Fake Fiancée - Season 1 - Episode 56

Episode 4 years ago

Fake Fiancée - Season 1 - Episode 56

There was hardly anyone there, which was a good thing, because I didn’t want anyone to witness anything.

The three of us hopped out of the car and Clara asked us if we wanted ice-cream. We agreed to get some ice-cream and headed over to the small stall. Cookies and cream was definitely for me and I ordered it with some chocolate sauce to be drizzled on top. Meanwhile, Clara ordered a lemon sorbet and Natasha wanted a strawberry cheesecake flavour. We all started to lick our ice-creams quickly because the heat of the day was making them melt.

“So, are you going to tell us the real story?” Natasha raised a perfectly shaped brow as we sat down on the white sand.
Clara whacked her on the arm. “Don’t push her,” she murmured.

I gave them a reassuring smile. “It’s fine,” I said. “Henry wanted me to be engaged to him because his reputation was stained.”
Natasha snorted. “I’m not surprised. He was a real party boy.”

“But Henry’s changed because of Lainie! Can’t you see it? He’s a man in loooove.”
I blushed. Usually Clara was shy but now she was more confident, which baffled me slightly. Maybe she was just a hopeless romantic. “He’s not in love with me,” was my immediate response.
“Are you kidding? Have you seen the way he looks at you?” Clara asked, disbelieving.
“She’s got a point there,” Natasha muttered. I was going to disagree, but out of nowhere, I heard a voice.

“It’s her!”


The sudden outburst startled the three of us and we whipped our heads around to see who had spoken. A skimpy blonde was huffing a few feet away with her little posse standing behind her, smirking at me. With the lead girl’s short pink skirt, straight-as-pin blonde hair and puckered lips, she reminded me of a Barbie doll, or better yet, Regina George, but smaller and more pathetic-looking. She looked strangely familiar as well, but I just couldn’t place it.

“Do you know these girls?” Clara asked.
I shook my head, making mini Regina’s eyes narrow into red slits. “You can’t forget me!” she screeched. Her voice honestly sounded as bad as nails running down a chalkboard. “I’m Gabby Thornton!”

I have never in my life heard that name. “Who?” I stared blankly at her, making my amusement grow as she became even more frustrated.

“I’m from LA. We met at Venice Beach!” She clucked her tongue as it suddenly clicked. I remembered now. We had met Gabby when Henry and I had our first public appearance at the beach.

“Oh you!” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Clara still looking confused, while Natasha had resorted to texting on her iPhone.
“Yes, me!” Gabby growled with a hand on her bony hip. “I can’t believe you got Henry to propose to you. How did you do it?”
I gave her a sickly sweet smile just to piss her off even more. “With my awesomeness, of course.”

“You liar! You obviously attended to his …
needs .”
I gritted my teeth and was ready to throw an insult at her, when Natasha suddenly defended me. “Hey! Just because you can’t have Henry, it doesn’t mean you can go around insulting his girlfriend.”

I gave her a grateful smile. “Yeah. You need to get your delusions sorted, plastic,” I chided. “A girl like you with Henry? You have a bigger chance with Scooby-Doo.”
“That’s it! Egg her!”
Wait, what?

Before I could say anything, her little friends had taken out eggs from a plastic bag and begun chucking eggs at me, except it was pretty amateur because they mostly splattered on the sand or Natasha, who shrieked.
“Let’s get out of here!” Clara exclaimed. I silently agreed as she pulled me up from the sand and ignored the egg yolk which was currently sliding down her top.
“The paparazzi are here!” Natasha pointed them from the street and I mentally groaned. Could this get any worse? First, I’m accused of sleeping with Henry to get him to propose, then the Mean Girls attack me with eggs and now, the paparazzi are here to get the live proof, which would surely air on TV worldwide.
The three of us ran for our lives, but I was feeling so uncomfortable because I could feel sticky egg whites and yolk running down my hair and clothes. I was also embarrassed, because the paparazzi were chasing us down the street and getting this all on camera. Now I really understood Henry’s hatred for them.
As we rounded a corner, Clara exclaimed, “Over here!”

She pulled Natasha and me into some bushes, and we panted slightly from all the running. “Nice hiding spot,” Natasha whispered.

We waited for the paparazzi and the girls to pass by our bush before stepping out. I could see people on the streets watching us, bemused, but I brushed it off. I stretched out my tan legs and groaned to see them all icky, along with my clothes and hair. I brushed off some green leaves out of my hair and some which had gotten stuck to my shirt. Natasha looked like she was about to cry when she saw her reflection in the glass window of a nearby surf shop, but Clara wasn’t fazed and I admired her for that.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back so we can get cleaned up.”

We smiled sadly at each other and headed off towards Natasha’s car so we could get back. Even though we were getting the seats dirty, we didn’t really care. Natasha was so pissed off that ‘the little brats’ had dared to egg us.
Once I arrived back at the hotel, the people working there gave me weird looks and I smiled back at them, just to make them baffled or feel ashamed of looking at me. When I reached the elevator, I was relieved, because there was no one in there who would make any comments about my awful attire.

Steve raised an eyebrow at me when I entered my hotel suite. “What has happened to you?”
I sighed as I shut the door behind me. “Long story. But to summarise everything, I was egged by obsessive Henry Parker fans and later chased by the paparazzi down a street.”
My uncle pursed his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me.” He was right, but what he said next shocked me. “Lainie … I think it’s best if you leave.”

Leave? The word echoed in my mind as I stood still, rooted to the spot. I was starting to panic at the thought of leaving Henry. But maybe he just meant that I should leave Curacao and go back to LA. “What do you mean …?”
“I mean leave , as in go back home, back to Hazel,” Steve told me. Oh no. No, not my mother. I looked at him with wide eyes and I realised he was having a hard time saying this. “It’s dangerous for you in the Hollywood world. It’s better if you go back to living in a quiet town.”

“But … why?” I choked out, horrified at what my uncle was asking me to do. How could he think I would be able to walk away from Henry?
“Girl fans of Henry can be very obsessive Lainie, and since they think you’re the bad guy here, there’s no telling what they’ll want to do to you. As long as Henry is a famous actor, you will be despised, and Henry also.”
When he finished saying that, I suddenly remembered my promise which I had made a few days ago – that I would do anything to keep Henry acting with a good reputation. Sure, his girl fans thought he was innocent in all this, but there were many others who still thought Henry had hired me to help his reputation. If I left, everyone would slowly forget about my relationship with Henry and everything would go back to normal.
In that moment, I knew what I had to do.