Fake Marriage Act

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Fake Marriage Act Page 2

by Lulu Pratt


  Getting into the car, I just sat there a moment, letting the whole idea sink in. I had been looking for my break for so long, it just hadn’t landed in my lap yet. With taking care of my mother and the household, I wasn’t able to do as many auditions as I wanted to. When I saw this posted on the casting call site, I applied right away, but I never figured I would actually be offered the chance. The premise of the show was a bit heavy on my heart, never actually wanting to get married for anything other than love, but the amount of money that they were offering, well, it was worth the sacrifice. My mother could get her treatments whenever she needed to, all the bills could be paid for, and then I would be free to focus on moving my way up. Becoming a familiar face on a major channel was definitely going to help my career. It was just a no-lose situation to me, something I didn’t even question.

  I started the car with a smile and drove around to pick up my mother. She was sitting in her chair, her head back, her eyes closed, enjoying the sun shining down on her. She looked younger in that moment, just like I remembered her from when I was a child. It cemented the idea of this new gig even firmer in my mind. I parked and got out to help her into the passenger seat.

  “I thought you’d finally had enough and left me,” she smiled.

  “Never,” I replied, kissing her cheek. “I did get some amazing news, though.”

  I helped her get settled, then took the wheelchair back in the hospital before climbing into the driver’s seat and looking over at her. She straightened her purse and pulled on her seat belt, resting her hands in her lap and turning slightly to look at me. She was always so patient and loving with me, something I loved more than anything about her.

  “Okay, tell me what could possibly have happened between here and the parking garage.”

  “I got a phone call,” I said excitedly.

  “Steven Spielberg?”

  “No,” I laughed. “I wish, but no. I actually have just agreed to be cast in a new reality TV show that is coming out on GNTV. The prize for making it the entire six months is half a million!”

  “Wow,” my mom said. “That’s wonderful. And you get your name in lights like you always dreamed of!”

  “I know,” I said, excited like a schoolgirl. “It’s going to be amazing, and since it’s filmed right here in LA, I can still be close to you the whole time.”

  “What is the show about?”

  “I get married to a perfect stranger and if we last six months we split a million,” I explained.

  “What? Okay, and if you don’t last?”

  “The person giving up gets five hundred thousand, and the other gets nothing,” I replied.

  “Wow, you better be the first one giving up,” she laughed.

  She was excited for me, I could tell, yet as I sat there I watched her face go from smiling to sad. She turned her head and looked out the window, trying to hide her reaction. My mother was my best friend, so it was really difficult for her to hide anything from me.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “I just don’t want you to do this for the money,” she said. “I don’t want my daughter to be worrying so much about the financials. I mean, I know I can’t work anymore, and I never had good enough jobs to really save up a nest egg, but I don’t want you to make huge decisions about your life and career because you are worried about the bills.”

  “It’s not just for the bills,” I said, shaking my head. “Think about the exposure that this could get me. It would be so nice to walk into auditions and have something solid on my list, you know? To be there with more than a commercial and minor theatre. And the money, it would help me too. I would be able to take more auditions because you would be able to do your treatments with ease. I wouldn’t have to pick up odd jobs to make sure the bills were paid. This will only help me grow as an actress. And yeah, getting these bill collectors off my ass that would be nice too, but it’s not just for you, it’s for me, too.”

  My mother looked at me with a raised eyebrow, obviously not believing my spin on it, but that was okay, I was determined to do the show either way. I loved my mother more than anyone in the world. Not only was she my mom, but she was my best friend too, the person I could go to with any problem, any question. My father was gone before I was even born, and I had never heard here nor there from him. My mom had battened down the hatches and raised me as a single mother, in an incredibly expensive city, working two jobs. She never let me go without things, and always made sure that I never had to deal with being called the poor kid or anything like that. I had nice clothes, food on the table and she was always there, no matter how tired she was, to give me advice.

  She had always had a rare kidney disease, but as she was getting older, it was becoming more troublesome. She required dialysis three times a week, and she was on the waiting list for a new kidney. The list was long, and I knew that, but I was determined to keep her going until the day we got word. I would have gladly given her one of mine, but the one thing my father left me with was an incompatible blood type. That would be the case too, since he had done nothing but try to screw up my mother’s life when she got pregnant. My mom was my hero, the person I’d looked up to my whole life and now it was my turn, to take care of her. She deserved the best, and that was what I was trying to give her. She may not like it, but that was my mission and there was nothing she could do to talk me out of it.

  Five hundred thousand dollars was not chump change, it was far more than I had ever seen or every really thought of in my life. It was an amount that could completely push us into a new place in our lives. I could pay off all the hospital bills, the credit cards and the overdue payments on the utilities for starters. Then I could pay off the second mortgage we took in order to be able to afford life when she went into the hospital the first time. Hiring some help would allow me to provide my mother with a better quality of life. This would be the difference between living our lives always on the verge of drowning versus confidently staying afloat. This was by far the best chance I had at stopping the drowning and provided us both some peace.

