“Oh, well, I’m not sure that’s attractive enough.” Shelly, ever the shrewd businesswoman, said.
“I’m not done, of course,” Amy continued. “You’d also get an entire day of master classes for your studio by the great ballet master Boris Petersky. How about that for attracting new students?”
“I’ll take it.” Shelly’s eyes lit up, despite the fact that Boris had been totally discredited when he’d broken up with another dance instructor and stolen her money.
Jenna knew these things since she oftentimes designed special clothes for performing artists. Dancers liked to talk, unlike models who were trained to remain silent.
Before she could reflect too deeply on the dastardly Boris, Larry walked into the lobby, wearing a tuxedo. Half of his face up to his missing ear was covered with a Phantom of the Opera style mask that had to have been glued on.
“Larry Davison, the man behind the mask,” Amy oozed. “You have in front of you two women, the past and the future, or at least we hope you have a future. Har, har, har.”
This was not funny.
Larry walked straight up to Jenna and gave her a kiss on the cheek. There was no reassuring whisper, no secret handshake, nothing. His lips barely brushed her, and all she could stare at was the plastic shell of his half-mask.
He then shook Shelly’s hand and greeted her, before taking his place next to their hostess, Amy Suzuki.
“So, Big Larry D,” Amy said. “Shelly has already accepted her part of the dare, but now, you must do your part. Will you risk your fiancée’s displeasure for a dance with Shelly? I dare you to take a small, four minute dance, in exchange for a private sailing trip with Shelly, and a twenty-thousand dollar donation to the charity of your choice.”
By now, Jenna’s jaw had clamped so tightly together she was about to crack her molars. Sure, donating to charity was always used to smooth over questionable decisions, as if the fact that money would be donated to a good cause could cover up the wrongness of someone’s actions.
“I’d like the money to be donated to the Firefighter’s Survivors Fund,” Larry said in his deep, husky voice.
Everyone in the lobby clapped and cheered, including Jenna. The Firefighter’s Survivors Fund helped not only an injured firefighter, but also their surviving family in the case of disability or death.
Why hadn’t she thought of them as her beneficiary instead of the Mountain Dog Pet Rescue?
Now, Larry would get all the credit for being charitable while hanging out with Smelly Shelly, his horrible ex. And who had come up with the idea of a sailing date?
She and Larry had never gone on one of those, and now, that activity would be forever ruined because Larry had shared it with Shelly first.
Actually, now that she thought about it, Larry had shared a heck of a lot with Shelly first—including living together and dancing.
Jenna’s blood pressure was so high, she was about to blow a gasket as Larry bent down and helped Shelly change into her ballroom dancing shoes.
He looked like he knew exactly what to do, as if he’d done it many times before—which he had.
Without a single glance her direction, Larry rose from his kneeling position and took Shelly’s hands. Both of them raised their arms to the proper position.
The romantic music started off in a slow, lilting pace.
“Larry and Shelly have agreed to perform a slow and dreamy foxtrot,” Amy announced. “This is the first time they’ve spoken face to face since that fateful day when Shelly left Larry in the burn ward swathed with bandages over fifty percent of his body.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep milking the controversy for all it’s worth.
More than Jenna’s eyes were green as she watched Larry ever so gently and carefully handle Shelly as they spun and danced to the swoony music.
Shelly’s head was bent back, exposing her long neck and puffing out her chest, and the way they matched their steps, so gracefully and in sync, with heads angled as if all that were between them was love, had Jenna fit to puke.
She clenched her fists and prayed that Shelly would take one dip too deep or one step too large, but Larry, ever the expert, guided her across and around the floor so effortlessly, that she seemed to be floating on air.
Add to that, the crooning Latino singer drew chills through her entire body, even though she understood none of the words. It seemed that Larry, however, had it down. He sang the words, seemingly for Shelly, with those devoted basset hound eyes of his solely on her. She smiled, her eyes glittering, and at that moment, Jenna realized the spark still existed between them.
The song slowed for the ending, and on the last turn, Larry embraced Shelly across her bare back and ended with a kiss on her cheek.
Even though Jenna knew it was a staged kiss and part of the dance, it still burned her to see him so tender with his ex.
The crowd clapped and whooped, while Jenna blinked back tears. Larry had never told her he was such a good dancer. He’d never shared with her what exactly had happened between the two of them. He’d always cast Shelly as the villain, which she was, but also that he didn’t miss her one bit, and that they had nothing in common.
Yet, here he was, humiliating her on national TV.
Jenna mechanically clapped as Shelly pushed away from Larry to do her final show off steps. She whirled and twirled, keeping her steps small, and then Larry came up to her and took her hand, kissing it, before they took their bows.
The audience, however, wanted more. Shouts of “Encore, encore,” rose from the midst of Jenna’s lobby.
Shelly was in her element now as she trotted around the lobby, spinning to let her feathers flare out, so reminiscent of the ostrich love dance. Larry caught up with her, and grabbed her off her feet, spinning her around and around. When she landed on her feet, he dipped her low for the mock kiss at the end of their routine.
