Nobody's Damsel (Someone Else's Fairytale #2)

My Glamorous Life

The morning sky was gray and a couple of hot air balloons dotted the skyline like bubbles suspended in Lucite. I took a deep breath of chill air and began my run, feeling the usual catch in my knee for the first several paces and the jolts through my legs as my shoes hit the pavement. My cheeks were soon rubbed raw by the icy air moving past and my breath was ragged for the first twenty paces. Then I hit my stride and everything fell into a rhythm. The sun lit up the eastern horizon, creating a halo of light over the Sandia Mountains. It was good to be home in Albuquerque, with its dry desert air and broad, flat sky. Brown, open fields stretched on either side of the road.

I reached the corner, cut across the road, turned right, and made my way along the uneven shoulder, gravel crunching under my feet. More cold air pumped into my lungs as I pushed myself faster, as if by running I could escape the insanity of the last twenty-four hours and just be me, plain old regular Chloe.

My mother’s phone message had arrived last night. When she’d called, I’d stared at my phone, chewed my lip, and felt bitter guilt pool in the pit of my stomach as I hit the “Ignore” button. The picture of her that popped up showed her with her bright pink, glossy lips pooched out and her eyes shut to show off blue glitter eye shadow. Her fake lashes lay curled against her cheekbones.

“Hey sweetie,” came her voice in the message. She was subdued, which could only mean one thing, that she had something awkward to tell me. “I’m just calling to see how you and… things are. I know you don’t need your old mother snooping around in your business, but I hope everything’s all right. I love you.”

I’d deleted the message and tried not to stew about it. It was possible, I reasoned, that she just wanted to know how my studies had gone, or what my graduation ceremony had been like, but questions about these wouldn’t qualify as “snooping.” No, she wanted to know about my personal life, which meant she’d read something in some tabloid, somewhere, that said Jason was cheating on me.

He wasn’t. Even if I was new to the whole media insanity that surrounded my movie star husband, his family wasn’t. I was staying with his sister right now and she would skin him alive if she had the least suspicion that he wasn’t treating me right. The rumors didn’t bother me because I thought they were true. They bothered me because they just wouldn’t quit. They permeated every aspect of my life these days. A few months ago, I felt like I could just let them slide off me, but I hadn’t realized how relentless the onslaught would be.

As I rounded the bend, I looked back over my shoulder and saw a white sedan pull off the side of the road and into the far lane. It took a conscious effort to suppress the shudder that went through me. It was one car. Just because it went the same direction as me didn’t mean it was following me.

But the car didn’t accelerate or zip past. Instead it went slow and matched my pace. The morning was still too dim for me to get a good look at the driver. I saw the suggestion of a silhouette against the dark interior. A man, perhaps? A glint on something that could have been a camera, or maybe a phone. The window rolled down and a flashbulb went off.

Eyes on where you’re going, I thought. With this person taking pictures, the last thing I needed to do was trip and break my neck. I’d lost my rhythm and my breathing came in desperate gasps. I forced my chest to expand, drawing in another lungful of air, now tinged with the scent of car exhaust. I breathed out, stretched my legs to lengthen my stride, and tried to act casual.

If paparazzi were following me, though, and coming all the way to Albuquerque to do it, then a major story had broken. I wondered how many people had seen it, and how many of my friends now wondered if I was about to get a divorce.