Page 17 of Accidentally Wed to My Enemy

“Thought I heard you out there.”

I put my phone away. “Yeah, hey, just got here.”

She stepped back. “Come in. I thought we’d order room service. I don’t know about you, but I’m so hungry my teeth hurt.”

“Now you mention it, yeah. All that running, I’m starving.”

Lacey groaned. “Right? He couldn’t have warned us? The call sheet I got only listed the beach scene.” She stretched out on the couch and reached for the desk phone. “Do you know what you want, or…?”

I was too hungry to waste time scanning the menu, so I just shrugged. “Whatever you’re having.”

She pressed a button and waited, and I heard a voice down the line. Lacey smiled like folks do when they want to sound friendly.

“Two steak dinners,” she said. “Potatoes, extra gravy. And some of that chocolate cake with the big, juicy cherries.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard her say ‘steak.’ I’d been afraid she’d order two salads, and I’d have to eat again once we were finished.

Lacey hung up and her faux-bright smile faded. She sat up to make room for me, and I sat down beside her. I’d never been the self-conscious type, but I took care where I sat, not so close I’d crowd her or so far I’d seem aloof. Lacey had had a rough day, and she still looked rattled; her posture tense, her green eyes worried. I wondered if I should say something to start us off right, something about her performance. How stunning she’d been. Shehadbeen good once she’d quit acting nervous.

“We’ve got two problems,” she said, before I could speak. She counted them off on her freshly scrubbed fingers. “First, convincing the public our marriage is real. Then we need to give it a positive spin.”

I nodded. “The crew isn’t buying our act. And once they start talking…”

“Yeah. We’re screwed.” Lacey reached for her tablet and tapped it awake. “The press is all good so far, but socials are so-so. A lot of folks on the fence — can we work? Will we make it? No one’s calling us fake, but here. Look at this.” She passed me her tablet and I frowned at the screen.

“What am I looking at?”

“The third comment down, from Jordan Bronson.”

“If they wanted the hype, their timing is perfect: the big wedding now, then all the fighting. Then they divorce right before the premiere. It’s a whole tabloid odyssey, nine months of headlines, and that movie they’re in gets plugged every time.” I tossed the tablet aside. “Screw you, Jordan Bronson.”

“I didn’t see a lot like that, but nasty hot takes have a way of spreading,” Lacey said. “We can’t let the story tip toward drama.”

“So we’ll glut them with cute stuff till we get boring.” I stood up, restless. “We’ll go out to brunch and I’ll feed you a cream puff, and tip off the paps to make sure we go viral. And we’ll take tons of selfies to post through our downtime, so it looks like we spend every second together.”

“How about on set?” Lacey stood too, and went to the window. She pressed her brow to the glass like she had a headache. “They thought it was weird when I showed up without you.”

My mouth puckered up like I’d sucked on a lemon. “I heard that too, couple of gossiping techs. Wondering why we weren’t friendlier on set.”

“Friendlier, huh.” Lacey’s tone turned acid. “What are we, Ken and Barbie? ‘Make them kiss, make them kiss!’”

I chuckled. “We got away with it today, with the scenes we were shooting. They thought we were trying to stay in character. But tomorrow we’re doing those romantic flashbacks. We’ve got to seem at least, uh…” I cleared my throat. “Comfortable with one another, in a physical sense.”

Lacey made a choking sound. “You mean, like we’ve fucked.”

“I wasn’t going to say it, but yeah. Like that.”

“So, what, like we’d…” Lacey trailed off, her neck turning pink. I wasn’t the blushing type, but I knew how she felt. It was weird being here with her, talking like this.

“You should take the lead,” I said. “I don’t want to suggest something, and you think I’m taking advantage.”

“So I should suggest it, and then you’ll thinkIam?”

“I wouldn’t. I won’t. How about… okay.” I groaned, feeling foolish. “How about we declare a sort of… verbal sex amnesty? For the next thirty minutes, we agree to talk options, and not sue each other for workplace harassment?”

Lacey hitched a deep breath. “Fine, but you start.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course she’d make me start. Still, one of us had to, and I did have ideas. I sat back down so I wouldn’t have to face her.

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