Ripppp!!! The entire back seam of the ostrich dress tore. The dress flew apart, as if it had wings, exposing Shelly’s granny panties with bright red polka dots.
Try as he could, Larry couldn’t cover Shelly quick enough, although he made a valiant effort to shield her and drag her back to the fitting room.
Jenna bent over laughing so hard her stomach ached, and she couldn’t get an understandable word out when Amy, who was also giggling, asked her if she’d purposely put a weak seam in there.
No matter what she said, no one would believe her, so Jenna waved off the answer, and Amy cut the program to a commercial break.
Chapter Twenty
Larry tried to catch Jenna during the studio break, but she rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door.
“I was under contract not to tell you,” he said, knocking on the door.
There was no answer.
“You told me I could do anything I wanted before the wedding.” Even as he pleaded, he knew he was digging his own grave. Somehow, his happiness would never be equivalent with Jenna’s. He just wasn’t as important as she, the star of this reality show called life.
She opened the door a crack and jabbed her finger into his abdominals. “So, you’re saying it makes you happy to dance with Shelly?”
“It makes me happy to get closure, yes.”
“And the date on the sailboat? That makes you happy, too?”
“She gets violently seasick.” He couldn’t help the devious grin spreading on his face. “The only reason she agreed to it was to get the one-day master class.”
“And how would you know what she was thinking?” Jenna’s green eyes were dark with fury.
“I could see the wheels turning in that greedy mind of hers. She really hates your dress, even before the wardrobe malfunction, which I caused by picking her up.”
“Actually, you let her down well, but she couldn’t help showing off and kicking up her leg. So no brownie points for ripping her dress.” Jenna made a move to slam the door, but Larry stuck his hand in between and she let go of the door.
“Hey, I got a good amou
nt of money for the Firefighter’s Survivors Fund. That makes me happy, and you promised to be happy if I’m happy.”
“Fine, you win this round.” Jenna straightened her posture and exited the bathroom. “But don’t be so sure about me throwing the show, now that you’ve had your fifteen minutes of fame.”
“I knew it.” Larry stabbed his finger at her. “You’re reneging on our plan.”
“I’m just being flexible,” Jenna said. “Now that you’re a popular figure, especially with that slick mask of yours, there’s no reason to hide the wedding and lose out on the money for the dog rescue. Besides, wouldn’t your mother feel disappointed if she didn’t get her fifteen seconds of fame?”
“If I hadn’t thought you were going to quit, I wouldn’t have gone on the show.” Larry’s gut tightened and a sharp pain stabbed his stomach. “What’s really important? Being my wife or a reality star?”
“Nothing wrong with being both.” Jenna smirked. “I’m going to keep you guessing, you twit.”
She slid her way past him toward Amy who was ready for the next segment of the show.
“Larry, you have to appear next to Jenna for this next dare,” Amy’s assistant said. “You should stand next to the dress.”
Moments later, Larry and Jenna were standing in the spotlight. Someone had taken the mannequin, and put it on a small doily so that it stood at floor level with Larry.
He was told to position the mannequin’s arm and hold both of her plastic hands in the same manner as if he were marrying her.
The filming started, and Amy stuck the microphone in his face. “Your wife-to-be has made a truly unique wedding dress—one that the world has never seen. Stand there and picture her wearing it as the priest goes through with your vows. What are you thinking?”
“That I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” Larry tried to catch Jenna’s eye for a sign of approval, but she twisted her lips and rolled her eyes.
“So, you’re one hundred percent in love with this dress which bares a lot of skin, in all its peek-a-boo glory?” Amy asked. “Which is worse? Your bride wearing this revealing dress, or her stripping down to a bikini at the firehouse for your bachelor’s party?”
The stripping episode was in the past, so there was no harm, no foul in denouncing it.
“Definitely the stripping,” Larry replied. “My fiancée is extremely talented, and I’m sure at this very moment, many women would love to have this dress for their own wedding.”
“I’m sure they would.” Amy winked, and Larry’s stomach sank, wondering whether he’d made a mistake.
Amy turned to the audience and swept her hand across from Jenna to the dress. “You heard what Larry said. That many, many women would love to have this dress for their own wedding. Did that sound to you like he would rather Jenna not wear the dress she designed for her own wedding?”
As if to emphasize her horror and shock, Amy arched her eyebrows and dropped her mouth wide as she gaped from Jenna to Larry to the dress and back.
After getting exclamations of indignation from the audience, Amy approached Jenna and put a consoling hand on her. “I’m so sorry, Jenna. We know you made this dress for yourself and you put your entire heart and soul into it. However, your fiancé raises a valid point. How much better would it be if we could auction this dress off and donate the money to your favorite charity?”
“I can live that.” Jenna’s eyes shot icepicks at Larry.
“Jenna Hart,” Amy said. “I am officially daring you to give up this dress for an auction. In addition, I’m daring you to wear a bridal gown chosen by your nemesis, Shelly Sweet, who I’m sure is sharpening her knives for you right now. If you accept this dare, all proceeds of the auction will go to a charity of your choice.”
