Selena
“Samantha! Samantha!” I yelled.
Why haven’t I fired her yet? I shouldn’t have to yell to get the attention of my “personal” assistant!
She stepped into my bedroom. “Yes, Miss Ross?”
“My water isn’t at room temperature. Does it feel like winter in my room?”
“No...”
“So why is there ice in my glass? Remake it and get me the latest Us Weekly.”
“Yes, Miss Ross,” she walked away.
I’ll fire her once she brings it back.
I turned the TV on and flipped to the E channel. I wasn’t too worried about the so-called “scandalous” pictures, but I knew their coverage would be indicative of how the other news outlets would report them.
“Good afternoon everyone, and thank you for watching E News!” Ryan Seacrest sat at the news desk in a dark gray suit. “Our top story of the day, of the year really, is Selena Ross and director Phillip Hartford! Us Weekly released the photos last night and both A-listers are in some very compromising positions! Here with the scoop is Us Weekly editor Shannon Mason. Good afternoon, Shannon.”
“Good afternoon, Ryan!” she beamed.
“Tell us, what exactly transpired over the past few weeks and how did you guys keep it under wraps for so long?”
She clasped her hands together. “Well, we weren’t exactly sure what was going on at first. Our photographers happened to be taking some test shots at Gramercy Park and saw what appeared to be the two of them kissing on a bench.”
A grainy picture of Phillip running his hands through my hair appeared on screen. Another picture, one of him lying on top of me, in the back seat of his convertible, appeared next.
“Why didn’t you immediately release the photos?” Ryan asked.
“We were trying to make sense of it. We knew it was sensitive information, so we decided to put a private team on them to see what was really going on.”
“And you found that this was a full blown affair?”
More images of Phillip and I floated across the screen—one of him applying sun lotion to my bare back, one of me leaning over to kiss him in my car, one of us frolicking in the ocean after dark.
“Yes. Definitely,” the woman smiled into the camera. “Two months before her wedding to Matt Sterling is when this all started, at least that’s what we believe.”
A clip of me slapping Matt at the wedding began to play over and over on the green screen behind the two of them.
“Do you think that’s part of the reason why Matt left her at the altar?” Ryan raised his eyebrow. “Do you think he knew about this?”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but sources tell me he was having doubts around that time.”
Ryan sighed. “Poor Matt Sterling! I guess we had it all wrong! We’ll be back to discuss more of Selena Ross’ scandalous affair after the break! Trust me, you don’t want to miss it!”
I changed the channel. They were discussing my affair on “The View.” I changed the channel again. My picture was on “Good Morning America” and the host was shouting angrily into the camera.
I turned the TV off and threw the remote across the room.
I immediately googled myself and saw that every news article that popped up was about my alleged affair: “Selena Ross Not So Innocent After All,” “Selena Ross’s Newest Role: The Home-wrecker,” “Did Selena Ross Cheat on Matt Sterling Before Her Wedding?” “Selena Ross Caught with Older Director,” “Selena ‘Toss’-ing Tongues with Director Phillip Hartford, Cheated on Matt Sterling.”
This isn’t even true!
I needed to talk to someone. I needed someone to listen to me and be on my side.
I called Phillip. It rang three times before he answered in a hushed whisper.
“Are you free to talk right now?” I asked.
“Not really,” he mumbled. “Say what you have to say quickly. My wife is on her way back.”
“Did you mean what you said about leaving her? Now that everything is out in the open, when will your divorce be finalized? Can we be together now?”
“Selena, it’s more complicated than that…I have kids.”
“You said you would get them to understand. You said you loved me…Do you still love me?”
“Selena,” he sighed and I heard a woman’s voice in the background. “Who is that on the phone?”
Phillip immediately changed his tone. “No, Henry. I won’t be coming into work for a few months. I need to straighten some things out with my family.”
He hung up and my phone vibrated. A text from him: “I don’t think we should talk for a while.”
My heart dropped. I curled into a ball and tried not to cry.