Chapter 8

  “Reality TV isn’t all that real, is it?” I ask Logan as he shares a storyboard of the remaining scenes we need to tape for our wedding show.

  “Not if we aim to give people what they want. We’re promoting the dream, honey.” Logan wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against his body. “Doesn’t every woman want to have their own wedding with an alien?”

  I lean into his strength with my exhaustion. The final beta match was completed last week and next month the Intergalactic Dating Agency will be open to all of the US. I smile up at my husband. “I’m sure they do.”

  “We signed on Karin Jewelers today.”

  I think about how Karin Jewelers used to flood the market with their engagement ring advertisements before the male population was almost wiped out, and I imagine they’re thrilled with the alien invasion that’s about to happen. I turn to face Logan. “That’s a big deal. Nice going.”

  “Thanks. It is.”

  I sigh as I mentally prepare myself for the day ahead. I’m supposed to do my first taped craft show with a studio audience, and my stomach is in knots. Logan says being in front of the camera gets easier, but after two weeks of production I still get queasy thinking about it. Today I have the added stress of people watching me as I make mistakes.

  “Hey,” Logan tips my chin up with his finger so our gazes meet. “Are you nervous about today?”

  I nod. “I hate that hundreds of people are going to watch me screw things up.”

  “Eliza, this is how it goes. Nobody’s perfect, and you’re going to be a pro at this in no time.”

  My husband has been my biggest cheerleader, and if it weren’t for him I’d have quit after the first day. But because Logan is so excited about our project, and because he’s making big things happen, I know we’re going to be a success. I can’t back down from my part, and I’m going to have to find a way to cope. “I know.” I reach up and kiss him quickly. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’m going to go grab my bag and leave.”

  When I get to the lobby of our apartment building, Nancy, one of my neighbors, greets me. “Eliza! I’ve been seeing your face all over my television screen these days. The trailers for your new shows are fantastic.”

  I cringe a little before pasting on a big smile. In the ads I ham it up for the camera with ridiculous disaster scenarios I claim to fix in order to tease viewers. “Thanks.” I recall what Logan has trained me to say. “I’m very excited about them. I hope you plan to watch.”

  “I do. I’ve been bragging to my friends about how you helped me serve the perfect dinner for Taylor’s boss.” Taylor is Nancy’s roommate. “I swear the meal is why she got a raise.”

  My smile becomes genuine now, because what I really want is for my homemaking skills to help others. “I’m so glad it worked.” Nancy loves cooking and entertaining as much as I do, and I recall the seats I have reserved to give away. “I know this is last minute, but today is my first show for crafts. It would be really nice to have a friendly face in the audience. I have front row ticket if you’d like to come.”

  Nancy’s face lights up. “Really? Oh my gosh, I’d love that!”

  The smooth lining of my purse is cool on my fingers as I reach into a side pocket and grab a red slip of paper. “Here. Thank you for wanting to come.”

  “Thank you for this. I’m excited to see the show.”

  Nancy’s compliments put me in a better mood, and I arrive at the studio ready to face my newest challenge. I manage to stay brave until I get in front of the audience. Sweat trickles down my back, and my heartbeat pounds in my chest as I glance at the huge white poster with my lines. I take a deep breath as the director counts down to rolling, and I notice Nancy in the audience. She waves at me, and I smile. I get through the introduction as I imagine talking to my neighbor instead of a large group of people.

  My project is festive outdoor lights that can be made from old plastic bottles, and as I lay out the materials for the craft, it hits me that having an audience member follow my directions on camera would show people how easy the construction is. I glance over at Nancy and ad lib. “I’d like a volunteer to come help me. Any takers?”

  Nancy pumps both hands up in the air as voices yell, “Me!” I point at my friend and call her up to the stage. We break from taping so the makeup people can work their magic on Nancy, and when we resume I introduce her and we begin the craft. Nancy is my savior, because she acts as if we’re in her living room as she makes jokes. At the points where I freeze she asks questions that get me back on track.

