Chapter 14: One Final Commercial

I've given Misty two days to cool off. That should be plenty of time. So here I am, in front of her apartment, ready to push the buzzer. So go ahead and push it. Okay, but only one time, then I wait patiently.

"Who is it?"

"Prince Charming."

She isn't saying anything and I don't hear the lock being unlocked. Could she be searching for a gun, or some pepper spray, or calling the police? I think I can deal with the pepper spray.

Click. She opens the door and says, "Come in, Mr. Dallas." She isn't smiling and I don't think she's happy to see me. Cautiously, I step in.

"I was prepared to duck, expecting to get zapped with some pepper spray or something."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I do have some pepper spray in my purse, if you'd like."

"That's okay, I can do without it. Your—uh—face is red. Are you still mad at me?"

"My cheeks are still red from where you bearded me. You scratched my face, my neck, and—other places."

"Other places? Let's see."

"No!"

I laugh, but she manages to keep from joining in.

"In answer to your question: Yes, I'm still mad at you. Your style of love-making is entirely too rough."

"I've never had any complaints before."

"That's probably because they were afraid to complain. I have bruises all over me."

"I don't suppose you'd like to prove that, would you?"

She tilts her head back and points to her neck. "These are from your teeth. You bit me!"

"I just nibbled. I didn't even break the skin."

"I'm considering filing charges against you."

"Charges? What for?"

"What you did to me was a border-line rape. I asked you to stop and you didn't!"

I'm shocked. She can't be serious—can she? "I—uh—I wouldn't have been quite so rough on you if you hadn't called me Matt."

"It was merely a slip of the tongue. I told you I was sorry."

"Sorry didn't quite cut it."

"Evidently not!"

I think it's time for a change of subject. "Are you going to offer me a cup of coffee or something?"

"NO!"

"Well—uh—all right then, I just wanted to find out if you were still mad and I guess you are. So long, Misty." I'm out of here.

-/-

What the hell is wrong with me? Here I thought I was in love with Misty Knight. I shouldn't be in love again. You're only allowed one true soul-mate aren't you? Counting Misty, I've been seriously in love three times. Four, if you count Mary Knutson in the seventh grade. A transfer to Scott AFB ended that love affair.

I thought Daphne was my true soul-mate, the love of my life, but she turned into the wife from hell. Next I fell in love with Angie, the actress. She was definitely the one until I found out she was merely practicing her acting ability on me, and I fell for it.

Discounting Mary, it was first a model, then an actress, and now I think I'm in love with another model who's also an actress. That leads back to the original question: what's wrong with me?

Maybe I'm a perpetual teenager. My body is fully grown, but my mind and heart are still juvenile. Am I destined to fall in love with every pretty girl I meet, or see? Right now I'm in love with Misty Knight, who definitely doesn't love me. I'm an idiot for falling for another model. I don't learn from my mistakes. Well, all I have to do is wait around and someone else will come along for me to fall for. I just hope she isn't a model or an actress.

Christmas Eve

What a lousy time of year to be by yourself. I should have gone to visit my parents, but where they live now just doesn't seem like home. There's no big family get-together in Moose Jaw this year. I would have enjoyed some more winter-time activities with my cousins, but I couldn't show up there uninvited. Maybe I should go to Vegas? No, losing money doesn't cheer me up.

What I'd like to do is go see Misty. I haven't seen her since she threatened to file charges. She's probably with her boyfriend, Matt, or maybe she went home to Minot again this Christmas. Maybe I'll just go out and get drunk this evening. That's what I need: fill myself with Christmas cheer, so I'll have a miserable hangover tomorrow. Merry fucking Christmas!

I think I'll just stay here and eat a bucket of worms. I can't even go bug Charlie. He and Sharon are still on their honeymoon. I performed my best man duties flawlessly: got him to the church on time after a not so wild bachelor party, only two strippers. I stood up there with him and handed him the ring at the proper time. He had forgotten about the ring. Charlie is a good guy and Sharon better treat him right.

Charlie didn't want me to divorce Daphne and tried to talk me out of it. While he was convincing me not to divorce her, she served me with divorce papers. It worked out better that way anyhow. She had to pay for the lawyer.

The New Year

I made a New Year's resolution to go apologize to Misty-a serious apology, I mean. Well, here it is the fifth of January and I haven't acted on it yet. Nobody else has come along for me to fall in love with either, so I'm still stuck with Misty. I'll go see her tomorrow. Charlie and Sharon are back from their honeymoon and they're still happy with each other. They're so happy that it's uncomfortable for me to be around them.

Somebody's at my door. I hope it isn't the newlyweds.

"Hello, Mr. Dallas. May I come in?"

