“But Declan said…” Reagan’s voice trails off and she looks over at Oscar and Declan.
“He said what?”
I watch her bite her bottom lip and get to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” She begins to walk away from me and I sit, completely perplexed. I call out to her but she doesn’t respond. She keeps walking away from me, around the ice rink.
“Still not making headway, eh?”
Jill steps up next to the bench and has a seat on it. Just the sight of her and her bubble coat makes me pout, angrily. She yanks her black headband off her hand and drops it down next to her, “Julie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for what happened yesterday, to happen.”
“You told me you were going to take her aside, and tell her privately,” I fume. “How could you throw me under the bus that way?”
“I didn’t mean to,” She declares. “I thought Adam would fess up. I thought, I don’t know he’d admit to it and see it as an escape from her evil clutches. I thought he’d look like an idiot, and she’d run out of there in tears. It’d be karma, for what they did to you, and me.”
I shake my head at her and pull myself to my feet. “You blindsided me, and I’m the one who ended up looking like an idiot.” I scoff, “Correction, look like an idiot.”
Jill’s face twists sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Jules.”
“No, I’m sorry. I came into filming this stupid show with the intent to keep everyone arm’s length away because I knew I couldn’t trust or count on anyone. I was stupid enough to let my guard down. So, so it’s not your fault. Really.”
Jill starts to get to her feet, as best as she can with the skates still on. “Julie.”
I back away from the bench slowly, trekking to where Simon still stands, taking selfies, “Don’t worry about it.”
We spent three hours filming on the ice. It went miraculously well, Diana and Adam stayed away from Simon and me. Reagan never ventured on the ice. In fact, she disappeared after she walked away from me. Jill tried to talk to me, but I brushed her away, something I saw Oscar loved.
By three o’clock we were back at the lodge, and in our rooms.
The Spring Fling Gala is in five hours, but Simon is already prepping in the room.
Wardrobe for him had come up two hours earlier and he stood with the wardrobe woman, as he surveyed the different suits she brought. Then he began to model them for me. After his third black suit and white tie ensemble, I left the room to get us something to eat.
I shut the door behind me and step into the hallway.
“Hey.”
It’s Declan, and he’s coming down the hallway towards me.
“Hi,” I say back. “Shouldn’t you be busy getting ready for tonight?”
“Almost done,” he replies, and then he gets serious. “I was actually coming to talk to you about something.” He stops in front of me and takes his hands out of the pockets of his jean. He doesn’t look amused or even confident. He scratches the back of his neck, “I talked to Reagan today.”
I suddenly feel like the hallway light over my head is a spotlight, and I can’t move.
I don’t believe it. She sold me out.
Against my better judgement I confided in her, just like Jill, and she ran off to Declan and told him everything! After that heartfelt admission about how I never saw her as a user and—ugh!
“Okay, before you say anything else, I just want to say that I’ve been really confused, being here.” The words jumble out from my mouth. “I got caught up in everything and I didn’t mean anything I told her—”
“Stop talking.” He orders and I notice he’s as flustered as I am. “You do this. You start talking and I can’t get a word in edgewise and then we get interrupted, or, or you run away.”
“I don’t run away,” I gawk.
“You run away.” He repeats raising his eyebrows at me. “Just, listen.” He sighs loudly then and looks at me seriously, one of his hands resting on his waist. “Did you tell Reagan I’ve been using you? To get back the promotion I gave up?”
I swallow down the lump that pops up almost instantly. “I, uh, I may have told her I thought that you were. Yes.”
“Right,” he nods, interrupting me with a cynical tone. “And did you tell her that I drunkenly kissed you four years ago?”
I hate her.
“I may have…”
“That I messed with your head for the show way back then? That I’m doing it now?” He looks defeated, and I have to glance away, as my body stiffens under his presence and my heart drops against my ribcage.
“Yes,” I confess but I point a finger at him quickly. “But I’m not the only one who thinks so. Reagan does too, and Fin and Ange.”
He nods again, his dark eyes stay locked onto mine and after a second, he chuckles to himself and runs a hand across his scruff. “Who told you I pushed Diana and Adam together?”
“Adam,” I confess. “But Jill and Brooke also said it.”
“And who told Jill and Brooke?” he remains passive, standing still as he looks into my eyes.
“Uh…”
He answers for me, “Adam.”
I feel my brow come together, “Yeah, Adam I think.”
“So four years ago when Adam told you that, instead of straight out asking me you stopped taking my phone calls,” Declan deduces, “and threw a latte at me.”
I forgot about that.
“And instead of asking me here, now, you’re running around trying to villainize me?”
His fiery tone throws me a bit. “No, that’s not what I was doing.”
“But you did do it. You’re doing it now,” he gestures at me. “Did you ask Oscar? Or anybody on the crew, about those rumors?” he asks, heatedly.
“No.”
“Right, you believed Adam. Who lied to you, a handful of times over the course of your crappy two year marriage” he shakes his head at me.
“You where his friend, Declan.” I can’t help but snap at his tone. “Why wouldn’t I believe that his friend would help him—”
“I wasn’t his friend,” he utters vastly annoyed, “I was your friend. How did that not become obvious to you?”