  When we finish and go back to my dressing room, I hug Nancy tight. “You were fantastic. I’m not sure I could have done that without you.”

  A soft knock sounds before Logan enters. “Great show, honey.” He glances at Nancy, who he’s met before. He says, “You were a natural. You were so comfortable in front of the camera.”

  She says, “I’m far from being a natural. I had to work hard at appearing relaxed on camera. I studied communications in college and had dreams of becoming a weather forecaster. Unfortunately, competition is tough, and I never managed to find a job.”

  I watch Logan as his brow knits, and I imagine the wheels of his mind turning. Mine are too, because she’d be a great host for one of our shows. He says, “We may need to talk.”

  Nancy’s eyes light up. “I’d love that.”

  Logan says, “I’ve got to get back to work.” He leans down and kisses me. “See you tonight.”

  I turn to Nancy. “I’m done for the day if you want to walk out together.”

  The metal door of the studio is heavy as I push it open, and sunlight temporarily blinds us as we step outside. Multiple voices shout my name, and when I can see I realize a crowd is waiting for me. A woman shoves a piece of paper and pen toward me. “Eliza! Can I have your autograph?”

  “Ah--” I glance at Nancy and she nods at me. Blood rushes to my face, and even though it feels as if air has been sucked from my lungs I say, “Sure.” I sign for the woman with a shaky hand as more items are thrust toward me, and I begin to gasp for air. It’s as if the people are crushing me, and the urge to run is overwhelming. I try to back away but I bump into someone, and when I whirl around, I discover I’m surrounded. “No.” I continue to turn in a circle. “No, no, no.”

  Nancy grabs my arms and gets into my face. “Breathe, Eliza.”

  I shake my head because I can’t speak.

  “It’s okay,” says Nancy. She pulls me into an embrace and yells over the top of my head. “Back away! Give us some space!” She whispers to me as if I’m a frightened animal. “We’re going back inside.”

  Somehow, we get back into the building, and the solid thud of the door makes me sink to the floor. Hot tears roll down my cheeks as I say, “I can’t do this.”

  Nancy calls out to someone down the hall. “Go get Logan please!” She crouches down before me. “Take a deep breath for me.” I inhale slowly and blow out the air. “Good. Another.”

  After a few more deep breaths my heart rate returns to normal. Logan’s panic is apparent by the wild look on his face as he rushes toward me. “Eliza! Are you okay?” I nod as I reach up and let him pull me to my feet. “What happened?”

  Nancy says, “I think she had a panic attack. When we went to leave there was a crowd outside wanting her autograph.”

  I grip Logan’s arms tight. “I felt like they were going to swallow me whole.” A sob escapes as the anxiety I’ve felt for the past few weeks surges in me. I realize I hate being in the public eye. “I can’t do this, Logan. I just can’t.”

  “Honey.” He pulls me against his chest and strokes my hair. His warmth is soothing and I hold on as he says, “It’s okay, we’ll fix it. We’ll get you a car and driver, and maybe you need a bodyguard, and--”

  A bodyguard? I pull away from him. “No! Don’t you get it? I hate this. I’m terrible on camera. I don’t want to become a household name. I don’t want people to know my face or who I am.” I gasp with my sobs. “I just want to go home and never leave.”

  Logan studies me with concern. “Okay. I’ll take you.”

  “Thank you.” I lean against him as he puts his arm around me.

  Nancy says, “I’ll be in my apartment if you need anything.” Her fingers are cool on my arm when she touches me. “Anything at all.”

  I offer a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate all you’ve done so far.”

  When Logan and I get home, he runs me a hot bath and the aroma of lilac fills the air from the scented candles he lit. He says, “I’m going to go heat you up some soup, but take as much time in here as you need.” I smile at him, and he takes my face in his hands. “We’ll make it right. Whatever it takes, we’ll fix this.”

