Page 70 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

Sunday afternoon, I go to church with Adam and Evie. Adam’s delivering a message, and the rest of his family is there to hear it. Except for Zach. That doesn’t mean I don’t look over my shoulder for him every time I hear the door to the worship room open.

I want to ask where he is, but I’ve already got a pretty good idea. The Garden of Eatin’ and grocery store are both closed, but Britta’s isn’t. He’s likely minding the shop so everyone else can listen to Adam. The Thomsens are rarely in the same place together. Between the six family members and three businesses to run, at least one of them always has to be manning the grocery store, restaurant, or coffee shop.

I just wish it weren’t Zach today. Pretending to be in love is really getting in the way of our friendship. As much as I enjoy playing out my fantasy on set, I miss my friend when the cameras go off. Things are weird between us, and I’ve barely talked to him off-set since Monday.

Aside from pretending I’m not in love with him whileactinglike I’m falling in love, shooting has been exhausting. Fun and exciting, but I am tired to my core and can barely keep my eyes open during Adam’s short ten-minute message. I don’t even remember what he spoke about thirty seconds after he finishes. And I don’t try to keep my eyes open during Pastor Ruth’s sermon.

When it’s over, Evie invites me to go to the Thomsen’s house with the family. I’m tempted because I’d love to see Heidi, but as tired as I am, I’d just cry. And that won’t be good for her or anybody else.

Still, I ask Evie, as subtly as possible, “Will the whole family be there, or is Zach working all day?”

Her eyes dart from mine to the ground. “He said he had to go to Florence for something after he closes Britta’s. I’m not sure what time he’ll be back.”

“Florence?” I try to keep my face blank, even though the “something” he had to go for is probably Carly. What else would it be?

“He didn’t say it had to do with Carly. There could be a million reasons why,” Evie is quick to add, like maybe she’s read my mind. Or my face isn’t as blank as I think it is.

“Maybe.” I lift my shoulder to my ear. There’s no use pretending I’m not worried he’ll get back together with Carly. Evie and I both know the odds are high, even if neither one of us is saying it out loud.

“Thanks for the invite to dinner.” I pull her into a quick hug. “Next time for sure, but I want to rest my ankle for a couple hours. I’ve got some work to get done today before we’re back on set tomorrow.”

Neither is a complete lie. My ankle does still hurt a little, and I always have work I can do, so I only feel a little guilty as I drive the few miles from the old church at the center of town to Little Copenhagen on the outskirts.

I have orders to put in for tile and carpet, and I’m on the search for a unique mirror or piece of art to hang above the mantle of Granny Neilson’s once the house is done. I’ve got plenty of time to do both since I know the flooring I need is in stock, and I’ve got another month to find something for the mantle.

But doing simple orders and scrolling through local marketplace listings are the kind of mindless stuff I need right now. My brain is already obsessing about what Zach’s doing in Florence. Time to redirect those worries to a more productive place.

I already know I won’t be able to keep my mind from wandering back to Zach, but at least I won’t be in his childhood home where every square inch holds some memory of him. The best thing I can do is keep my distance when we’re off set, so that my feelings for him don’t grow stronger. Once we’re done shooting, I’ll work on restoring our friendship to what it’s been. I have to believe our relationship will go back to being fun and easy when we’re not under pressure to act like we’re in love.

Of course, when we start shooting again in September, who knows what the producers will want? If our fake relationship keeps playing well online, we’ll have to keep it up. And even though we’re not shooting during the summer, I suspect Zach and I will have to keep up appearances for social media.

That thought makes me a little sick. I like our fake relationship too much. When we’re shooting, I don’t have to hide my feelings for Zach. Everything is easier between us. We laugh. We joke. We touch without it being awkward. We’re like we’ve always been when we’re together.

Then the cameras go off, and the acting starts. Everything gets complicated. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to be me. The past three days, I’ve pled exhaustion and run home before he could try to have a real conversation with me.

And now here I am again. Running home instead of spending time with people I love. All because I’m afraid Zach will figure out I’m not pretending to fall for him. He won’t even be at the Thomsens, and that fear kept me from sharing a meal with them.

I walk inside my house with one thought running through my head. Zach and I have never hidden anything from each other. But now I feel like I’m keeping a secret from him. A secret he’ll discover as soon as I look him in the eye at the end of the day when we’re done “acting.” He’ll see that my feelings aren’t pretend, and then he’ll run. Or, worse, be racked with guilt for not feeling the same way. That would be just like him to feel sorry for not loving me back.

We’re only one week in, and this fake dating thing is a disaster. At least an emotional one. Financially, it’s paying off big. I’m gaining hundreds of new followers every day. By next week, the producers are predicting the increase will be in the thousands. There is so much excitement surrounding the show that Jeannie’s already booking appearances on talk shows and fielding calls from companies wanting to do collab projects.

All of it is a dream come true.

Except the part that’s suddenly become my actual dream: a real relationship with Zach. And the fact that all this potential success is built on something that’s not real makes it seem as within reach as Zach loving me back. And that’s so far from reachable, the possibility might as well be locked away in another galaxy.

With a sigh, I scoop my laptop from the kitchen counter and carry it to the couch. I turn on the TV, because this is work I can do while watching a movie. I don’t know which one, as long as it’s not a romance. Maybe a good thrasher movie. I’ve never watched one of those, but it seems like the kind of thing that could keep my mind off Zach, so I play the first one I find.

Twenty minutes later, I have to turn it off. “Good thrasher movie” is, apparently, an oxymoron. If they’re all as bloody, gory, and masochistic as this one, I’m out. I’ll never watch another one.

I scroll through movie options. Anything artsy is out because I don’t want to think. A comedy would be perfect if I thought anything could make me laugh in my current brain state. And, since romance is still not an option, I turn on my trusty standby: a home reno show.

I don’t know how much time passes before I hear knocking at my door. I blink and sit up, realizing I fell asleep. There’s a slobber spot on my shoulder where my sweater has slipped off. Gross. I wipe it away, along with the drool under my chin, just as the door opens.

“Georgia?” Zach calls from the entry.

I quickly check for any more wet spots or signs of sleep. Zach breezes in and sets something on the kitchen table. I hook my arm over the back of the couch, trying to look casual. Like my heart isn’t about to jump out of my chest.

“Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you went to Florence.” A curl falls over my eye. I tuck it behind my ear and wish I’d had time to put on lipstick.

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