I look at my updo in the mirror and shrug. "Yes, thank you. But look, I’m not trying to start a fight, but he’s playing you, can’t you see that? He’s a liar. He’s had how many wives before this? He was cheating on his last wife with you, Kristi! How the hell do you not see that he’s not any good?"
"Stop, OK?" Her face is turning bright red and the tears are building in her eyes. "There’s so much about me—about us—that you don’t know. And I can’t talk about it so…"
"You can’t talk about it because he’s got a gag order on you, Kristi! Can’t you see that? Why is that so hard to understand?"
"Grace, I don’t know why you’re so angry, but you don’t understand. You only have his ex-wife’s side of the story. I know the whole story. He and I, we know the whole story. And I’m not discussing this with you. It’s my wedding eve and I want to enjoy it."
I stand up and smooth down my dress with the palms of my hands. I’m shaking, I’m so enraged. "Maybe it’s wrong to tell you things, Kristi. But I consider you more of a friend these days than a client. So I’m just going to come out and say it. He doesn’t love you, do you understand that? You’re pregnant with his child. He got caught cheating. He’s desperate for damage control to save his football career. He’s a lying, worthless cheat and you’re falling for it one hundred percent. He’s playing you, Kristi. Asher is playing you!"
"Who?" she asks, equal parts confused and outraged. "You’re crazy, Grace. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink, but I don’t want my night to be ruined because you’re having some kind of emotional breakdown!"
"Breakdown!" Oh, she didn’t. "You think I’m crazy or something? Is that what you think? Because you’re a joke around Denver, Kristi. People talk behind your back and laugh. Haven’t you seen them pointing at you, the hushed whispers? The snickering?"
"You’ve lost your mind, Grace. Seriously."
"OK, you know what? You go ahead with your fantasy life, Kristi. OK? Because I’m living in reality right now and I see the writing on the wall. He’s not here today because you’re not important. He’s not here because he doesn’t want to be here. It’s the night before his wedding and who gets married on a Thursday?"
"It’s football season, Grace! He works on the weekends! How is that any different from anyone else who works on the weekends? He can’t just call in on Sunday and say, Sorry, coach and teammates who depend on me, I’m not showing up for the game today. That’s insane!"
"You’re insane if you think this is normal."
"Define normal? Just because it’s not normal for you doesn’t mean it’s not normal for us."
"Whatever, Kristi—"
A beeping noise comes from the foyer as a key card is fed through the lock. We stop our fight and look over to watch the handle turn and the door open. And who walks in?
Kristi squeals and runs over to her soon-to-be husband and he wraps his arms around her, kissing her on the head. "Sorry I’m late, babe." He looks over to me and smiles, stepping forward with Kristi hanging on his arm, his hand outstretched towards me.
I take it and shake.
"You must be Grace?" he asks with that winning smile they flash on TV every chance they get. "John Blazen. Nice to finally meet you. Kristi has talked about you non-stop for two weeks now, she’s your biggest fan. I can’t thank you enough for taking over the wedding and making her happy."
He actually beams a smile down on her and…
I wilt.
I die right there on the spot as I play all my nasty words back in my head.
I’m an ass**le.
I bolt out the door and for once in my life, luck loves me. The elevator is open and waiting so I can make my shameful escape without having to explain myself.
There is only one place to go when your life implodes.
The bar.
Chapter Five
MY phone buzzes in my pants more than two dozen times during the premiere of Invisible Man 2, and each time I check it, just waiting for that one call. But each time I’m disappointed. Unknown numbers, known numbers… but none of them are Grace.
The movie screening ends to resounding applause and I allow myself to feel a moment of satisfaction at what we’ve accomplished. The Invisible Man is a complex character. You never know if he’s the good guy or the bad guy, and most of the time he’s both. Moviegoers like to have a clear villain. They like to know who the hero is. But the Invisible Man can’t be boxed up like that and that’s why I can relate to him.
Am I good?
Am I bad?
Am I both?
Are all those things Jasinda is telling the world about me true?
I didn’t read the entire article at Buzz Hollywood Online, but I did read the one Elite Lifestyles Magazine ran today. And that one drew very clear parallels between the story Jasinda is weaving and all the past reports. Complete with a full-spread timeline. Like they’re piecing together the clues in a murder mystery.
My date for the premiere—my Disney ex from back in my teens, who is mostly known for her sex tapes and trust-fund money these days—clings to my arm like a leech. I only brought her to take all suspicion off Grace, and even with my world crumbling around me, that seems to have worked.
My phone buzzes again and this time it’s Ray. I pry the girl’s fingers off my arm and excuse myself, walking out the emergency exit. I do not end up outside, but in the bowels of the theater’s backstage. "Yeah," I say into the phone. "Any news?"
"She’s been drinking all evening, Vaughn. She’s in the Villa Privé casino hanging on the arm of some corporate guy from San Diego. But I don’t know how you’re going to get in. It’s a private rental."
Two weeks. I’ve forced myself to stay away from her for two weeks, doing my best to keep her out of this. I felt it coming and I’m never wrong about these things. But I can’t do it anymore. She has to have seen the tabloids. She has to be drinking because of me. I am a coward if I don’t set this right. A coward and a dick. She deserves to know the truth.