  As he kisses me, I wonder if he realizes I don’t want to be fixed. I want to be out of the business that carries my name. But I’m too tired to discuss it, so when I pull away I say, “I won’t be long. Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, Eliza.”

  I offer him a weak smile as I think about the fact I may be testing that promise later.

  Chapter 9

  The iron thuds on the shirt I’m pressing for the fourth time. There isn’t a wrinkle in sight, but I’m avoiding what I have to do. After my panic attack yesterday, I’m sure I need to back out of being the face and name of the Eliza Grady homemaking empire Logan wants to create. My blouse is stiff with starch as I hang it up, and I finally make my way to the kitchen where Logan is working.

  I breathe in so deeply my lungs might explode, and my husband glances at me. When I exhale to speak, my words tumble out of my mouth. “I’ve decided to quit and go back to my job at the museum.”

  Logan blinks a few times before he speaks. “You’re serious. You really want to just walk away from it all.” He sets his coffee mug down so hard the contents splash up.

  “I do.” I’ve thought about nothing else since yesterday. I’m not an outgoing person, and I’ve never enjoyed large groups of people the way my friends do. I come home and can’t wait to be in silence, while my girlfriends want to rehash whatever silly thing happened so they can laugh again. I say, “It won’t be hard to find a replacement that’s better than me.”

  “Don’t be self-deprecating, Eliza.” His voice is hard and it makes me uncomfortable with the shame of disappointing him. “You are the business.” He sighs as he splays his hands out on the table, and I can tell he’s searching for the right words. “Look. I told you it takes time to get good at this. And you’ve already improved so much. I’m sure you’re going to be on top of it all very soon.”

  “But I don’t want to be.” I walk over to the window that overlooks the city, and lights twinkle in the twilight. I lay my cheek on the cool glass as I think about my previous job at the museum cataloging precious artifacts. I spent most of my time working alone and I loved it. All I’ve ever wanted was to stay home and raise a family. I turn to Logan. “Remember in my profile I mentioned I want to run a household, and take care of my mate and our children?”

  “Yes. I wanted that too. And I still want the children, but we decided to take your impressive skills and share them. We decided this together, Eliza.”

  “Did we? I recall that you steamrolled ahead with the idea and assumed I would go along with it.”

  Logan gets up to come to me and his eyes are hard when he says, “I didn’t hear any objections.”

  He’s right. I didn’t say anything. “Well, you’re hearing them now. I can’t do it.” Glasses rattle when I open the dishwasher to empty it, and I avoid Logan’s gaze. My cheeks are hot with my shame of disappointing him, and part of me wants to cave and try again so he won’t be mad. But I know myself well enough to realize that I’ll still be miserable. “You saw what happened yesterday. I’m not meant to be in the public eye.” Silverware clangs as I put it in the drawer, and I glance at my husband. “I’m meant to be an ordinary woman.”

  He steps in front of the dishwasher to block me from unloading more. “So what am I supposed to do? Hire someone to pretend to be you?”

  “What about Nancy? She’d be fantastic as a show host.”

  Logan shakes his head and anger flashes in his eyes. “Our brand is you.” He rakes his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  I step back, and my voice is soft when I say, “I’m sorry.”

  My husband stares at me for a moment, and his eyes are not the warm brown I’m used to. I watch as they swirl with shades of black. I have knots in my stomach again. Logan nods once before he moves to go back to the table. He doesn’t sit down to his computer like I expected, and his footsteps pound as he paces around. He begins to mutter in his native language, and while the sound is melodic, the emphasis on some of the words tells me he’s saying things that are not pleasant.

  I don’t know what to do, but I’m not good at feeling helpless so I say, “I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

  “Hot chocolate?” Logan’s hands are in fists by his side. “Did you plan to bake cookies too?” His laptop snaps shut as he takes it from the table, and he shoves it in his bag. “I’ve got a better idea.” He sweeps his arm around the room. “Why don’t you redecorate and focus on the trivial things in life while I figure out how to salvage the business I’ve poured all my money into.”