  As I drove the car to our house, I thought about the premise of the show. I was actually going to get married, and I didn’t have a clue who the guy was going to be. I didn’t care about the looks or anything, I just hoped he was a decent enough human being that I could stand to live in the same house with him for six months. I also hoped that whoever he was, he was planning on going the whole way, because I was in it to win it.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ryan

  I stared out the window of the plane wondering exactly what Los Angeles would be like. I had never been to California, or even that far out of Indiana. I knew it would be warm, or hot, depending on the day, and I knew to expect a whole lot of people. Other than that, all I had were movies and TV shows to prepare me. Honestly, I would have stayed in a tree hut in Madagascar if the end result was five hundred grand. Of course, there I might leave with more than just a divorce, but no pain, no gain, right?

  When the plane landed, I was one of the first off since the production company had been so kind as to book me a first-class flight. I had never ridden first class before, and the relaxation compared to coach was like night and day. I was so comfortable I was almost disappointed when the plane finally landed. I gathered my carry-on and headed down to the luggage claim, not too sure of where to go after I collected my bags. However, as I exited the escalator I could see a man in a chauffeur’s uniform standing at the front holding a sign with my name. I walked over to him and showed him my ID.

  “Hi, I’m Ryan Carson,” I said.

  “Very good, sir,” he nodded. “Right this way.”

  “I have to get my luggage,” I said, pointing back at the turnstile.

  “It was already picked up at the plane and is safely in the trunk of the car,” he smiled. “Two blue suitcases and a smaller red one, correct?”

  “Oh. Yes, that’s right. Thank you,” I nodded, feeling slightly out of place.

  There
was a blacked-out Mercedes waiting for me out front, and the chauffeur opened the door for me to the backseat and headed to the hotel. We pulled up in front of the Hotel Bel-Air, which I had never heard of, but from the fancy décor and uniformed attendants, I could tell it was extremely high end. I had just enough time to put my things away and freshen up from the flight a bit, before back into the car I went to head to the offices of the production company.

  When I arrived, I was escorted through the grand lobby and down hallways that looked more like the hotel than an actual workplace. I really hoped the whole extent of my stay wasn’t this grandiose. I was not that kind of guy for one thing, and I sure as hell hoped she was not that kind of woman. We stopped at the end of the hall in front of a large mahogany desk. A short brunette, young with big blue eyes, sat behind it. She looked up at me and smiled, waving her hand at the open door behind her.

  “Ms. Owens is waiting for you inside,” she smiled.

  Nodding, I headed into the office, stopping in the doorway and tilting my head. There was a woman rushing around who was very attractive, but a bit of a mess. She turned at the sound of me clearing my throat and smiled, her arms full of binders and papers. Her ankles swayed side to side as she wobbled a bit, trying to keep her balance in the six-inch black stilettos she was wearing.

  “Yay!”

  She was more enthusiastic than I could handle.

  She looked around the room, trying to find a place for her mess, finally deciding on a chair against wall. She dumped the pile into the chair and stood up, one hand on her lower back, the other swiping at a rogue strand of blonde hair that had escaped from the rest which she wore pulled back. She tugged down on her tight black pencil skirt and sauntered over to her desk, which was perfectly tidy.

  “Sorry about that,” she laughed. “Trying to do a little spring cleaning.”

  “Spring?” I chuckled. “It feels like the dog days of summer out there.”

  “That’s LA for you,” she laughed. “Please, have a seat. Would you like a Perrier? Or a glass of champagne?”

  “Uh, no, I’m okay,” I replied.

  Until I met her, I had never encountered an attractive woman who was both clumsy on multiple levels, yet high strung at the same time. I could almost imagine her giving herself pep talks in the mirror every morning, working out on her stair stepper, while eating a donut, tears streaming down her face from the stress of her life. She was not my type in the least.

  “How was your flight?”

  “It was great,” I said. “The most comfortable flight I’ve ever been on. And the hotel is beautiful.”

  “Good, I’m glad you like it,” she said, pulling out a bound, very thick document. “You will of course be moving to the house as soon as the wedding is over.”

  “Right,” I said with a nod, feeling a bit nervous.

  “So, this is the contract,” she said. “It looks daunting and well, I won’t lie, it is. Mr. Hubert, our attorney, is on his way up to go over everything with you. It’s mostly confidentiality stuff and then rights and pay, all put together in one over-worded legal document, of course.”

  “Of course,” I chuckled, never having signed any contract besides the one to buy the garage I owned, and that was six pages long.

  After a few minutes of her babbling on about the clothes and the house, as if I cared about any of that, the lawyer showed up and we moved into the next room where we sat at a large conference table. He went through the contract line by line, and though I was a pretty smart guy, I might have signed my soul over to him at that point, but I was too overwhelmed to notice. By the end I was just glad to put my signature on the dotted line and be done with it. I hoped that the girl and I at least had some chemistry. I could make it work that way, otherwise it might be a bit miserable until the day I decided to get out of there.

  “Okay,” Evelyn said, clapping her hands. “Let’s go into the next room.”

  “All right,” I said, shaking hands with the lawyer, not at all sorry to see him go.

  We walked into the back where there was a blue backdrop drapery with a stool on top. Evelyn flipped on the lights and pointed to the seat. I nodded and walked over, sitting down. I felt uncomfortable already and knew this was just the beginning.

