Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)(11)

There were only a few times when passion overtook us both and we just couldn’t wait to get to a private area, but for the most part we were very careful.

The day his wife introduced herself to me and congratulated me on winning my Emmys I went into shock. I’d never seen him wear a wedding ring, and although I knew he had children, he never mentioned having a wife.

As much as it pained me to let him go, I went to his trailer that night and told him we were over.

I stood in his room crying, shouting, berating him for not telling me that he had a wife, but he walked over to me and silenced me with a kiss.

“She was stopping by to drop off our daughters, Selena. That’s it,” he hugged me. “We’re in the middle of a divorce, but we’re still being cordial with one another,” he kissed me over and over. “I don’t want her. I want you…I’m in love with you.”

I snapped out of my memory and heard the paparazzi screaming my name outside the window. I wanted to go out there and tell them the truth about the affair, but I knew that wasn’t the right way to handle things.

I shut my eyes and wished that my mom was with me. She’d know exactly what to do in this situation.

She would look into my eyes, which were the mirror image of hers, and give me her honest and heartfelt advice.

She would tell me whether I was wrong or not, whether I deserved an apology or needed to hurry up and give one. Then, as she always did when I came running to her in tears, she’d kiss my forehead and tell me that she loved me no matter what.

I picked up my phone and scrolled down to her number. I almost hit “call,” but I stopped myself. I wasn’t even sure if her number was still the same.

I figured that after four years of acting as if she didn’t exist, she’d probably moved on with her life like I’d moved on with mine.

I turned my phone off and wiped away my tears.

I told myself that I didn’t need my mom, or anyone else for that matter. I could get through this on my own. I just needed to get through six more weeks.

I thought about the other celebrities who endured public scandals and remembered that everything blew over in a matter of months. In fact, despite everyone initially making Matt Sterling out to be the bad guy in our wedding disaster, he was still Hollywood’s favorite heart-throb and the press was fairly lenient with him.

I knew they would be the same with me.

How bad could it really be?

I ordered my driver to take me out for a day of shopping. I decided I would test out my baggy sweat suit disguise at a New Jersey grocery store, and if it worked I would spend the rest of my day in Manhattan for some much needed retail therapy.

I made sure my long blonde wig was secured underneath my pink scarf, pulled down my oversized shades, and walked inside Market Grocery.

I picked up a hand-basket and wandered down the snack aisle. I picked out several packages of cookies, crackers, and cheese puffs. I grabbed a pound of Autumn Wonder coffee and realized I needed ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream.

“Excuse me,” I made my way past two pregnant women who were discussing different peanut butter brands.

I was about to turn the corner but I overheard one of them say my name. I pretended to be interested in a tub of whipped cream and tuned in to their conversation from the other side of the aisle.

“I don’t know what I would do if I was Phillip Hartford’s wife!” one of them said. “That poor woman! She probably had no idea he was cheating! And how dare Selena Ross do that! She was engaged to Matt Sterling! You would think he would be enough for her!”

“I know! Who wouldn’t love to be engaged to Matt Sterling? If I were Phillip Hartford’s wife,” the other one wagged her finger. “I’d hunt Selena Ross down and kill her!”

I gasped.

“Kill her? It’s not that serious!”

“You’re right, you’re right. No use in going to jail over a whore…I’d just run her over with my truck a few times.”

The two women giggled and pushed their baskets past me.

I kept my tears at bay and took several deep breaths. I was sorry for ever eavesdropping.

Once I collected myself, I walked to the freezer section and spotted a woman who seemed familiar. I looked her over a couple times, eyeing her jet black hair and caramel-colored skin.

She tilted her head to the side and I saw that she was gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous.

I instantly realized she was Matt’s personal assistant, but I was struggling to remember her name.

Janet? Judy? Janise? Joan? Joan! That’s it!

I tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around.

“I’m sorry,” she stepped back. “Do I know you?”

“It’s me…Selena,” I slightly lifted my shades. “Um, hi...How have you been? How is Matt?”

“I’m fine. Matt’s great. He’s about to marry to someone he actually loves.”

I rolled my eyes. I guessed that meant him and that writer woman were going to work out after all.

“Are you running an errand for him right now?” I asked.

“No. There’s not much need for a personal assistant when you’re going to be on Broadway. We’re strictly friends now.”

Over the two years that I “dated” Matt, I’d always envied his relationship with Joan. She seemed to be more than just an assistant to him; she was like his best friend. Everywhere he went, she went. Anytime he needed a second opinion, he asked for hers. And anytime I asked him if there was something going on between the two of them, he would roll his eyes and say, “Joan is the most professional person I know, and she’s made it very clear that she’s not attracted to me. There’s nothing between us but friendship. Please stop asking me that.”