I'm so surprised I don't know what to say. Finally I manage to come up with, "Sure—uh—Miss Knight, come right in."

She's made-up and dressed-up to perfection-a bright green and yellow dress, color-coordinated yellow high heels, and carrying an over-sized handbag. She looks like springtime, and here it is January.

I'm at a loss for words and she isn't saying anything, so I have to come up with something. "How's Matt?"

No, No, No! That's the worst possible thing I could have said. What the hell is wrong with me?

She's surprised by my question, but she replies, "He's fine. Did you know Misty Night is coming out with a line of products for men?"

"No."

"Well, they are, and they're launching it with an advertising campaign called Handsome Knight. That's night with a K. Guess who's going to be the handsome knight?"

"Obviously, not me if some of the products have anything to do with shaving."

"Handsome Knight is Matt!"

Uhumm, damn, I think I'm in pain. "That's rather convenient, isn't it? I mean, you're Misty Night and your boyfriend is Handsome Knight. Are you two going to be doing commercials together?"

"No, we can't. I'm supposed to be in love with you and Bobbi doesn't think our customers would like it if I dump you and take up with Handsome Knight."

"I don't know. A lot of your young, female customers could probably identify with a smart-ass, two-timing wench who keeps several different men on her string."

"Is that how you see me?"

"No, I don't think you've been two-timing Matt. Our romance was strictly make- believe."

"Yes, it was! And Misty Night Cosmetics doesn't want their Misty Night Girl thought of as a smart-ass, two-timing wench. That's why we have to do one more commercial."

"Hah! You're out of your mind."

"Bobbi wants us to do a Valentine's Day commercial to wind up the campaign."

"Bobbi's out of her mind too!

"Maybe, but she's also a very shrewd business person. She knows what sells and how to sell it."

"Our make-believe romance was supposed to end at Christmas."

"Yes it was, but it's so popular our fans want more. Even more importantly, Misty Night Cosmetics sold out. We couldn't keep up with the Christmas demand. They're working extra shifts to restock the stores for the Valentine season. Misty Night Cosmetics are more in demand than flowers and candy."

"In that case, I think I deserve a bonus."

"Yes you do. I'll suggest to Bobbi that you'll do this last commercial provided we get a nice bonus."

"We?"

"Yes. If you deserve a bonus, I do too."

"Misty, I don't think I want to do another commercial with you."

She just looks at me and if I'm reading her look correctly, she's getting exasperated. She turns her frown into a smile and says, "Let's put this business proposition on hold. I have another proposition for you, a personal one. Would you like to try again?"

"Try what again?"

"Me."

"…"

"Well?"

"…"

She holds up her oversize handbag. "This is an overnight case."

I'm beginning to catch on. "Uh—are you sure you want to do this?"

She's hesitant to answer, trying to maintain a business-like appearance even though she's lighting up in embarrassment.

"Yes."

Wow, she's in full bloom—bright red. "Do you mind if I shave first?"

"Not at all, and take your time. I need some time to regain my composure."

"Me too."

-/-

We both lost our composure again—totally—but I'm not complaining, and even better, neither is she. Not a word is mentioned about anybody being too rough, and I'm not going to say anything about this place on my shoulder. Misty has sharp teeth. She got pretty physical, but she wasn't too rough.

Breakfast

I slept late this morning. I needed the rest. It was an exhausting night. I'm awakened by Bobby, out in the kitchen, rattling those pots and pans. After only two minutes in the shower, he comes into the bathroom like he owns it and loudly announces, "Breakfast is ready!"

So much for a leisurely shower. As soon as he closes the door I step out and dry off-no time for make-up or fixing my hair. Fortunately, I have my robe in my overnight case. I wouldn't want to go in there wearing just a towel. He's fixed a big breakfast for us, and for a change, I'm starving at breakfast time. My energy level is on empty and I need to refuel.

After two eggs, bacon, hash-browns, toast with pineapple preserves, and Bobby's delicious coffee, I'm good to go.

"I need to run home and change clothes before my acting class."

"Why bother to change? You looked terrific in that dress you were wearing last night. And you looked even more terrific out of it."

"I prefer to fit in with my classmates, so I usually wear jeans and an oversize sweatshirt to class."

I'm back in my dress and high heels, no make-up, but I've managed to comb most of the tangles out of my hair. I should have packed jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes, but there wasn't enough room in my case-not with all the make-up products I carry around. And I didn't even use any of them.

"Before I go, I need an answer. Will you do the Valentine commercial with me?"

"So that's why you spent the night with me-just to get me to agree to do another commercial."

He's kidding, I hope, so I fire right back, "Of course it is. Why else would I sleep with you?"