A smile slowly spread across Jenna’s face, and Larry knew what it meant. If Jenna chose to wear her Swiss cheese dress, she would fail the dare and be off the show. However, if she pleased him by not wearing the dress and taking the chance with one chosen by Shelly, she would get to donate to a charity and move on with the show to the season finale.
There was no way he could blame her now for going on with the show.
“This is an easy choice,” Jenna said, grabbing the mic. “I will gladly take a chance with Shelly choosing my wedding dress in return for donating this dress to Dogs for Vets, a charity raising and training therapy dogs for veterans.”
“Done!” Amy high-fived Jenna and hooked Larry around the arm. “Congratulations, Larry and Jenna, you two move on to the wedding finale. As you know, in the wedding finale, there is no surprise dare. Instead, the audience will vote on one thing you have to do to liven up the ceremony. You are free to do anything you want in your wedding and the ensuing reception, but the winner of the She Wouldn’t Dare: Wedding Edition will be determined by popular vote. The prize is a two hundred thousand dollar down payment to a house. When you add this to the other prizes you’ve already won, you are walking away with a grand total of …”
Amy’s voice droned on and on, but Larry could only stand there with a fake smile on his face. Jenna seemed excited to be in the finals, and now, he would have to face his mother at the reception, maybe even have to dance with her, and of course, find a groomsman for Shelly among his friends.
His very own private wedding had turned into a media circus hell, and Jenna was wearing the mantle of reality TV starlet like she was born and raised in the notorious Carcasian family.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Jenna walked away from Larry after the taping. “I have lots to do.”
“You don’t have any more dressmaking to do.” Larry chased after her.
“All thanks to you, of course. Now, I’m stuck wearing whatever monstrosity of revenge Shelly can come up for me.”
“How am I getting the blame for that one? You were supposed to fail the dare, and then you’d get to wear the dress I hated.”
She whirled around and jutted her jaw at him. “So, you do hate that dress. Finally, you’re telling me the truth, instead of having me suss it out of you.”
“I, well, love it, just not on you.” He wiped his hand over his forehead. How had he gotten into such a mess?
“You haven’t even seen it on me.” Jenna stomped away from him toward her office, brushing by her gawking assistants and the remnants of the film crew. “I’m going to fire whichever of my assistants swiped the dress and helped them put it on the mannequin.”
“It was me,” Larry said in a firm voice. “But before you blow up, let’s calm down and think through the rest of the week. We still have to get the premarital counseling and go to confession.”
She spun around so fast, he almost crashed into her. “You let them in to put the dress up? What else are you hiding?”
“They contacted me and I thought they were going to dare you to wear it, and you’d purposely lose. I had no idea they wanted to auction it off.”
“You betrayed me!” she shouted, before darting into her office. “Not only did you steal my dress, you’re going on a date with your ex.”
“But it’s only to make her sick.” He shut the door of her office behind them so they could have some privacy.
“It’s still a date. Which makes me think you’re not over her.” Jenna sat down behind her desk and opened her laptop. “I have invoices to pay, and I need to meet with Cait on all of the vendors, as well as finalizing the details for the reception.”
“Can’t you do that after dinner?” Larry looked at his watch. “I need to walk Harley, but let’s get a bite to eat afterwards.”
“I don’t want to eat with a guy who’s cheating on me.”
Larry rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not cheating on you, but if the show will allow it, I’ll cancel.”
“They won’t,” Jenna said without looking up from her laptop. “Barring illness, disability, or death. Otherwise, you forfeit the money for the Firefighter’s Survivors Fund.”
“So,
I’m stuck going. You can’t blame me for that.”
“I can blame you for whatever I want.” Jenna clicked on her keyboard. “Including me losing my dress to charity. You set it up, letting them display it and then suggesting the idea that other women would love to wear my dress.”
“I was trying to compliment you. Putting in a plug for your design skills and getting a viral video showing your dress.”
“Total fail. I don’t want to have dinner with you.”
There was no sense arguing with her when she got in that kind of mood, so Larry got up and walked to the door. “I’ll go see the priest tomorrow. You got what you wanted. The reality show finale and all that publicity for your dress.”
“You didn’t do so bad yourself, Mr. Phantom of the Ballroom. Maybe you should be Shelly’s dance partner at the master classes, or is that another thing you forgot to tell me about?”
“I’m not signed up to do any master class. It’s Boris Petersky.”
“Boris is the instructor, but Shelly will need someone to do the demo with to show her students. I think you should volunteer, if you haven’t already.”
“I would never volunteer. All I did when I danced with her was to show her what she walked away from.”
“Right, so she’d want you back. What better way to underscore that than to show up in all of the publicity photos for the master class.” Jenna closed the lid of her laptop and stood. “I have to supervise the cleanup of my design studio, if you’ll excuse me.”
She elbowed by him as she exited her office.
He could have grabbed her, but that would make her angrier. It was better to stay away from her and hope her mood would blow over.
His heart sinking, he dragged himself back to his apartment where Harley waited.
Picking up the dog and hugging him, he let Harley slobber his large warm tongue over his entire face. What could he do to win Jenna back?
Or would marriage to her always be this way?
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