Chapter 3
1647 Words
Swiping my key, I hurry into the hotel room I’m sharing with Molly, then slam the door and bend over to catch my breath.
“Molly!”
She comes out of the bathroom wearing a T-shirt and shorts, her hair wet from the shower. I rush to grab all my discarded clothes sprinkled over the floor and furniture from us trying on items last night and toss them in my suitcase.
“What’s going on?” She sits on her bed, crossing her legs, and dries her hair with the towel. “Oh, I want details about pretty boy.”
“Pack your stuff. We need to take an earlier flight. I’ll explain on the way to the airport.”
“What? You want to leave early? At least give me something then,” she whines.
My head falls back, and I finally release a breath. I can’t keep this to myself. “Turns out pretty boy is now my husband.”
Her mouth falls open and she stares at me.
“Yeah, guess I’m Mrs. Logan Stone now.” I hold up my left hand although I left the ring at his penthouse.
“Isn’t there supposed to be a ring?” she asks, pointing at my finger.
I walk over to my bed and flop down face-first with a groan.
Molly laughs. “Nice joke, but you just missed April Fool’s Day.” She shifts to get up.
“I’m serious, Mol, I married him last night,” I mumble into the sheets.
“No way.” I know my best friend well enough to know that she now believes me, but she still can’t one-hundred percent believe I’d do something like this.
“Yes.” I flip over and stare at the ceiling. “I let some man in blue suede shoes marry me to a complete stranger.” I throw my arm over my face.
This happens to other people. People I report about on my gossip radio show in my small town. Now, if anyone gets wind of this, they’re all going to be pointing fingers at me and telling me how they told me one day karma would bite me in the ass. I’m sure my stepbrother Cade will be the first in line.
“Okay, I want all the details and I want them now.” Molly lies down next to me on my bed. “You cannot leave me hanging.”
“If I could remember, I’d tell you, but the problem is I barely remember anything.”
She nudges me. “You’re such a liar. I can’t believe you’re holding out on me.”
I hold up my hand. “I swear.”
Her smile dims because just like I know when she lies—she scratches her nose with her pointer finger—she knows when I’m speaking untruths. “I never would’ve thought it’d be you.”
“Right? I’m supposed to be in your spot, and you’re supposed to be in mine.”
“Whoa, now.” Molly’s forehead crinkles.
“You’re the wild one. The one who believes in love and marriage and happily ever after. I don’t want to ever get married.”
“Well, too late for that.”
“It’s like we’re in some Freaky Friday revamp where we switched places. I don’t do things like this.” My voice grows louder because no matter what, everyone in my family will find out about this and I’m going to be razzed for the rest of my life.
“If only.” She pinches me.
I bring my arm closer to me. “Ouch!”
“Yep, we’re still in reality.” She smiles and nudges me with her toe. “Stop beating yourself up. So what? You married a hot stranger. Could be worse. You’ll get it annulled and no one will ever know. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.”
“That’s the worst part. I’m not sure he wants to end the marriage.” I sit up but bury my head in my hands.
“Hate to bring this up now, but where is your hubby?”
I groan at her pet name for a man I only know as someone who beats people up as a career choice. “He went to talk to his manager and get me a coffee.”
“And yet you’re here.”
I give her a look.
She sighs. “You shouldn’t let your parents’ divorce dictate your feelings about this.”
I’m the first to admit I have trust issues because of my father cheating on my mom. But that’s what happens when the first man you love falls so far down from the pedestal you placed him on. You tend to think every man is going to follow.
I peek at her through my fingers. “Right, because marrying a public figure like Logan would be great for me with all my issues. I mean, the women hanging off of him all the time, temptation at every turn. I might as well just reserve my spot in therapy now.”
“Maybe you should give this a shot. He seems like a sweet guy. You’re being way too hard on him. I went out to the balcony a few times and you guys never even noticed me, you were so enraptured with one another.”