His expression turns harsh. Oh God! He believes me.

"I'm joking! I didn't mean that. I was just trying to be funny. Surely, you don't think I'd prostitute myself just to get you to do a commercial?"

"You have to admit that it looks that way."

"Well, it isn't that way! I'm here because—because I . . . Are you still in love with me?"

"Maybe—uh—but only about half-way."

"Oh—well—I've realized that I might be about half-way in love with you."

"Ah—good—that's up from a third, so I must be doing something right."

"Yes, you certainly did last night. I better go before I embarrass myself." Oops, too late, I already have.

Just as I'm going out the door, Bobby says, "I'll do it."

"Do what?"

"The commercial."

-/-

When Bobbi hands me an outline and explains exactly what she's arranging for the final commercial of our make-believe romance, I go into shock! I'm still in shock the following evening when I show up at Bobby Dallas's apartment, overnight case in hand, to inform him of what she wants. Maybe I should hold off until in the morning to inform him. No. It might be easier, but I don't think that's a good idea. He'd probably take it wrong. It would seem too much like I'm prostituting myself. Am I? No, of course not. I'm merely here to sleep with him and to casually let him know about the commercial.

As soon as Bobby opens the door, he notices my overnight case and he smiles. I'm afraid he's already taking it wrong. His beard has only had a few days to grow since he shaved for me, but it already looks rough, scratchy, and irritating. I don't want to irritate him because I know he'll make it rough for me, but I don't want him to think I'm using sex as a bribe. I'd better go ahead and tell him.

"Bobby Dallas, I have the outline for our commercial. We need to go over it."

"We can have the business meeting in the morning. Tonight it's pleasure before business."

Don't I wish? "No, we'd better get the business over with first. I don't want you to get the wrong impression about why I'm here."

"All right, we'll do it your way."

I have to pause for a deep breath. "For our final commercial of this make-believe romance, Bobbi wants us to go to a wedding."

"Charlie and Sharon got married last month. I was best man, but you missed it, so whose wedding are we going to?"

"Ours."

"Ah—ha—ha-ha-ha! I don't think so."

I'm glad he's laughing. "It doesn't have to be real, but Bobbi insists that it look real. We go through the ceremony, but it's only a make-believe wedding. We don't actually have to get married."

"Okay, when is this farce taking place?"

"As soon as possible. Bobbi is already making the arrangements."

He's still smiling as he takes me in his arms and kisses me. I didn't think he would accept it this easily, but he's taking it as a joke. After the kiss, he says, "Business meeting: over. It's time for pleasure." He scoops me up and carries me to the bedroom. I don't want to irritate him by asking him to shave first. I'll just have to deal with the rough beard.

A Few Days Later

Bobbi says, "We're going shopping. We have to get you a wedding dress. I have everything arranged: a church, a minister, a caterer for the reception-everything."

Did she say wedding dress?

"I thought we would simply go before an actor playing as a JP."

"No, we want the real thing-a big wedding. In case you don't know it, your commercials have created quite a following. You have fans. Would you believe the Hallmark Channel is thinking of doing a movie of your courtship based on the commercials?"

I think Bobbi needs to switch to decaf. She's getting hyper about this fake wedding. She came to my acting class with me and asked for volunteers to be bridesmaids and groom attendants. Her husband, David, is going to be best man and she's the matron of honor.

Matt didn't volunteer to be an attendant. He's upset with me, even after I explained to him that this was a fake wedding- merely an acting gig. He had hopes of getting back together with me after Christmas, but I kept putting him off. I suppose this fake wedding has put him off permanently. We're definitely on the outs.

I tried on six wedding dresses, all of them too big. I didn't like any of them, but Bobbi chose one, and after endless measurements and fittings, they assure me that it will fit perfectly when I come back tomorrow for another fitting. Misty Night Cosmetics is paying for everything, so I don't have a problem with Bobbi choosing my dress.

Bobbi tells me my wedding is all set for the fifteenth. Reverend Hyatt wants to see us the day before for a rehearsal. Bobbi has arranged everything: bridesmaid dresses, tuxedo rental for the guys, flowers, music, a singer-everything. Damn, this is going to be just like a real wedding.

The Day before the Big Day

Someone's at my door. "Who is it?"

"It's your mother and father."

I nearly faint.

"Mother! Dad! What are you doing here?"

Mom says, "My baby is getting married! We're here for the wedding."

"How did you find out?"

"Certainly not from my daughter. This isn't something you should keep secret. We received a formal invitation in the mail from Misty Night Cosmetics, and then a personal invitation on the phone from a Ms. Bobbi Holstclaw."

