“Sign here, Mrs. Wilson.”

I smile kindly and sign my name. It’s the first time I’m doing so and I hold the pen and paper slightly longer than necessary, trying to capture the moment. If I weren’t in a dress store, I’d be taking a picture of this as a memory.

This new clerk comes around the front of the desk and hands me my dress. It’s heavy, but going to be worth it.

“Thank you,” I tell her. She smiles and wishes me good luck.

Good luck?
Isn’t that something you wish someone when they’re trying to win a prize or a game? Wouldn’t best wishes be better in my case?

I look over my shoulder at the lady who helped me, but she’s deep in conversation with another bride-to-be. Apparently my status as Josh Wilson’s wife doesn’t mean much to her. I’m not naïve in how things work, but I do know she should be paying attention to me.

As soon as I step out of the store, there’s a swarm of people that come rushing my way. In an instant, my heart is beating faster and my eyes are calculating the distance from where I am to my car. It’s too far and I’ll never make it in time.

My name is called out as I start down the street, but I ignore them. I’m pushed, shoved, and people step in front of me with flashing cameras and tape recorders. Questions are hurled at me from every direction.

“Joey, what you doing in Daphne?

“Did you and Josh move here?”

“When’s the wedding?”

It’s clear to me now why the sales agent didn’t want to help me. Her conscious got the best of her after she alerted the media that Josh Wilson’s wife was in her store buying a wedding dress.

I keep walking, pushing my way through the crowd until the questions change, and stop me cold in my tracks.

“How do you feel about Josh and Jules Maxwell having a baby?”

“Is the wedding on now that he knows about the baby?”

“Will you be a part of the baby’s life?”

“Did you know she was pregnant when you said yes on the
Helen
show?”

I try not to let my steps falter when I hear the words “Jules, Josh, and baby” yet they do. I know it’s caught on film and I’ll be the laughing stock of all the celebrity news outlets, but I don’t care. I cut behind another car and jaywalk across the street, running until I’ve reached my car. Inside, the tinted windows give a little reprieve, but not much. I bite the inside of my lip to keep from crying. I know not to trust everything the media says, but I knew, deep in my gut that we weren’t done with Jules.

The reporters follow me to the hotel and park haphazardly in order to corner me again. I rush by them, praying that they won’t follow me to my room. As soon as I see the security guard, I tell him that these people are bothering me, and he blocks their way into the lobby.

I take the stairs, but it won’t be hard to figure out which room is ours. The hotel isn’t that big and no one is going to expect Josh to be staying in a double. When I reach the third floor I’m out of breath and my arms hurt from carrying the dress.

The tears start to fall before I’m even at the door. I can’t control the sob that takes over my body. I don’t even have to find out if it’s true or not, no one lies about being pregnant. The last question replays over and over in my mind. Either she was pregnant before Josh went on the show, or he cheated on me after. I don’t want to believe that he cheated on me, but I can’t help but think that he did especially after I left with Bronx.