5. Andrea
The smartest decision I’d made during my marriage was to keep my professional career. At least this way I still had my independence and wasn’t left without an income going forward. Being a computer programmer who worked from home allowed me to deep dive into work without leaving the house.
It was a darn good thing I didn’t have to go anywhere since I had paparazzi camped across the street. While the cheating scandal had garnered a fair amount of attention, kissing Deacon Miller up on stage had catapulted me into tabloid-stalking territory.
It had been tempting to visit home, a small town in Kansas, but since my mom and Jeff’s mom held a joint belief that I should forgive him and move past this “phase Jeff is going through,” that wasn’t the best place for me. It was apparently tough for them to comprehend our breakup was permanent.
So when Ollie suggested a massage appointment on Friday morning, I jumped at the chance for some relaxation. As I sat in his SUV on the way to the massage spa, my muscles practically twitched in anticipation.
“You didn’t have to drive me today, Ollie. Gifting me the massage was nice enough.” Now that people knew my car, it was better for me not to drive it, but I could’ve taken an Uber.
“It’s on my way to one of my own appointments, so it was no trouble. And there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“If it’s about doing an interview to tell my side of the story, I haven’t decided whether to do it yet.”
It was bad enough I was contractually obligated to go to the season wrap party on Saturday night, but the producers wanted me to do a sit-down to talk about the affair. I wasn’t sure I had it in me. On the other hand, I didn’t love the idea of Jeff being the only one telling the story. Not only did he blame me for his inability to be faithful, but he seemed to relish the opportunity.
I’d written a quick Instagram post letting people know I appreciated their support and to please respect my privacy, but it seemed the latter was impossible.
“You should do what makes you feel comfortable when it comes to the interview. But as for the wrap party, I was thinking perhaps you might take a date.”
“It’s sweet of you to offer to go with me, Ollie, but?—”
He chuckled. “No, dear, not me. Deacon Miller.”
The mere sound of his name caused butterflies to take flight in my stomach.
Ollie pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be an urban oasis tucked in between large office buildings. He killed the engine while I sat there stunned in the passenger seat.
“In what world would he ever be my date?”
“In this one, love. He can give you the details when you get inside.”
“He’s here? At the spa?”
My hands flew to my bare face. I had no makeup on, my hair was twisted up in a messy bun, and my yoga pants had seen better days. I’d been on my way to have a massage, not to see Deacon freaking Miller.
“What could you be thinking, Ollie?”
He chuckled. “I’m thinking people went nuts after your kiss on stage and they’re still talking about it. So why not capitalize on it by spending time together?”
“You want me to take the hottest rock star in the world as my fake date?”
“Why don’t you start by talking to him about it first. Off you go.”
“Off I go,” I muttered, getting out of the car and thinking it was easy for him to say. His legs weren’t shaking.
If I wasn’t nervous, I might’ve appreciated the tranquility of the soft sage and lavender colors of the spa lobby. Glancing around, I had no idea how this meeting was supposed to take place. It wasn’t as if Deacon was there waiting on one of the sofas.
“Good morning,” the receptionist greeted with a big smile on her face.
“Good morning. My name is Andrea Foreman. I have a massage appointment.”
Her face didn’t change at hearing my name. Was she unaware I was here to meet Deacon? Maybe Ollie had been mistaken. Then I was shown to my room, and there the rock star was, sitting in the corner chair.
Damn. He was even hotter than I’d remembered. Dressed casually in ripped jeans and a vintage Jimmi Hendrix T-shirt, he reduced me to simply staring. Although I’d recently seen him on stage, I’d been in such shock at the time I hadn’t taken in all the sexy details. Like the way his brown hair was styled in “rock-star chic,” longer on top and tousled in an effortless way.
His sea-blue eyes reflected brightly beneath dark lashes, but it was the scruff on his baby face which truly sold the rocker image.
I unconsciously held my breath until my lungs demanded air. Slowly drawing in a breath, I forced my gaze not to focus on his tattooed, muscular arms.
“Hi, Andi.”
“Nobody calls me that,” I blurted out.
His grin was straight out of any woman’s fantasy. “Perhaps you’d do me the honor of letting me be the first.”
His charm factor was off the charts, making it difficult to deny him the simple request. “We’ll see.”
Glancing back toward the door, I wondered if the massage therapist would interrupt us and whether I’d be relieved or disappointed when she did.
“I told them I needed ten minutes to speak with you before they begin your session. Hopefully Ollie told you I was here, and I’m not coming off as a total stalker.”
“He did.”
“Have a seat, please.” He motioned toward the other chair with his hand.
I couldn’t help tugging at my faded blue T-shirt. It had seen better days.
His eyes tracked my movements. “I apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” But the way he held my gaze as if he was attempting to read my thoughts did fray my nerves. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Straight to the point. I like it.”
“It’s a new skill I’m trying out.” I’d no longer pretend I was comfortable with the boundaries other people set for me.
“I thought perhaps we could help each other out. You as my date to my stepbrother’s wedding tonight, and I as your plus-one for your season wrap party tomorrow night.”
“Why would you bring someone you don’t know to a wedding?” And why take a date at all, for that matter, if there was no one he was currently seeing?
He leaned forward, his knees almost touching mine. “I need to sell the fact I’m in a romantic relationship. Given the buzz around our kiss, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to believe that I could be starting one with you.”
My brows shot up. “Why do you ‘need’ people to believe you’re in a romantic relationship?”
He exhaled harshly. “My ex is marrying my stepbrother and seems to believe I still harbor feelings for her. By showing up with a date, especially one the public are excited to see me with, it sends a message.”
His ex was marrying into his family. And I thought dealing with my ex was bad. “Do you have to go to the wedding at all?”
“No, but my mom asked me to, and although I think Bryce is an idiot for marrying Nina, he’s a good guy. If I don’t show up, she’d tell everyone it’s because I couldn’t bear to watch the woman I love marry someone else.”
Although there was a healthy dose of sarcasm in his last sentence, I had to ask. “And do you still love her?”
“I never did.” He sighed, softening his blunt response. “We dated all of three months, and most of it was long distance. I was honest and upfront when I realized her feelings were developing into something deeper than mine.” He paused. “And I’ll be honest with you. I’m leaving Monday for Australia.”
“In other words, we fake it for one weekend only.”
“There’d be nothing fake about our spending time together, Andi, but yes, that time would be limited.”
Damn, the way he dropped the newly adopted nickname hit me below the belt. There were many reasons to say no, but a brief escape from reality would be refreshing.
“How would we leave things? For the press?” The last thing I needed was more breakup drama in my life.
“We’d tell the press we had an incredible weekend hanging out together and that we’re friends who will stay in touch—which I hope would be true.”
It sounded amazing on the surface, but Saturday would potentially be an emotional shitshow for me. “Seeing my soon-to-be ex-husband with his new mistress and not at all concerned about my feelings is bound to put me straight out of the running for date of the year.”
“All the more reason to have someone there with you. Although I have to ask you the same question you asked me. Why go to the season wrap party at all? Can’t you fight the contract?”
“I think it’ll be easier to go to the party and then be done with the show forever.” Ollie had tried to find a way for me to get out of that part of the signed agreement, but ultimately it would involve lawyers, and I already had one too many these days. I didn’t need another attorney running up an hourly bill rate.
“You won’t return for another season?”
“Not a chance.” I’d done the show out of love for Jeff. For the first time since the bombshell of his cheating had dropped, a weight started to lift. I would no longer have to allow my life to be chronicled for everyone to watch.
“Although Ollie tells me I should wait to tell production I’m leaving for good until after I do an exclusive interview—that is, if I decide to do the interview at all.”