Jason sighs. “Yeah. You’re right.”
I don’t even like being on camera onJason’sshow, where I know we can edit footage and show whatever we want.The thought of being constantly under the cold gaze of the lens, of having to stress about what I’m saying and doing—
I never should have signed that waiver. But I understood that there would be times I might be in the background of a shot for, like, two seconds, and it would be ridiculous to make them blur me out or have to re-shoot.They would have made Jason hire someone whowouldsign it or replaced us all entirely.
I didn’t think Ineededto worry about the waiver. Never in a million years did I imagine they’d have any interest in making the show aboutme.
“Look,” Jason says. “I can’t go anywhere. I’m under contract to stay the whole week. You signed a contract too, but I have full control over the employment of my crew. You can go back home, and as long as they get their climbing footage, there’s nothing they can do about it.”
He’s right, but that makes me feel even more sick. Going home without him, sitting in my apartment and dealing with the aftermath of that fight alone. Knowing he’s dealing with it alone up here.
“No,” I say. “I can’t handle not being with you while things are like this.” I snuggle closer to him. I’m feeling needy as hell right now, so whatever. Our relationship is more important than anything, even my hatred of being in the spotlight.
He kisses the top of my head. “That’s what I want, too.”
That settles it. We finish getting ready for bed, and we hold each other in our double sleeping bag. I soak in the warmth of him wrapped around me.
And I try unsuccessfully not to think about how on earth we’re going to survive the rest of this week.
If we don’t figure out what’s wrong between us, I wonder if we’re going to last that long.
We’ve barely stepped out of the tent the next morning when we’re accosted by Rich.Thankfully, he’s not flanked by cameras—hedoesn’t have to be filmed when he doesn’t want to be.
“So, guys. I know you’re not thrilled about the situation, but I think this can work to your benefit.” He sounds like a placating sleaze-ball. Was he this way before and I didn’t notice (or care) when it wasn’t directed at me?
Probably. He does have to stroke the egos of Not-Wives on a regular basis.
“To our benefit, huh?” Jason clearly isn’t buying this, either.
Rich smiles in what I’m sure he thinks is a charming way. He’s an average-looking guy, but one of those dudes who thinks his job and brand-new Mercedes make him a California ten.
Sadly, these types of guys generally get enough female attention to encourage their entitlement.
“Exactly,” he says. “It’s no secret that you two are going through something. And hey, I get it.” He puts up his palms, all innocence. “Relationships aren’t easy, man.They take work.”
“Uh-huh,” Jason says flatly.
“But it turns out that we happen to have a couples therapist right here on set,” Rich continues.
I raise my eyebrow. Really? On a show about already divorced women, why would they have a—
Oh no.
“Monroe, you mean.” A headache is forming between my eyes.
Rich seems thrilled that I guessed this. “Right! It’s the perfect solution. You two get help, you know, to keep the old love train chugging”—here Jason looks like he might punch him, which I would hardly blame him for—“and we get some footage of arealcouple working outrealissues.”
I’m so sure that’s what he’s hoping to get out of this.
I cross my arms. “Too bad you don’t have arealtherapist. You have a self-appointed life coach who wrote a book calledRetailTherapy:Take Back Your Life One Blouse at aTime.”
Rich shrugs. “It was aNew YorkTimesBestseller.”
I know this; I might have come very close to buying a copy myself, but I’m not about to admit that to Rich.
“It doesn’t give her a degree or any real expertise in relationship problems. Which I’m not saying we have,” I add too quickly.So convincing, Emily.
Rich gives a smarmy, sympathetic look. “All I’m saying is that she’s right here, and—”