“Because you always spent time with him!” My voice shakes. “You always came around asking for Adam—”
“Yeah! To tell him to end it with you,” he snaps angrily. “Because he started sneaking around with Diana, which by the way, happened way sooner than four months like he told you. You should also know, your ex-husband went postal when I convinced Oscar to leave their late night phone calls and secret meetings off the screen.”
My suite door flings open and we both jump in place. Simon pokes his head out, and when he sees Declan he smiles, obviously missing the tension. “I thought I heard voices. What do you think, Declan? Good for tonight?”
God, go away Simon!
But he steps into the hallway in a dark blue suit and black bowtie. His hair combed back and shiny with the amount of product he’s already put in it.
Declan looks away from him and instead of replying, he turns his back on us. I watch as he begins to walk back the way he came when he suddenly calls back to me, without turning around. “And just so you know? I wasn’t drunk that night four years ago. You were. That’s why, it never went beyond a kiss.”
My heart slams into my chest and I have to cover my eyes with my hands.
I’m a horrible, horrible person.
“That man,” Simon’s voice booms haughty in my ears, “is always so miserable.”
“Simon.” His name comes out of my lips razor sharp, and he frowns at me. “Shut up.”
I push past him, into the suite.
Chapter Twenty One
“He’s locked in another documentary on some hermit living in the Rockies. It starts a few weeks after the show ends. I don’t think he cares about winning back that promotion,” Fin tells me. “And he wasn’t lying. He was definitely given
that promotion by the network executives after you left the show.”
“So Adam did lie?”
“Apparently so, but for what reason? Why would he care whether Declan got a promotion or not?”
“Declan said that Adam pitched him an idea for his own medical practice show and Declan turned it down.”
Fin bursts into laughter, “There are hundreds of those on. What would have made his so special?”
I tap the bathroom door closed tightly and lean against it. “How did you find this out?”
“I called Eloise, Oscar’s secretary. Secretaries know everything. All I had to do was flirt with her a bit under the ruse I needed another copy of your contract.”
“Of course you did,” I smirk.
“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m blessed with the charm and appeal of Narcissus. Oh, Eloise also said Declan did in fact call Oscar and let him know he was available for shooting because the documentary fell through.”
“So, he hasn’t lied,” I deduce.
“Doesn’t look like he lied about anything, but I’d still be careful tonight. And tomorrow, until you leave. Something isn’t right about everything you told me and Ange.”
I glance at my image in the mirror.
I’m ready for the gala. My hair is curled, half back, and wardrobe has me in a long red chiffon gown, with a v-cut front that required me to tape my boobs in a rather awkward way. But it’s the first time I feel I look great.
“Just get through tonight and tomorrow’s exit interviews. I’ll pick you up at the carport at six with Ange. I have the car rental place sending over a car that Ford hasn’t stopped producing.”
“Ha, ha,” I remark as I step away from the door and adjust the back of my long dress. “Okay, I better go. Simon’s waiting…”
“About that,” Fin’s panic makes me frown, “look, whatever happens tonight just go with the flow. Don’t freak out. Just trust me when I say it’s going to work out great.”
I freeze. “Fin, please, just tell me what he and mom are planning.”
“I can’t. But when it happens, for my sake, and yours, and Oscar and the crew, just go with it.”
“Oscar knows? Declan?”
“They knew after the meeting the other day. Look, I have to go. I have a client coming by any minute now.”
“Fin, what is it?” I demand, “Does it have something to do with Adam?”
I hear Fin laugh. “Oh, you’ll see. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hangs up quickly and I’m left staring at my phone.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door a moment later.
“Julie?” comes Simon’s voice. “We have to head down now.”
I unlock the door, setting my phone down on the counter near the sink. As I leave the room, I see Liz waiting for me with my microphone. I walk over to her, casting a glance at Simon. He stands in front of the balcony window, cellphone in the air, taking a selfie with the lit up mountain behind him. He went with the dark blue suit and black bowtie, his wavy blonde hair pushed back with product.
“You look great,” Liz smiles at me as I get to her.
I lift up my arms and thank her, turning around, watching Simon as he continues with his selfies. “How does everyone else look?”
Liz lifts up the side of my dress and maneuvers her hands towards my back with the microphone box. “Good. I mean, Diana is showing a bit too much leg in my opinion for this kind of event but what are you going to do?” I smirk and Liz continues. “I’ve been working in television for almost ten years and nobody shows as much skin as she does. Half the time, she makes me patch her up when she’s in her lingerie. She makes me put it on her underwear, says she hates the clunky look of the mic box through her clothes. Newsflash, Diva, you can still see the box even if it’s under two layers of clothing.”
I chuckle at the thought of Liz awkwardly placing Diana’s mics on the back of her bra and underwear. “Is Daughters of Famous Mother’s your first gig in reality TV?”
I can feel her pull the wires against my back and I catch them as they appear in my cleavage.
