Blind Reality (34 page)

The elevator ride is painstakingly slow and I feel like when we reach each floor, the car pauses for effect. I know it’s not the case, but I’m in a hurry and want to start damage control. I breathe a sigh of relief when my floor illuminates and the doors slide open. The moment I step out into the hallway, my heart beats faster and my palms sweat. I don’t know if it’s from the anticipation of seeing her, and knowing the cameras are gone, or if it’s from fear that a lamp will be thrown at my head once the door opens. Either way, I’m willing to find out.

Sliding the keycard in, I wait for the telltale sign of a click before pushing the handle down. I step into the room; it’s a small suite, but still luxurious. Even from standing at the door I can tell we have a nice view, but it’ll be all for naught if she’s not speaking to me.

“Joey,” I call out as I walk through the room. Nothing is out of place and it looks like she isn’t even here. When I step into the bedroom, my suitcase sits next to the bed, but the other side is empty, leaving me confused. I should call Bronx and ask him, but that would require me to call my agent or Jules to get his number and neither is going to happen right now.

I move around the room and can tell she’s been here since the side of the bed where her luggage should be has been sat on. Walking into the bathroom, I flick the light and find a note taped to the mirror.

I’ll be staying with my parents

No signed name. No phone number on how to reach her. No hotel information. I’ve got nothing until tomorrow when we meet with producers to get our schedule.

W
hen I look in the mirror, I expect to see a different woman, one that is married to her celebrity crush. Instead, I see a woman who has been through hell and hasn’t quite made it back. Joshua had given me hope, but that hope quickly turned to fear in the blink of an eye. I’m back to being the woman who got lucky enough to land a heartthrob, yet couldn’t keep him.

Riding to the hotel with Bronx would’ve been awkward if Rebekah hadn’t been in the car. The problem is, I felt like a third wheel. And not just any type of third wheel—the kind that gets dumped on a double date and has to go home with her girlfriend and her date. The Town Car was ready for a couple and I felt like an invader.

When the car reached the hotel, there were so many paparazzi waiting and they immediately started taking pictures and it scared me. Bronx was nice enough to ask the driver to drive around to the side and drop me off. He said there’d be a less likely chance that I’d be recognized without Josh holding my hand. I smiled softly, but on the inside I was breaking down. He’ll never know how hurtful his words were even though he was protecting me.

In little under an hour I have to see Josh. I have to sit next to him and figure out a way not to be cornered by him. Yesterday, I was able to convince the producers that Josh and I were going to have a real ceremony and we decided that we’d sleep in separate rooms until then. They came up with the idea of keeping us separate until the final press tour stop, surprising even me with that one. That was the easy part. I would have thought that they’d want to keep us together and monopolize on the ‘celeb finds true love on the show’ angle. The hard part was actually leaving the beautiful room that was meant for me. The room they’ve now given me isn’t nearly as nice, but it’s time away from Josh and I need that right now.

I apply my make-up in slow strokes, making sure that the bags under my eyes are covered sufficiently. Sleep did not come for me last night. Josh was on my mind, and I was curious if he had even come to the hotel, and if he did, did he bring Jules with him once he realized I was gone? As hard as I tried to think that he wouldn’t do something like that, every time I’d close my eyes, her face popped into my thoughts, keeping me wide awake.

I stand back and look at myself in the mirror. I’ve lost weight. I need to eat a damn steak or something to put some meat on my bones. I’m thankful this press tour is over in two weeks so I can get on with my life. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but moving is an option. I need to go where people don’t know me and I can blend in. Small town living isn’t going to cut it because I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. No one needs to feel sorry for me because for ninety-days I was Mrs. Joshua Wilson.

The conference room we’re meeting in is small. There are large packets sitting on the tables, each with our names typed on them. I sit down and open mine, dropping my plane tickets, hotel reservations, and car information all over the table. As I look through, I see that I’m going to New York and doing all the major morning shows and New York night talk shows. My fangirl moments are all going to be met in this year.

I try not to look when the chair next to me is pulled out. I also tell myself to stop breathing because a freshly showered Josh with cologne is to die for. He leans in and I scoot to the side.

“We need to talk.”

Worst. Line. Ever
.

Who the hell taught these men to open with this line? There’s no “we” in this equation. He’s going to say some shit and I’m not going to have a say in anything. This is a one sided divorce and I don’t have a leg to stand on.

“Good morning. First let me start off by saying thank you for another successful season of
Married Blind
. The ratings were through the roof and we have you to thank for that.”

The man at podium acts as if we’re supposed to know who he is, and maybe everyone does except for me. He continues to talk about ratings and some logistics that have me zoning out. I’m eager to get on with the press tour and lie my ass off about how great the show is. I know there will be questions about Josh, but I just spent the past three months on a reality show, I’m sure I can make something up.

“As you can see, Gary and Amanda have opted not to join us. In fact, they filed annulment papers last night after the show. That information will be made public at a later date. Please do not answer any questions about them, aside from ‘they’re great’. Gary and Amanda are free to give their own press releases when the time is right for them.