  My heart sinks. “Logan.” I didn’t think he’d be so angry with me, and I certainly didn’t think about how my decision would impact the business. He doesn’t look at me and speaks in Eroscian as he stomps toward the door. When he gets there he turns to me, and now his eyes flash with rage as he spits out, “Don’t wait up. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

  No. “Logan!” I run toward him as he steps out the door. “Please. Don’t leave mad.”

  His nostrils flare as he glares at me, and his voice echoes in the hallway. “You’ve just announced we are no longer a team. How am I supposed to react?”

  “No.” Tears burn in my eyes. “That’s not what just happened. I love you and want us to be partners for life.”

  “If that’s true then you’d understand how what you’re doing impacts both of us.”

  “I didn’t think.” My sleeve scratches against my skin as I swipe tears off my face. “Come back inside and we’ll figure this out.”

  Logan’s face relaxes a bit, and the familiar warmth of his alien touch fills me. “Are you changing your mind about doing the shows?”

  It would be so easy to say yes and appease him, because he’s made me feel that it’s okay. I shake my head. “I know what you’re doing. How can I be sure of what I want when you continue to make me want things?” A tear drips off my chin, and I swipe the rest off my face. “This isn’t a partnership if you continue to manipulate me into thinking the way you do. It’s like you only want me for my body and homemaking skills.” A sob escapes before I croak out. “I thought you loved me, not what I can do for you.”

  “I see.” His brow is knit as if he’s confused by what I said. “Goodbye, Eliza.” He turns and walks toward the elevator.

  I fight the urge to run to him and pull him back. How did everything go so wrong so quickly? The door snicks shut as I slowly close it, and it’s hard on my back as I lean against it and let my tears fall. I push off to walk over to the kitchen table where Logan sets up when he’s home, and I move the vase of flowers back to the center. I wander into the living room to sit on the sofa and pull myself together.

  I wonder if I’ve been fooling myself all along and begin to replay the way I was so easily swayed to his thinking over the past few weeks. Was he manipulating me the whole time?

  A pillow is soft in my arms as I hug it, and I recall my wardrobe overhaul. Was the joy I felt over new clothes and a new look real? Or was it because Logan made me like it? I glance down at my straight leg slacks and wonder if I would have picked them on my own.

  I think about the shows and how easily we decided how they should go. I squeeze my eyes shut as a low-grade headache pounds behind them. I let myself get sucked into Logan’s enthusiasm, and I went along with almost everything because his ideas were good. Or were they? Did he use his alien powers to make me believe in them?

  The vision of Logan’s face when his mind is racing with ideas makes me smile. He bounces them off me and the two of us form a plan that makes both us excited. I do recall having a say, and swaying him to my side occasionally. At the time I felt as if he believed in me too. Working by his side has been rewarding, and I think we make a great team. Unfortunately, I can’t stomach being the face of the business no matter how much Logan tries to make me think I can.

  There’s got to be a way to fix this. I flash to the cold, angry face of my husband as he left and recall how he was the same way when he arrived. Is that who Logan really is? I close my eyes and rub my temples. I’m afraid I don’t have a clear view, but I think my two best friends will. I think they can help me figure this out.

  Standing up quickly, I toss the pillow on the couch and it thuds softly. I call Mandy and Lexi and ask them to come over. I make my way to the kitchen, and ice crashes in my half-sink before I add water to create a chilly bath. I place a bottle of white wine in the water and know it will be cold enough to drink in minutes. I sigh. While I have hundreds of tips and tricks for running a home, I clearly lack the skills to navigate a marriage, and I hope my girlfriends can help me find my way.

  Chapter 10

  “Hey, sweetie.” I’ve just opened the door to Mandy, and she hugs me lightly as her pregnant belly gets between us. “Logan’s at my house hanging out in the man cave with Caiden.”

  “Thanks for letting me know. One less thing to worry about.”

  “So what’s going on? You had a panic attack?”

  I sigh. “Yeah.” A soft knock announces Lexi before I let her in.