I say to my ex-boyfriend, “we need to talk.” We’re on the set of his latest film. You know, the one that’s starring his movie star wife about a woman who goes to her ex-boyfriend’s wedding? Yes, that’s the one. The one that’s all about my life. Long story. “I don’t have time to talk, Brooke,” he says, ever the uber-agent to the stars. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re trying to make a movie here.” “About that,” I say. “There’s something you need to know.” “Oh no,” Trip says, “has the screenplay been leaked on the internet?” “No,” I say. “Trip, listen to me. It’s about Douglas. Well, not Douglas, but…. Okay, let me start over. Douglas—I mean, the person who you think is Douglas—isn’t Douglas. That’s why the real Douglas suing us.” “What are you talking about, Brooke?” Trip says, putting down his clipboard and giving me his full attention. “Well, there was a Douglas. A Scottish guy I was living with. But we weren’t engaged when I told you we were—in fact, we were never engaged—and he broke up with me just seconds before your wedding.