“Everything you need is in the packet in front of you. You’ll be traveling with a personal assistant. This person will be your best friend, right-hand man, or whatever else you want to call them. They have my contact information if needed. They’ll also make sure you’re on time for all your interviews. If you need anything tell your PA, it’s their job to make this as easy as possible for you. We’ll see you in two weeks for the season premiere of the
Helen
show.”

The moment he’s out of the room, everyone opens their packets and empties the contents onto the table. I know we’re all heading to the same places, just on different days so the chances that I’ll see any of them are slim and that’s how I want it. The only person I’m willing to travel with is Bronx. I know him, he knows me and he knows the situation with Josh. Bronx won’t ask questions or make me feel like I’m less of a human because of what happened. I don’t even have a problem with Rebekah. I’d probably welcome the friendship.

Josh snatches my packet off the table and walks out of the room. I have no choice but to follow. He storms down the hall like a petulant child, ignoring my footfalls behind him. I get the bright idea of kicking his foot with this next step but think differently when I see people walking toward us. As they pass, they whisper his name, unsure if it’s actually him or just a lookalike. I could scream his name and have them return for autographs and pictures, giving me a chance to steal my packet back, but I don’t.

I follow him into another conference room. It’s larger than the other, giving him more room to pace. He’s like an old man with the packets tucked up under his arm and his fingers massaging his temples.

“I need my packet. My flight leaves soon.”

He looks at me as if I’ve said something in another language. “What flight? I’m sure we’re doing the media circuit here.”

I slowly shake my head and pull my information out from under his arm. “I’m not. I’m heading to New York. You’re staying here.”

“What are you talking about?” He looks confused and rightly so.

“The producers needed to separate a few of us because of Amanda and Gary, and I volunteered.”

“Joey, we need—”

I don’t give him a chance to respond before I’m walking out the door and back down the hall. When I hear the door bust open, I quickly step into an alcove and wait, praying that he walks the other way. He calls my name, but his voice is distant, assuring me I’m in the clear.

When I get to my room, my personal assistant is sitting in the chair typing away on her phone. She looks up and smiles before pocketing her phone.

“Hi, I’m Lou,” she says as she stands to shake my hand. She’s average height with long black hair pulled tight into a ponytail. “I took the liberty of packing your suitcase and the car is ready for us.”

“Great … oh by the way, I’m Joey.”

“Is that short for anything? My name is Louise, but I don’t look like a Louise, so I’m Lou.”

I like her already. “It’s long for Joe,” I say with a smile. She laughs at my joke, making her my best friend without even trying.

Lou grabs my suitcase and hers and figures out a way to get out the door without any help. “I can carry my bag,” I tell her, which really isn’t carrying, but pulling behind me.

“No worries, I’ve got it.”

I shrug and follow her to the elevator, praying that Josh isn’t on it, or waiting in the lobby for me. I shouldn’t have told him that my flight was leaving soon, but it was the only way to get him to ease up on the death grip he was holding.

When we get to the lobby, she rushes us right out. Even if Josh was waiting, I don’t think he would’ve seen me. Lou is barking orders at the driver as soon as we reach the car. She talks a mile a minute, but the driver seems to understand and wastes no time taking care of our luggage and getting us on the road.

When I flew into Los Angeles, I never looked at the sights. I didn’t want to be here and now that we’re driving along the freeway, I think I want to visit. I’d love to take in all that Hollywood has to offer and do a tour to see where Hugh Hefner lives and catch a show at the Hollywood Bowl. I suppose if Josh and I would’ve won, I’d be able to do just that. Maybe LA is where I need to move to. It’s big enough that I’d get lost, but I’d need a guarantee that I’d never see Josh and I don’t know if anyone can say that.

Celebrity status is something to relish. Instead of waiting in the terminal with the other travelers, we get to wait in the lounge. I immediately spot a few actors and quickly hide my inner fan-girl. I don’t want to embarrass Lou by jumping up and down. Sightings like this shouldn’t even bother me considering I’m friends with Bronx. He’s famous, and hell, as far as everyone knows I’m married to Joshua Wilson. Maybe that’s why I’m in this room … I’m an actor’s wife. Might as well run with it while I can.

When boarding is called for first class, Lou tells me “that’s us”. Lou and I walk side by side. She’s carrying a laptop bag and pulling both our suitcases behind her. I have my purse. I feel empty handed and useless.

“Please, let me take this.” I put my hand on my bag and give it a slight tug. “I get that you’re supposed to do stuff for me, but your hands are full. I can do this.”

Lou looks around, as if someone is watching, and finally lets go of the handle. I feel better knowing she’s no longer overexerting herself on my behalf.

“Would you like window or aisle?” she asks when we walk onto the plane.

“I’m fine with the window.” I’ll be able to look out and take in everything I missed when I landed here the first time.

Lou sets her laptop bag down and puts our luggage in the overhead bins. She signals to the seat and I slide in. No sooner do we sit, does the flight attendant appear to take our drink orders. I order a cocktail, while Lou orders a soda.

“I’m going to confirm your appearances.” She takes out her laptop and quickly goes to work. We aren’t even off the ground yet and she’s busy. Once I have my drink, I suck it down. Leaning my head back I close my eyes, and all I can see is Josh standing there with his eyes locked on mine, asking why I’m flying and he’s not.