  “So, we’re going to do a brief introduction here,” she smiled. “I just want you to relax, look into the camera and tell us about yourself. You can just act like you are talking to me in a normal conversation. Make sure to smile and relax your shoulders, you look like a robot.”

  I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders, trying to let the nerves go. She smiled and nodded at me as the cameraman lifted his head. He held up three fingers and counted back, pointing to me when it was my turn.

  “I’m Ryan Carson, I’m from small-town Indiana where I own a mechanic shop,” I said, pushing out a fake smile at the end.

  “Cut,” Evelyn said, smiling broadly with that fake laugh that may turn out to be her trademark. “Okay, let’s do this instead. Tell me where you’re from, a little about your shop, what you do in your time off work, what your interests are, and what your future goals are. Okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said, sitting back up in the chair.

  “And relax your shoulders,” she winked.

  The cameraman gave her a side glance and adjusted the camera before giving me the same count down all over again.

  “Hey, I’m Ryan Carson from small-town Indiana,” I said, with enthusiasm. “During the day I run my own mechanic business. I’m into football, family gatherings and anything to do with cars. In the future, I’d like to have my own mechanic shop empire.”

  Evelyn clapped her hands and headed back over to me, looking me up and down. I felt like I was for sale, and she was the potential buyer.

  “I think the tux we got you will fit perfectly, but just in case try it on when you get back to the hotel and if it needs alterations just have the concierge send it over to me here at the studio,” she said. “Other than that, I will brief you tomorrow on the ceremony and in two days you will be the first ever star and husband on our new series!”

  I smiled, unsure of what to say.

  “So, dinner is on us tonight, anywhere in the city, or you can always do room service if you prefer. Your choice,” she said. “If you need a ride, call the front desk and they’ll have a car and driver at your disposal. We are so glad to have you on the team, Ryan. Call me if you need anything, otherwise, I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” I said, as she raced out of the room.

  The cameraman gave me a pitied smile and nodded. “You’ll get used to her.”

  I chuckled and nodded my head, looking over at the secretary who was waiting to escort me out. I jumped down from the stool and followed her to the car which drove me straight back to the hotel. Everything was moving so fast, but at least I had a decent place to stay for the two days before I said, ‘I do’ to a perfect stranger. I still couldn’t believe I’d agreed to do this, it wasn’t like me in the least.

  When I got back up to my room there was a tux hanging on the back of the door. It was Armani and looked just like something you’d see on a movie star on the cover of some magazine at a store checkout. I was pretty sure the suit cost more than my first car. Carefully, I took it off the hanger and, piece by piece, I put it on. Evelyn was right, it fit perfectly, like it was made just for me, and I wondered if it just might have been. I stood looking at myself in the mirror feeling regal, fitting in perfectly with my surroundings. I looked like a rich bastard, and I had to admit it looked good on me. Just then, my phone rang and I picked it up, smiling what I saw it was Miles.

  “I’m wearing an Armani tux right now,” I answered.

  “Already tying the knot?”

  “No, not for two more days but I had to try on the tux to make sure it fit right,” I explained. “I look like James Bond right now.”

  “And you probably smell like Gold Bond,” he laughed.

  “Very funny,” I
scoffed.

  “Seriously, when I did this, I really intended it as a joke,” he chuckled. “I can’t believe that you actually took the bait and are going to be a reality TV star. Seriously, I’m just gonna start calling you Snooki. Are you gonna get one of those really bad fake tans?”

  “Make fun of me all you want,” I said, straightening my bow tie in the mirror, as I realized I hadn’t actually tied it correctly. “You are the one who put me in this position in the first place. And, man, they dangled six figures in my face and now I’m stuck. I am going to be someone’s husband in two days.”

  “Watch, we’re thinking she’s gonna be like Jessica Rabbit,” Miles said. “But she might end up being Roger Rabbit.”

  “Hey, for five hundred grand, I’ll sign the damn dotted line and then erase my memory afterwards,” I laughed. “How hard could it really be?”

  CHAPTER 4

  Mira

  “My name is Mira and I was born and raised right here in sunny Los Angeles. I live with my beautiful mom who is also my best friend, and I am working on becoming an actress and model. In my spare time I love to relax with my mom’s dog, Ollie, go to the beach, swim and anything that has to do with art. I would love to star on the big screen one day in a romantic comedy or science fiction movie. I am excited to be part of this new series and nervous to meet the man I’ll marry!”

  “And cut,” Evelyn said, smiling. “You are a natural. I love it, and they will love you. You are like the sexy girl next door. It’s perfect. So, the contract is all signed and ready to go. Tomorrow I will contact you with the details of your big day, eek! And then two days from now you will be married! I love weddings, I can’t wait to go to yours. Ooh, it’s gonna be so exciting!”

  “Yeah,” I giggled nervously. “Exciting and nerve-racking.”

  “Oh, you’ll be just fine, and the day of the wedding you get all kinds of pampering,” she smiled handing me envelope. “This is a check from the studio, it was all in the contract.”

 

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