I lock eyes with her for a moment. She’s right. Remembering the earlier part of the night, I recall that he really is a great conversationalist. And then another memory hits.
“Ugh!” I bury my head in my hands, wishing I could pull out my hair.
“What?” Molly asks, but there’s a hint of humor in her tone.
“I told him I want to start a podcast,” I whine. “I think I asked him to be on it.”
She laughs and runs her hand down my shoulder and upper arm. “Relax. The man married you. Being on your podcast is just part of his husbandly duties.”
I can’t believe I told a complete stranger about my dream of interviewing celebrities so they can tell their truth and reveal different sides of themselves. I haven’t even told most of my family. My face feels as if I fell asleep in the desert for three days. “Molly, I need to go home.”
“Running away won’t make this go away. I think you should deal with this now.”
I get up off the bed. “No way. He can send divorce papers up to Alaska. I’ll sign them and that will be that.”
She sits on the bed, not moving, looking at me as though I’m crazy.
“Come on. Let’s get to the airport.”
“But our flight isn’t until late tonight. I want to gamble a bit before we leave.”
I shake my head. “We need to get to the airport and get on an earlier flight.”
“So you marry a stranger and it cuts our girls’ trip short?” She stands and heads over to her suitcase.
“Well, you should’ve been there to stop me. Where were you last night anyway?”
She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “One minute you were on the balcony and the next you were gone. I called you and you answered sounding happy. Said you were out having fun with Logan and you’d see me in the morning.”
She folds her clothes while I opt to go with the panicked toss-them-in-the-suitcase route. Who cares about wrinkles at a time like this? All I can think of is what my mom will say when she finds out. No matter what, I have to keep this news as quiet as possible.
Molly’s phone pings and she takes a break from packing to sit on the bed and scroll through her phone. “You could’ve married worse, that’s for sure.”
“There will be plenty of time to look at your phone after we’re at the airport.” I zip my suitcase and head to the bathroom.
“Are you sure you don’t want to shower? I mean, you smell a little like a brothel.”
I stop short and stare at her. She laughs and holds up her hands.
“I don’t even want to know how you know what a brothel smells like.” I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face at least.
Standing in front of the mirror, I look at my reflection. Black mascara is smudged around my eyes and my hair is stringy and dirty. Molly’s right that I should clean up, but I’m fairly sure if I stick around Vegas, Logan will find me.
Once I’m safe and sound in Alaska, I can reach out to him or his people and get the divorce or annulment going. By then he’ll have come to his senses and seen that he was drunk and really doesn’t want anything to do with some small-town girl who despises what he does for a living.
Partially groomed, I walk out of the bathroom with my toiletries in hand. “Better?”
She doesn’t laugh and doesn’t crack a smile. Her gaze rises from the phone, and she hands it over. “Maybe we should stop and get a hat for you on the way to the airport?”
The first thing I notice on her phone is the picture of Logan and me walking out of the chapel. Then another picture of the ring, and another of us at the chapel with Elvis between us. “I look horrendous.”
“You look pretty. I mean, pretty drunk, but gorgeous.” Molly smiles. “But if it’s on the gossip mill sites, you can bet…”
My stomach drops. “Marla already knows.”
My love for celebrity gossip comes from my mom. I remember from a young age that instead of reading the newspaper every morning, my mom dove into the online gossip sites. It’s her one and only vice, though she’ll deny it if you ever ask her.
“Let’s get you home and showered and prepped with answers for Marla.”
I stare at the picture of Logan and me. He really is a good-looking guy. My stomach stirs with butterflies, but I shake my head because men like him aren’t the ones you settle down with. I told myself a long time ago if I ever got married, it would be to a quiet man who was the complete opposite of my father. And Logan sure as hell isn’t that man.
Right now, I can’t worry about Logan. I need to worry about dodging my mom until I can figure this all out. So I need to go make an appearance at my brothers’ brewery and get out of there before she shows up.
- Writer
