Page 31 of Accidentally Wed to My Enemy

Sam closed his eyes again and lolled back in his seat. I tried to ignore him, but I could feel him there, judging. Watching me through his lashes and trying to see who I was, what kind of trouble I might cause for Eric. Would our divorce be a quiet one, or full of drama? Would I take half his house? Accuse him of cheating?

I glanced at my technician. She was massaging my cuticles, taking her time. Pushing the skin back. Rubbing in soothing creams. I thought about asking her to skip to the polish, but I didn’t want to come off ungrateful. Sam’s technician showed up and started in on his feet. He kicked out, ticklish, and apologized profusely.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You didn’t kick me. We’ll just take it slow, and let me know if I’m tickling.”

Sam lay back and held still, but I could see he was tense. When his technician excused herself, he turned my way.

“I wanted to ask you — and feel free not to answer — how does he seem to you?”

I blinked. “Who, Eric?”

“Yes. Is he happy? Are the two of you… It’s all going well, I trust?” His neck had gone red.

“We’re happy,” I said, unsure what he knew. An image flashed unbidden across my mind’s eye: Eric on set, the day of our kiss.About earlier,he’d said, gearing up to reject me. To remind me our kiss had meant nothing at all. I’d done it for him, to spare him the trouble. No, not to spare him. To spare myself. I got why he’d kissed me, of course I did. But I didn’t need to hear it, to feel that sting.

“It’s not like him, is all, to be this impulsive.”

I snapped back to the present. “I’m sorry, impulsive?”

“I’m not saying you’re an impulse. I don’t want to insult you.” Sam tried to sit straighter, but his chair sucked him in. “You wouldn’t know this, but I’ve known Eric since high school. Since we were thirteen. So I’ve been, I suppose you’d say hurt and confused, finding out he got married with the rest of the world. It really isn’t about you, or me judging your choices.”

I gaped as the pieces fell into place — Eric’s fight with his manager that had him so rattled. He hadn’t fought with his manager. He’d fought with his friend. His friend who apparently thought we were real? Thought we’d got married behind his back?

“I’m worried,” said Sam. “He doesn’t do things like this. I’m talkingnever, not once since we met. Eric’s a planner. He takes his time. Diving straight into marriage… Not to diminish your feelings, but I don’t get it. I don’t.”

I squirmed, feeling trapped. This had gone beyond awkward. Erichadn’ttold Sam, and I couldn’t see why not. They were obviously close, so why keep the secret? And now here I was, stuck in the middle, Sam’s hurt on one side, our lie on the other.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

Sam frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“I, uh, I’m late.” I held up my wrist, but I wasn’t wearing a watch. “I thought I had time for this, but excuse me. Excuse me.” I waved at my technician. “I just remembered, I have another appointment. I have to run, but thanks. This was great.”

“You’re leaving right now? Without your polish?”

“I’d have to wipe it off anyway, you know, for work.” I unfolded myself from my marshmallow chair and almost slipped, feet slick with lotion.

“If I’ve made things awkward, you don’t have to leave.” Sam sat up too and swung one leg off his chair. “I can go, if you’d rather.”

“Well, don’t both of you leave.” Sam’s technician steadied him by his leg. I waved him back.

“No, it’s fine, I’m going. You stay and enjoy your mani-pedi. And you can have my massage slot. It’s right after this.”

“Thank you, but—”

I fled without hearing the end of that sentence, through the bead curtain and straight out the door, pausing only to retrieve my phone from its cubby. Dark clouds had rolled in while I was relaxing, and a light rain was falling, warm on my face. I ducked into my limo and headed back to the Seaview, only to spot Eric’s limo pulling up behind mine. He saw me step out and sauntered over to greet me.

“Our shoot got rained out. Your plans get wrecked too?”

“Sort of. Not really. I was having a spa day.”

“A spa day? I’m jealous. I—”

“Eric! Lacey!” Two girls ran over, phones up, recording. One of them looked familiar, like I’d seen her somewhere. Eric stiffened beside me.

“Now? I’m so tired.”

I stole a quick peek at him, and hedidlook exhausted, makeup still smudged under his eyes. I swept my thumbs under my own eyes and Eric caught on, thumbing his face clean as the girls skipped over. One of them thrust her phone at me. Ducked into the shot.

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