Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)

“Okay, okay. Well, I’m CFO and I had to go on an undercover assignment once, remember?”


I tried to sort through my memories, but I hardly ever paid attention in board meetings, and the only undercover assignments I recalled were completed by groups of interns. I remembered him being in the hospital for three weeks when he went to our test store near the Chesapeake Bay, but I couldn’t remember what happened.

“Umm,” I shrugged. “Vaguely.”

“Do you remember me falling off a rig and getting stung by jellyfish? Ten jellyfish! Do you remember them stinging me on my ass? I couldn’t sit down for two weeks!”

“You suggested this?” I leaned forward in my chair. “Is this your idea of revenge?”

“One of them stung my face! I couldn’t eat anything! You should’ve seen how swollen my lips were! I could barely—”

“You volunteered me didn’t you? Didn’t you!”

“Yes! It was me!”

I sighed. “Why are we still friends, Barry?”

“Because I meet every requirement on your checklist,” he rolled his eyes. “Do you need an intern to help you pack?”

“For a one-week trip? I think I’m more than capable of doing that myself. Thanks. North Carolina has nice stores, right? I’ll just buy whatever I forget.”

“North Carolina? One week?” he bent over laughing. “The newest expansion site is in Fayetteville, Arkansas… And it’s a six week assignment.”

Chapter 5

Selena

I was living in a nightmare.

#Selenaisaslore, #SelenaRosssucks, and #shedidn’tdeserveMatt were all trending on Twitter. I’d officially broken the record for the most mentions in seventy two hours.

The late night TV hosts were brutal. The tabloids, blogs, and former friendly presses were dissecting every moment of my affair with Phillip—comparing our body language on set, deciphering our past interviews, and creating storylines for each and every scandalous picture.

There were numerous paparazzi camped outside my condo, and every couple hours I could hear them shouting, begging for me to make an appearance.

I tried to keep my mind off things by drinking old wine and watching a slew of romantic comedies—Runaway Bride, Sleepless in Seattle, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days—but it was no use. Each time a new set of credits rolled, I remembered I was stuck in reality and almost everyone in America hated me.

What’s worse was that not a single person had called to see how I was doing, how I was coping. I’d wasted countless hours staring at my phone, wondering when someone, anyone, would think to check on me, but my phone never rang.

Still, even though he’d sent me that dismissive text, I knew that Phillip would call to talk to me eventually. I knew he would say he was going to sort things out with the media and come to my defense, and that those divorce papers he’d told me about would be finalized any day now.

I kept replaying our “affair” over and over in my mind, hoping that by the end of the week the public would know how it really happened…

A few months ago, I was sitting alone in my trailer, rehearsing my lines and wishing that the production break would end at any moment.

Since I’d fired my latest assistant hours earlier, I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I picked up my phone and called Matt Sterling.

“Hello?” he answered in that I’m-only-answering-because-this-might-be-the-call-telling-me-that-you’ve-died tone. “What do you want Selena?”

“I just realized that we don’t hang out anymore, Matt! We used to be such good friends before we got engaged! Don’t you want to come to my set and eat lunch with me? Don’t you want to catch up?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Matt, please! I’m really lonely…”

“I don’t care,” he huffed. “Is that the only reason you called me?”

“No, I really want to talk to you in person…I want to go over a few wedding ideas with—”

“Selena, we’ve been through this. I’m only hanging out with you once a week, in full view of the paparazzi, until the wedding. I’m sorry you’re lonely, but…I can’t be your friend right now, especially since you’ve threatened to ruin my career with a stupid domestic violence story if I don’t go through with our wedding…Are you willing to put that threat aside now?”

“No…” I needed the exposure. I needed the press.

“Goodbye then,” he hung up.

I dropped my phone and lay back on my couch. I felt bad for ruining my relationship with Matt—us dating was extremely fun in the beginning, but my career practically took off overnight and I started to like the fame more than I liked him; it was never the same after that.

I heard a knock at my door and mumbled, “Come in, whoever it is.”

“Someone doesn’t sound too happy today,” Phillip walked inside and locked the door.

I immediately sat up and tried not to gape at him.

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