"But Mom, it isn't a real wedding. We're just doing it for publicity."

"Are you out of your mind? My daughter does not get married for publicity! Now, where is the bridegroom? I'll have to approve of him before I allow him to marry you."

"But Mom—"

"Don't you but Mom me. You've always been difficult, but this takes the cake. Now, are you going to take me to meet this Robert Dallas character or do we have to find him for ourselves?"

"But Mom—"

Buzz—buzz—buzz

"Who is it?"

"It's your future husband."

Oh, good grief, this is too much! For some strange reason, I develop a case of the giggles. By the time I open the door, I'm laughing.

Mom speaks first, "Young man, you need a shave."

I'm laughing so hard I can't make introductions. Bobby looks at me harshly, shakes his head, and asks, "Guess who's in my apartment?"

He wants me to play guessing games? "Yogi Berra."

He stifles a laugh. "No, it's my parents. They're here for the wedding. Misty Night Cosmetics sent them an invitation. They think we're actually getting married."

Dad says, "That's why we're here too. I'm John, Misty's father, and this is her mother, Madeline."

"I'm Bobby Dallas."

They shake hands. Mom steps forward and shocks the hell out of me. Instead of shaking hands, she hugs Bobby, and firmly states, "Robert, you're going to shave before the wedding." It isn't phrased as a question or a request. It's an order.

"Well—uh—I suppose I can. By the way, everybody calls me Bobby."

"I'm sure they do—Robert. By the way, we won't mind if you greet your prospective bride with a kiss."

"Mother! That would be embarrassing."

"I don't know why. I've seen your commercials. You two kiss each other goodnight in front of millions of TV viewers."

"That's different. We're just acting. I'm taking acting lessons, you know."

"What about you, Robert? Are you taking acting lessons?"

"No, I can't act worth a damn."

"I didn't think so."

Bobby quickly steps over, places a hand behind my head so I can't escape, and gives me a quick kiss. It's embarrassing.

He decides to go back to his place so he can show his parents around the city. I don't have to do that because Mom and Dad both went to college here.

The Rehearsal

Bobbi Holstclaw wants a private meeting with Bobby and me prior to the rehearsal. She lays out some papers and says, "I need your signatures on these forms."

Bobby protests, "These look official."

"They are official. I've generated so much publicity for this wedding that Channel 5 News will be here to cover it. I've sent invitations to all the sales people who handle our product line. This church is going to be filled to capacity with guests. We need to do this by the book in case anyone checks. We have to cross every T and dot every I. We can't allow this to blow up on us."

After she gathers up the signed papers, she says, "Now for the next problem. I've just found out that Reverend Hyatt refuses to conduct a fake marriage ceremony."

I'm stunned.

So is Bobby. He says, "So get another minister."

"We can't. This is Reverend Hyatt's church. Everything is arranged, and it's too late to try to get another church."

"This is a damn fine time to find out Reverend Hyatt won't go along with your scheme. Why didn't he tell you he wouldn't go along with it before now?"

"I imagine it's because I neglected to inform him that it's supposed to be make-believe until just a few minutes ago."

Bobby and I sit still and look at each other, question marks and exclamation points shooting back and forth between us. If he's waiting for me to come up with something, it's going to be a long wait. I don't have a clue as to how to solve this problem.

Our crazy wedding coordinator interrupts our furious, problem-solving brainstorming by asking, "What's the problem? We'll simply do this for real. We can get it annulled later, on the QT, provided you want to get it annulled, but I don't know why you would. Obviously, you two are in love with each other."

"It's only make-believe," I protest.

Bobby counters my protest by admitting, "It's no longer make-believe for me."

Reverend Hyatt steps into his office and says, "Let's get this rehearsal started. Everybody is ready and waiting."

-/-

After the rehearsal dinner, which Bobbi hadn't made plans for, so I took care of it, I didn't get to see Misty again until they started playing "Here Comes the Bride." Walking down the aisle toward me in her wedding dress, she literally took my breath away.

Somehow, I got through the ceremony and kissed the bride when Reverend Hyatt said it was okay. Misty had to pinch the back of my neck, our cut signal, three times before I got the message.

When we finally slip away from the reception, I ask, "Do you want an annulment?"

She takes a deep breath—lets it out slowly—and says, "No."

"Me neither. So what do we do about a honeymoon?"

"We'll think of something."

The End

It's Only Make Believe by JD Fly 146

I hope everyone enjoyed Bobby and Misty's story. This was my first attempt at a strictly romance story. I usually like to throw in a lot of humor and some other elements, like some science fiction or mystery. The next story I will be posting is an earlier work of mine that I have been rewriting. Please join me for "The Tutor From Hell."