You could argue that it made some sort of sense, after all he wasn’t living the average Joe normal everyday existence, but he was more than certain that this wasn’t part of the deal.  This was beyond all that price you pay for fame bullshit.  He didn’t think this fit under his job requirement. 
     The alcohol he had consumed had long ago ceased to be having an effect on him, but he knew no amount of aspirin was going to alleviate him of his current problem.  All alternatives checked the conclusion had come that this was something that couldn’t be handled with a phone call, a denial, or a “no comment”.  His hazy mind recalled Shannon’s rationale.  It was already too high profile.  Press had gotten wind.  It was something they couldn’t deny as gossip because evidence to the contrary was floating about.  No quick fix.  No divorce.  No annulment.  Hours later, due to circumstances Shannon had pointed out that included his career, he was still married, and he was going to be for a while.  Regretfully so…stuck.  He was stuck.  And at this very moment he’d take a hundred hangovers to just be rid of Aliesa Montaine…image be damned.  He couldn’t argue he thought she was attractive.  She was easy on the eyes.  But she was also hell in a dress. 
     At first he thought the demeanor she held was because she was hungover.  Nope. Post-hangover, hours later, in between bouts of crying, she was still yelling at him.  As if it were all his fault they had to stay married.  He hadn’t woken up in that bed by himself.  It had taken two people to get in it.  It was her fault too.  And the sooner she realized it the better.  She was difficult.  She was demanding.  They were still arguing.  The woman was just plain aggravating.  It was no wonder he drank that much alcohol.  He couldn’t remember much of what had happened the night before, but he must have been really out of it, because whatever had gravitated her to him before wasn’t registering now. 

“You’re not leaving,” he repeated a little louder, just in case she hadn’t heard the last fifty times he’d said it.

She wasn’t having it.  “I have to be in Los Angeles.”

“The plan was for you to stay with me until I go to New York tomorrow.  You can’t just change plans,” he contested exasperatedly. 

“I told you I have to work!”

“Well so do I!”

“My life can’t stop just because it’s inconvenient for you Ritchie.”

“It can when it has to do with my life too!”

Aliesa took a breath.  “Do you think I’m happy about this whole thing?” she remarked testily, eyeing him with contempt.

“You think I am?” he retorted back, lifting his head up to meet her gaze.  “You think I 
want to be married to you?”

She shot him a look laced with fury and just plain bitterness.  “You are such an asshole!”

“Well if you’d quit whining maybe I wouldn’t be one!” 

He supposed he ought to adopt a brighter outlook and approach their new position with a more optimistic attitude, but he wanted to be sullen.  Frankly, he’d earned the right to be. 
He was fucking married!  And after that talk with Shannon, and management, and the lads…oh…

“Shit,” he uttered aloud, scanning the clock across the room.  He rubbed his temples.  “We were supposed to meet the other lads half an hour ago.” 

“What?” 

Ritchie leaned his head back against the couch, ignoring her tone, hell just ignoring her. “I forgot…”

“You forgot?” she interjected.

“Well you know in between being bitched out by you and by management it kinda slipped my mind,” he shot back sarcastically.

Her jaw clenched.  “You know I liked you better when you were brooding.”

“Yeah?  Well I liked you better when you were hungover, at least then you were throwing up instead of talking.” 

Silence.

“God I hate you.”

He snorted.  “Am I supposed to be offended?”

Aliesa’s hands flew up, “You know I don’t have time for this.”  She turned, “I have a plane to catch.”

At that onslaught of information Ritchie unwillingly stood up.  “Since when?”

“Since before I was forced to stay married to you.”

“You can’t just hop on a plane Aliesa.”

She spun back around, “Are you trying to tell me what to do?”

“I’m not trying.  I’m telling you.  We have to meet with the lads.”

“You,” she emphasized, “can meet with the guys.”  She pointed at herself.  “I, on the other hand am getting as far away from you as I possibly can.  I may have accidentally married you.  I may be forced to pretend I like it just because it could potentially mess with a career that I worked my ass off for.  But I do not have to stay one more minute in this room with you when I don’t have to.” 

She spun back around and he rushed in front of her.  “We already talked about this.”

“No,” she argued, trying to move around him.  “You talked about this.  I never agreed to anything.  Now get out of my way!”

“You’re staying!”

“I’m going!”

Ritchie opened his mouth to protest then checked himself.  “Fine.”

