Chapter 21
“I’m here once you’re ready to talk.”
Kat stared out the cab window as they pulled up to her apartment building. She couldn’t remember LA looking so gloomy. Early evening, and already the sun was nowhere in sight.
“Kat,” Marsha’s voice came again. “At some point, we need to discuss the upcoming weeks. We can’t just stop production altogether.
She managed a nod.
“Stan, why don’t you help us take her things inside?”
Kat pushed open the door and moved numbly to the trunk of the cab. The team had divided for the trip back. Marsha and Stan accompanying Kat while Tina, the other cameraperson, had flown back with Randall and… and the imposter twelve hours later.
She shook her head each time she considered the truth of it.
Her social experiment husband hadn’t really been Duke.
He was Zander, the angry brother she didn’t even care for.
Only he’d made her care for him. And he’d lied to do it.
In fact, Kat didn’t know whether Zander had been acting like himself or trying to behave like Duke in order to keep up the ruse.
Hot knots of emotion threatened to overtake her at the thought, but she pushed them back. It wasn’t time yet.
While packing up her things at the beach house, and then the bungalow, Kat had conjured a barrier to stop her emotions from bubbling over.
The shield was nothing so strong as a screw-on lid, rather a thin layer of plastic wrap, clinging to the edges while a pool of her emotions frothed and foamed just beneath.
She’d let them out once she wasn’t surrounded by taxi drivers, fellow passengers, and half the production crew. Kat felt a level of pride for containing herself this far.
Of course, two minor breakdowns had snuck in during her trip home. One in the ladies restroom at the international airport where a woman tapped on the other side of the stall and asked, in broken English, if she needed help.
The other came on in the box-sized restroom on the airplane when Kat accidentally looked herself in the mirror. The woman who’d been duped yet again. A woman who was not-so-smart after all.
And perhaps that was the worst part of it. Kat didn’t have gifts of flirtatious charm or charismatic allure. What Kat Morgan was known for—what her identity hinged on—was her smarts. And they’d let her down in a very big way yet again.
The acknowledgment was a fresh jab of its own. That really was the crux of it all. Fool me once, shame on you. But fool me twice…
It’s not time yet, she reminded herself as the tears threatened to come. She pictured sealing the plastic wrap tightly in place, keeping the pain out for just a little bit more. She could do this. She could wait until she was alone.
The march to her apartment was a blur. Before she knew it, Kat had led the others through the entrance, up the elevator, and down the short, wide hall to her door.
She motioned to the bedroom while Stan and Marsha filtered inside. The steady sound of suitcase wheels moving over the wood changed once Stan rolled it over her bedroom rug.
“I’m hanging your dress on the door,” Marsha announced.
Kat’s aimless gaze flittered into focus on the enclosed case holding her wedding gown. The sight was a butcher knife hovered over her protective covering.
“On second thought,” Marsha said, lifting the hook from the door’s edge, “I’ll tuck it inside your closet.”
Stan shuffled out of the room and gave her a partial smile. “I hope you work things out, hon.”
“Thanks.”
Marsha was next to step through the doorway. While Stan had taken on Kat’s somber disposition with slow steps and quiet tones, Marsha kept her paces swift and her shoulders high. “Why don’t I meet you in the cab in just a minute?” she said to Stan.
“Sure.” Stan gave Kat a subtle wave, headed out the open door of her apartment, and closed the door behind him.
Marsha swept her shiny black hair behind one ear and lifted her chin. “Your contract says that you agree to live together for the eight-week duration,” she started. “That means you can take a few days to yourself to figure…”
Marsha continued to speak, and while Kat was very aware that the woman was carrying on—explaining important details pertaining to the contract—Kat couldn’t focus on any of it. She was too busy picturing the recent conversation she’d had with him. He’d asked her to move into his place.
It brought a fresh question to her mind. One she couldn’t hold back. “What was he planning on doing?” she blurted. Her voice sounded scratchy, almost foreign with as quiet as Kat had been during their travels back to LA.
Marsha stopped talking and tipped her head. “What was that?”
A clock ticked in the background. The brass one Dad gave her with the butterfly on it. The vision poked a hole in the covering. What was Dad thinking about all of this? “My family doesn’t know I’m back yet, right?”
“Right.” Marsha nodded, but kept the inquiry on her face with a furrowed brow.
“Good. What do you think he was thinking?” Kat shook her head, gulped, and forced herself to say his real name aloud. “What do you think Zander was planning to do? He asked me to move into his place when we got back. But how would we have done that without exposing who he really was?”
Marsha sucked in a breath and looked out the window. “That’s a good question. If you ask me, it shows that he was planning to tell you soon, like he said. He couldn’t very well hide his identity in his own home with all the mail and things. And of course the production crew has Duke’s address.”
Kat tried to let that sink in. “You think if he wanted to keep it going he would’ve suggested we live here?”
“Yes. But I don’t think he planned to keep up the ruse in LA. He said he was planning to tell you, and I believe him.”
Kat nodded, more out of obligation than agreement.
“On behalf of the network, our team of experts, and all involved in Married at First Meet, I apologize that we didn’t catch this sooner.
” Marsha cleared her throat. “I’ll give you until Saturday to…
sort through this. But then we should discuss production plans, along with modifications we can make in your contract. ”
“Okay.”
Marsha headed for the door, but spun back before reaching for the knob. “You should know that Zander was very passionate about his feelings for you. In fact, I had to get forceful with him so he’d give you some space, but I hope you’ll be willing to hear him out soon.”
Easy to say from a hardnosed woman like her. “Would you be willing to hear him out?” Kat asked. “If you were in my place?”
Marsha let out a big sigh and fixed her gaze back toward the window. “If I wanted him in my life I would. For what it’s worth, I believe that he really does love you.”
Kat barely kept it together long enough to hear the door close behind Marsha. The woman’s words were like a dangling carrot, one that might hover perpetually out of her reach.
There was nothing Kat wanted more than to have that magical moment back—where he’d declared his love for her and she’d done the same.
But it was ruined now.
How could he lie to her if he loved her?
How could he let her look like such a fool for all of America to see?
But a more pressing question came rushing in next.
One that ripped her barrier clean down the center.
In came the crippling crash of everything she’d held back—devastation, humiliation, and loss.
Her body curled beneath the pressure as she sank to the floor, letting it have at her at last. Eventually she might get past the shock and hurt of what he’d done, but how… how would she ever stop loving him?