say, you performed well. You both did. Million Dollar Marriage is shaping up to be the biggest hit of the season!”
Luke grits his teeth. “Okay. But . . .”
Eloise gives him an annoyed look. “Sweetie. Did you even read the contract? If not, I’ll lay it out for you.”
She talks to him like he’s an idiot. Like he’s just a hunk of good-looking meat and doesn’t have a brain, which makes me hate her all the more. I clench my fists, but I’m all but invisible to her.
“The gag rule is pretty solid. You two are contractually obligated to remain mum and not disclose anything about this season until after the finale. That means that you two may not be seen together or communicate in any way from now until December seventeenth. Understood?”
My heart catches in my throat. Luke speaks before I can find the words. “No fucking way.”
“I’m sorry,” Eloise teases, clinging to his formidable biceps, and that does it. I instantly hate her, like I’ve never hated anyone. “I didn’t realize you were doing this because you didn’t want the money?”
I swallow. I possessively grab his arm and take him away from her. “It’s okay,” I murmur, trying to smile for him. “It’s only a little while. And nothing’s going to change this, right?”
He nods distractedly, still scowling at Eloise. He manages a smile and reaches out to touch me, but suddenly Eloise grabs his arm again, giving me a condescending look. “It starts at the conclusion of on-location filming. Thus, now.” She starts to drag him away. “Come on, stud. Don’t make me put you in violation of the contract.”
No. No, this is all wrong.
“Fuck, you mean I can’t even say goodbye to her?” he says as she guides him toward a waiting limousine. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
Apparently not.
They lead him into the back of the limo, and he turns to wave at me. I wave a little, and then the door closes, and he’s gone. I can’t see him through the tinted window.
December 17. A lot can happen between now and then.
I pick up my bag and wander back toward the parking lot, fielding congratulations from people, trying to ignore the massive hole that’s opening in my heart, growing bigger and bigger by the second. One of the staff members greets me and gets me my own limousine to the airport. I hope I’ll catch a glimpse of Luke on the way, but apparently they’re dead serious about keeping us apart. I don’t see him anywhere.
I have a sleeping woman who hogs the armrest on my way back to Atlanta. No one to talk to, to share music with, or with a broad shoulder I can sink into while I sleep. The flight back goes on for a miserable eternity.
By the time I get home and the cab drops me off at my apartment, it’s after midnight. Courtney isn’t expecting me, since we had no idea when we’d be allowed to come home. I left my keys at home, so I have to ring the doorbell. A sleepy-looking Joe, in rumpled boxers, opens the door and lets out a surprised, “Hey!”
He opens the door a little more, and Courtney is there. “Oh my god! Look at you! You have color! You no longer look like a zombie from the living dead!”
She runs to me and hugs me so hard, and suddenly I’m crying, and it’s not because of the living dead comment. I don’t know why. I had an amazing experience. Luke and I won the whole fucking game. We’ve agreed to stay married. I should be floating on air.
But I can’t stop blubbering like an idiot. I cry so much I’m in danger of getting snot all over her T-shirt.
“Aw, honey, what? Did you come in last place? Embarrass yourself on national television? What?”
It occurs to me that they don’t know because the season hasn’t started airing yet. I can’t believe that after all we’ve been through, I have to sit and wait and keep my mouth shut about it. Even to my best friend. “I can’t tell you,” I wail. “It’s in my contract.”
She puts an arm around me and brings me into the kitchen. She motions to Joe to put on a pot of tea. “Sure you can. You just have to make sure that the people you tell aren’t going to blab it to the world. You know Joe and I will keep it under wraps.”