Aliesa raised an eyebrow at him, “Fine?” she repeated, not quite believing he was relenting.

He nodded in accordance.  “You can leave after we meet with the lads.”

He watched as she clenched her fists and made a high-pitched squeak.  “This isn’t a compromise Ritchie!”

“And it isn’t a choice!  Face it.  We’re married.  They have to meet you.  You’re going.” 

She cringed at the reminder.  “No.”

“I’m asking for a fucking half hour!”

“I already have to spend a year with you let’s not extend it!”

Ritchie opened his mouth to retaliate, but was cut off by a knock on the door.  And Aliesa took the interruption as an opportunity to move around him. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he exclaimed grabbing a hold of her wrist as he made his way to the door.  “We’re not done discussing this.”

“Let me go!”

“No.”

How he managed to open that door and keep her from darting away was beyond him.  But he did. 

“Hey!” 

Of all the times…

Ritchie blinked at the cheerful greeting emanating from his bandmate. 

Of course…

Scott.

“What’s with the suitcases outside the door?  You weren’t planning on leaving us high and dry were you?” Scott teased, stepping in the doorway.  “You do know you were supposed to meet up with us about half an hour ago.” 

“Just about to walk out the door,” Ritchie answered, not missing a beat as he moved aside to let him pass.

“Not interrupting am I?” Scott continued cautiously, as he looked up at Ritchie, his eyes darting back behind his friend at Aliesa, whose wrist was still tightly in Ritchie’s grasp.  Ritchie instantly relaxed his hold.  Scott waved.  “Hi Aliesa or should I say Mrs. Neville,” he said cheekily.

A smile graced her features naturally at the motion, “Hi Scott,” she answered sweetly.  It was a complete 180 to the disposition she’d been showcasing to Ritchie moments earlier.  “The other guys ask you to come get us?” 

Scott nodded accordingly, “We thought Ritchie forgot.  He doesn’t have a real good track record lately.  I mean he did forget to tell us about you two,” he joked.

Ritchie shot him a look.  “Ha.  Ha.”

“Well you did man,” Scott shrugged good-naturedly, masking the small bit of tension. 

Aliesa gracefully moved her hand to intertwine her fingers with Ritchie’s.  “We just lost track of time.  He didn’t forget.  He was just helping me pack.”

“Those your suitcases I saw outside?” Scott questioned.

“Yeah.  I got a call from my management.  I have to go to LA at the last minute.”

“Oh so you’re not--”

Ritchie interjected before Aliesa could, “She’s just coming down for a minute before she has to catch the plane.” He tilted his head and caught her eye.  “Right Ali baby?”

He cringed as her nails dug into his skin, before she answered. 

“Right,” she agreed, holding onto his gaze.  “Just need to get a couple more things in my suitcase and we’ll be right down.”

“Cool then I’ll see you two down there in a minute.” 

“Yeah we’ll be right behind you,” Ritchie replied,  his stare still unwavering from Aliesa’s.

Scott grinned goofily at the picture the two of them made, and with a pat on Ritchie’s back he was out the door.

And as soon as he was out of sight Aliesa cut loose.

“Ali?  Who said you got to call me Ali?”

Ritchie rolled his eyes.  Aliesa continued to rant.

“And I told you that I couldn’t go!”

“Well you just told Scott you could and you can’t back out now.  So stop complaining and let’s get this over with already.”

She glared. 

“What?  You think you’re not the only one who doesn’t want to go.  You think I want to pretend I’m happy to be with you when I can’t stand another minute with you?” Ritchie ushered her out the door before she could protest. 

“I swear to God if it wasn’t for my career I would have told you in front of Scott exactly where you could shove it.”

“Which is exactly what I’m here for.”  He grabbed a hold of her hand as the elevator doors opened and led the way.  “We are doing stuff for your career, both our careers. So just smile.  Play nice.  Bat your eyelashes.  And then you can go off to LA and stay as far away from me as possible.”

She made a motion to yank her hand free, but halted herself when she caught sight of Ritchie’s bodyguard looming at the corner.  Instead she whispered tightly into Ritchie’s ear, “Go to hell.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist as the elevator stopped at its destination with a ding, “Already there babe,” he mumbled just loud enough for her to catch it.

He was sure of it.  Aliesa Montaine.  Pop singer.  Hell in a dress. 

Three
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