“He’s right,” I spoke up, sitting straighter in my chair. “On both counts. In every photo or interview you’ve given for years, you look like some kind of Byronic hero. The brooding and pouting are sexy, sure, but it’s not very fitting for a man who is newly head over heels in love.”
Adam’s scowl deepened. “I’m a rather accomplished actor, if you both did not know. I think I can manage.”
“And,” I continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I don’t think we need all our dates planned out. Remember what you promised me at Affaire the other day? We might not be dating, but we are about to have a relationship that will last for some time…” I looked at his team for confirmation because we hadn’t actually discussed the longevity of the contract yet.
“Three years,” Mi Cha and his manager, Chaucer, said at the same time.
I swallowed thickly, rocked by the commitment.
“Three years,” I echoed. “We are going to be living together for most of that time. I won’t be roommates with someone who wears a suit to breakfast.”
Chaucer and Rachel Hoffman hid their grins behind their hands, but Sebastian had the audacity to chuckle at my dig.
I beamed at him and then turned it back on Adam, who was staring at me with unnerving intensity. “I understand attending premiers with you, and I’m happy to do that. Some dinner dates at celebrity hot spots, sure. But otherwise, I think we can agree on a set number of dates per week, and we see how we feel at the time about what we want to do.”
“It should be public,” Rachel protested. “That’s the point of this whole charade.”
“If she moves in within three months, they won’t need to be seen out together as much,” Mali Issah, my new agent, countered for me. “Premiers and events, the odd dinner should be good enough. People will be buzzing about the new girl in town, and it will do just as much for Adam’s reputation as it will for Linnea’s burgeoning career as an actress.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said with a hint of smugness just to watch Adam glower at me. Riling him up was shockingly entertaining. “And I call dibs on our first date.”
“Dibs?” Adam echoed, deadpan.
I nodded curtly. “Dibs. It will be public, but I get to plan it.” When he remained silent for a moment, I added, “Aren’t youcurious, Adam?”
If I hadn’t been looking closely enough, I might not have noticed the twitch of his mouth as he fought a smile.
“Fine,” he agreed. “But I want us to get married.”
The air whooshed out of my mouth so hard, I started to choke on it.
Sebastian dropped his hand to my back and rubbed my spine as I recovered.
“You didn’t have to drop it like that,” Sebastian groused.
Adam only smiled slightly, proud that he got me back for my callback to our conversation at Affaire.
“Do we have to?” I asked. “I feel like dating for three years is good enough.”
“It isn’t when you factor in an adequate amount for time for dating, engagement, and marriage itself without it seeming rudely truncated and therefore causing even more rumors that could damage Adam’s career,” Mi Cha explained.
“Hollywood weddings are America’s equivalent of royal weddings. Everything in Adam’s history will be effectively erased in the public memory after a big white wedding to abeautiful up-and-coming actress who is a Hollywood legacy,” Chaucer added.
I snorted. “I’m hardly a legacy.”
“On that we agree,” Adam said, and I couldn’t help my slight flinch as the words burrowed beneath my skin.
“Linnea.” I looked back at him to see his mouth had softened. “I only meant that you have more talent and drive than your mother ever cared to cultivate.”
I blinked at him. It wasn’t the nicest comment about my mother, but it was the bald-faced truth. And it felt monumental to have such a comment—a compliment—from a caliber of actor like Adam Meyers.
“Thank you,” I said. “But you haven’t even seen me in anything.”
Adam pursed his lips, but his eyes sparkled. “I may have streamed the four episodes ofSwamplandsyou guest starred in.”
Beside me, Sebastian made a noise of surprise that mirrored my own.
“Oh my God.” I laughed, hiding my face in my hands for a moment. “Are you serious?”