I need her to know the truth. When I decided to pull away from her, my understanding was that it would be temporary. But this doesn’t feel temporary anymore. This feels like my last chance.
"Stop, OK?" Her face is turning bright red and the tears are building in her eyes. "There’s so much about me—about us—that you don’t know. And I can’t talk about it so…"
"You can’t talk about it because he’s got a gag order on you, Kristi! Can’t you see that? Why is that so hard to understand?"
"Grace, I don’t know why you’re so angry, but you don’t understand. You only have his ex-wife’s side of the story. I know the whole story. He and I, we know the whole story. And I’m not discussing this with you. It’s my wedding eve and I want to enjoy it."
I stand up and smooth down my dress with the palms of my hands. I’m shaking, I’m so enraged. "Maybe it’s wrong to tell you things, Kristi. But I consider you more of a friend these days than a client. So I’m just going to come out and say it. He doesn’t love you, do you understand that? You’re pregnant with his child. He got caught cheating. He’s desperate for damage control to save his football career. He’s a lying, worthless cheat and you’re falling for it one hundred percent. He’s playing you, Kristi. Asher is playing you!"
"Who?" she asks, equal parts confused and outraged. "You’re crazy, Grace. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink, but I don’t want my night to be ruined because you’re having some kind of emotional breakdown!"
"Breakdown!" Oh, she didn’t. "You think I’m crazy or something? Is that what you think? Because you’re a joke around Denver, Kristi. People talk behind your back and laugh. Haven’t you seen them pointing at you, the hushed whispers? The snickering?"
"You’ve lost your mind, Grace. Seriously."
"OK, you know what? You go ahead with your fantasy life, Kristi. OK? Because I’m living in reality right now and I see the writing on the wall. He’s not here today because you’re not important. He’s not here because he doesn’t want to be here. It’s the night before his wedding and who gets married on a Thursday?"
"It’s football season, Grace! He works on the weekends! How is that any different from anyone else who works on the weekends? He can’t just call in on Sunday and say, Sorry, coach and teammates who depend on me, I’m not showing up for the game today. That’s insane!"
"You’re insane if you think this is normal."
"Define normal? Just because it’s not normal for you doesn’t mean it’s not normal for us."
"Whatever, Kristi—"
A beeping noise comes from the foyer as a key card is fed through the lock. We stop our fight and look over to watch the handle turn and the door open. And who walks in?
Kristi squeals and runs over to her soon-to-be husband and he wraps his arms around her, kissing her on the head. "Sorry I’m late, babe." He looks over to me and smiles, stepping forward with Kristi hanging on his arm, his hand outstretched towards me.
I take it and shake.
"You must be Grace?" he asks with that winning smile they flash on TV every chance they get. "John Blazen. Nice to finally meet you. Kristi has talked about you non-stop for two weeks now, she’s your biggest fan. I can’t thank you enough for taking over the wedding and making her happy."
He actually beams a smile down on her and…
I wilt.
I die right there on the spot as I play all my nasty words back in my head.
I’m an ass**le.
I bolt out the door and for once in my life, luck loves me. The elevator is open and waiting so I can make my shameful escape without having to explain myself.
There is only one place to go when your life implodes.
The bar.
Chapter Five
MY phone buzzes in my pants more than two dozen times during the premiere of Invisible Man 2, and each time I check it, just waiting for that one call. But each time I’m disappointed. Unknown numbers, known numbers… but none of them are Grace.
The movie screening ends to resounding applause and I allow myself to feel a moment of satisfaction at what we’ve accomplished. The Invisible Man is a complex character. You never know if he’s the good guy or the bad guy, and most of the time he’s both. Moviegoers like to have a clear villain. They like to know who the hero is. But the Invisible Man can’t be boxed up like that and that’s why I can relate to him.
Am I good?
Am I bad?
Am I both?
Are all those things Jasinda is telling the world about me true?
I didn’t read the entire article at Buzz Hollywood Online, but I did read the one Elite Lifestyles Magazine ran today. And that one drew very clear parallels between the story Jasinda is weaving and all the past reports. Complete with a full-spread timeline. Like they’re piecing together the clues in a murder mystery.
My date for the premiere—my Disney ex from back in my teens, who is mostly known for her sex tapes and trust-fund money these days—clings to my arm like a leech. I only brought her to take all suspicion off Grace, and even with my world crumbling around me, that seems to have worked.
My phone buzzes again and this time it’s Ray. I pry the girl’s fingers off my arm and excuse myself, walking out the emergency exit. I do not end up outside, but in the bowels of the theater’s backstage. "Yeah," I say into the phone. "Any news?"
"She’s been drinking all evening, Vaughn. She’s in the Villa Privé casino hanging on the arm of some corporate guy from San Diego. But I don’t know how you’re going to get in. It’s a private rental."
Two weeks. I’ve forced myself to stay away from her for two weeks, doing my best to keep her out of this. I felt it coming and I’m never wrong about these things. But I can’t do it anymore. She has to have seen the tabloids. She has to be drinking because of me. I am a coward if I don’t set this right. A coward and a dick. She deserves to know the truth.
I need her to know the truth. When I decided to pull away from her, my understanding was that it would be temporary. But this doesn’t feel temporary anymore. This feels like my last chance.
