Page 74 of Fool's Gold

I lean in to Jacob, rising on the tips of my toes, and say against his ear, “Did you tell them where we were going?”

He shakes his head. “Someone must have done a social media post about the contracts being signed. More than likely, they were heading toward the executive office for a chance to catch us.” He sounds pleased.

“This isn’t your doing, is it?”

The crowd gets closer, and Jacob holds up his free hand, making sure I’m tight against his side before he speaks. “Everyone, everyone, calm down,” he calls out with a laugh.

“Mr. Kessler, can you tell us about your new relationship?” The nearest woman holds out a handheld mic, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and her dark eyes fixated solely on Jacob.

The word strikes me, and my mouth drops open before I somehow find my composure. “Wait a minute, our what?”

“Your relationship,” the woman repeats. “I’m with the Los Angeles Times, and the information was confirmed by your manager months ago. We’ve been hoping for an interview, but he’s refused.”

Confirmed by…my manager?

I stiffen, every inch of me going taut and hot and undeniably queasy. What did Marcus say to them? Why would he—

“What relationship?” I blurt out.

“Aw, come on.” This time there is no mistaking my shock, and Jacob nudges me lightly. “It’s cute. I’ve just been going along with it.”

I sputter and bite down on my lip to keep from saying something the press will no doubt quote me on for the rest of my life. I don’t want them making things up, either. But they aren’t making things up. Not if they spoke to Marcus.

That no good, lying piece of fucking scum.

Jacob apparently takes my silence as the green light and plows ahead, going with the flow. “The relationship between myself and Miss Stone is entirely new. We are enjoying each other’s company and look forward to the chance to work together on our upcoming film.”

“Details?” The woman presses. “What can we expect from the film?”

“Let’s just say there will be several sweet scenes where I’m sure I won’t have to act.”

He casts a serene smile down at me, and the cacophony of voices shifts into a melodic aww in unison. I can only do the same, angling to cast mine out over the crowd. Empty inside.

The space inside me that had felt prepared to heal has been scraped raw yet again, the scars reopened. The world turns upside down. Especially since Marcus bent me over a desk and fucked me two nights ago.

“You know what? I’m actually going to head home,” I murmur to Jacob the moment the press gives us a little bit of breathing space.

No thanks to him. I get the feeling he’d have been happy to stand there letting them fire their questions off for the remainder of the afternoon. My guards stepped in to clear the way for us, but by the time they did, my fingers shook uncontrollably, a sure sign of distress.

“Are you sure? I don’t need to go to the Vogue shoot for another two hours,” Jacob replies.

“I’m entirely sure. Thank you for coming with me today.” I kiss his cheek, ignoring the flash of desire in his eyes, and turn away as quickly as possible.

Jacob doesn’t call me back, and I ignore the press, most of them happier to have him at the center of their attention anyway.

Fuck this day.

Fuck my life.

Fuck me right in the ass because Marcus might have made his claim that he wants out of my life, but this is him showing me. It’s a giant middle finger in the form of an endorsement. Who the fuck did he think he was, making up those kinds of things without talking to me about it first?

Yeah, Jacob and I are friendly. We’ve been spending more time together lately because it’s so easy to be with him. Don’t I deserve some easy friendship?

Apparently those kinds of things come with strings attached, and the strings are called new relationship.

“Where are we going, Miss Stone?” the driver asks when I return to the car.

I slide into the back seat, letting out a breath when he pauses near the door. “I want to go home.”

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