“The marriage… It’s helping,” she says, shifting her eyes to the floor. “With buzz. Exposure. My fans are into it. It’s been good for my career.”
I don’t flinch. I knew this was coming. Hell, I expected it. But something about the way she sayscareermakes it feel like a wall going up between us.
She takes a breath, looks me dead in the eye, and says, “But I don’twant to use you. Not your name, or your image, or your fame. I want people to know me for me.”
I let a beat stretch between us, thinking of the magnitude of her statement. Then I say, as calm as ever, “Use me.”
She blinks. “What?”
“I don’t mind,” I say, sitting across from her. “If this helps you, use me. Let them believe whatever they want to believe as long as it gets them to hear you.”
Her mouth opens, ready to argue, and I cut her off gently. “I half expected the media to be all over this.”
“A fake marriage? Really?” She looks at me as if she doesn’t know what to do with someone standing by her.
I pull out my phone. “Why not? I’ll have a contact made. A year is respectable.”
“That’s what my manager, Ray, said.”
“Great. I’ll have a contract drawn up. I wasn’t thinking that we needed one, but if that’s what you want, I’m game.” I pause for a second, then say, “I made a list.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Alist?”
“Yeah. A list of the things I’d like to do…” I pull out my phone and scroll through my notes, “with you.” She doesn’t know I have them committed to memory. I’ve had a long flight to think about it. But I’m not ready for this to be over.
I continue, “And I want us to take a road trip. We could go anywhere; maybe we could go to a small town somewhere, or a cabin, just you and me. You’ll have to come to my games,” I shrug, maybe I’m being presumptuous, so I take a step back, “I mean, some of them.”
I take a breath and look at her to judge her mood. She’s listening. That’s good. I continue, “I want to hear all your songs.” I don’t mention how badly I want the opportunity to do this. “I suggest we spend a week somewhere without cameras. And I’ll even cook you a dinner that doesn’t involve a microwave.”
Her lip twitches, and it hits me harder than it should. That little almost-smile. It’s a crack in the armor she wears like a second skin.
“Well, now that last one is amazing.” She smiles.
Damn, she’s beautiful. Then, I became excited at the thought that she might agree, and that maybe I was wearing her down.
I hold my breath, waiting for the verdict like I’m a man on trial for murder. Will she take the bait? Or, does she need more assurance that I’m a good guy?
“I’ll make you a deal,” I add hastily. “We keep the marriage. You can call it fake, call it a strategy, whatever you want. Being married helps us both.”
She looks at me like I’m the one doing her a favor, and maybe I am, but I don’t care.
“You’re making it sound like this benefits you,” she says slowly.
I shrug. “It does. I’ve been on the naughty list this year, and it will work for me, too. I have a past of breakups, so a quick divorce isn’t good for me. The optics are terrible. It’s not a great look for you, either. Besides, my PR team already thinks I make impulsive decisions. I don’t want to be the one they talk about in the office.”
That gets a hearty laugh out of her—short, dry, but it’s there. Her guard doesn’t drop as much as I’d like, but I’ll take it. It’s a sign that she’s lightening up, and that means she might go for it.
Then, she sighs. “This is insane.” But she’s smiling, and my heart lurches over the possibility of waking up with her in my arms.
“Completely,” I say. “But I’m still here.” I spread my hands as if I’m pleading my case. And I suppose I am.
She looks down at her ring, then back up. “I don’t know how this works, Finn. I’ve never seen two people stay married. And I’ve never seen a marriage where both people have a career. I don’t know how to make it work. It seems like it only works in the movies and romance novels. Someone always ends up making all the sacrifices. And it can’t be me.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say. “I’ve got some commitments this summer—some promo stuff, media appearances—before the season starts. But we’ll work it out. I’ll be supportive of your career.”
She stares at me like she’s waiting for the catch.
I don’t give her one.