“I’ve done six reality television shows but this has been the most entertaining, if I’m to be honest. I don’t think I’ve ever been part of a show with this much behind the scenes drama.” She steps in front of me and begins to fiddle with the tiny mic in the front of my dress, making sure she clips it so it isn’t visible.
“It’s been a crazy reunion.”
“Not just the reunion,” Liz chortles as she shakes her head. “The two previous seasons were just as dramatic.”
She was part of the first and second season?
She smiles when she sees my frown, “You don’t remember me. I caught that when you introduced yourself to me on the first day. It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I was just Oscar’s assistant back then. Barely talked to anyone on set, just watched everyone. But now I’m in charge of the sound.”
I grab her arm and she stops adjusting my microphone. “You watched everyone.”
Suddenly her round face goes pink, “Well, not all the time…”
“But five years ago when we first started filming, you did. So, did you know everything going on?” I clarify.
She twirls a strand of her strawberry blonde hair between her fingers, nervously. “I knew whatever Oscar told me, and whatever I saw when nobody knew I was watching.”
“Do you remember what happened between me and my ex-husband?”
“Yeah.” She gives me a half-hearted smile. “I felt so bad for you, it was really unfair what happened to you. I don’t blame you for leaving. I would have left too, and burned his car down.”
“Thanks. Can you remember if Oscar and Declan planned Adam’s affair? Or, I don’t know, suggested it? Pushed it?”
“I’ve heard that rumor.” Liz draws in a breath as she nods her head at me. “I heard it back then and I heard it from a crewmate this time around too. That Declan told Adam to do it.”
“Is it true?” I push her rather eagerly and she looks taken back with me. “Sorry. It’s just, it’s important.”
“No. It’s not true. At least from what I know, and I worked closely with Oscar and Declan,” she answers. She goes back to adjusting the small microphone in my cleavage. “In fact, it was Declan who found out about Adam and Diana first. I remember him having a fight in Oscar’s office one night after filming. He wanted Oscar to get rid of Adam and Diana. But you know Oscar, as much as he felt awful for you, he was gunning for the ratings this would bring. Then Oscar accused Declan of getting too close to you, probably because Adam started complaining. And, well, the rest is history.”
“What do you mean?” I ask seriously. “Adam complained about Declan wanting him off the show?
“No,” she shakes her head. “About Declan pushing Adam to leave you, Adam kept ignoring him but one day, he had enough I guess. So Oscar told Declan that if he told you about the affair, he’d be fired. Declan needed the work, you know, to get experience for his documentary stuff...but he did arrange all those situations where you might have stumbled upon Adam and Diana. I think he orchestrated four or five social events, but you never caught on. Not your fault, Adam and Diana were really good at hiding the affair.” She finishes adjusting the microphone and glances up at me.
I can’t believe this.
Nobody told me.
Nobody said anything.
“Are you okay?” Liz whispers, “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“Nobody told me any of this…” I proclaim.
“Really? Not even Reagan?” Liz frowns after her question. “She knew about the whole Declan thing. She got into a fight with him about how he chose his job over telling you, on account that you where her best friend and he claimed to care about you.”
He cared about me.
My lips part, “She never said anything to me.”
“This was after you caught Adam an
d Diana,” Liz clarifies. “When you were filing for divorce so maybe she didn’t want to stress you out even more.”
All her phone calls. Where they to tell me what she found out?
Simon claps loudly across the room and both Liz and I jolt in our place. Slowly, I glance over at him and find him smiling at the two of us. “Are we ready?”
I need to talk to Reagan again.
“She’s good to go,” Liz tells him.
I look over at her and give her a small smile, “Thanks for telling me all that.”
“No problem,” she shrugs. “You should have asked me earlier.”
“I should have,” I agree as Simon hands me my black clutch. “I really should have. Thank you.” She walks behind us as Simon ushers me towards the suite door in a hurry.
“Good luck tonight.”
“Oh we won’t need it,” Simon grins at me, “but thank you.”
Maple Crest Lodge’s Winter Gala is in the only ballroom at the lodge. Once Simon and I get to the ballroom, Oscar films our entrance about six times. It began to get difficult holding the same kind of breathtaking reaction every time we enter the glass doors into the gigantic room.
The room really is heart-stopping, with ceilings almost thirty feet high, held up by stark white pillars. White garland twists around each pillar and sparkles with twinkling lights. There’s a seven foot ice sculpture in the centre of the room, shaped like a carriage. Scattered around its base are red rose petals, resting on white snow. Every table is round and numbered, dressed in white lace, with a centrepiece of white lilies and floating candles. There’s a live band towards the front of the room, before the large windows that give a stunning view of the mountains.
“Wow,” Simon exhales, he weaves his hand through mine, very aware that the camera is panning across our faces. “This place is gorgeous.”
“Really pretty,” I agree, but I can’t stop my eyes from scouting around the room.
I don’t see Reagan anywhere, or Declan and his crew.
“There’s our table,” Simon declares, pointing across my face to the centre of the room. “Table thirteen.” He pulls me swiftly behind him, and we zig-zag around the crowd.
Reuniting Reality Page 27