Page 312 of The Christmas Wife

"Fuck." She halts, then locks her elbows at her sides. "Of course, it’s an intimate picture. It looks like exactly what it is. The morning after a night spent fucking."

"Two nights, actually."

She turns on me. "Are you even taking this seriously?"

"I’m here, aren’t I?"

She crosses the floor, then comes to a stop in front of me. "You don’t seem put out by what’s happened."

"Should I be?"

"Don’t!" She throws up her hand. "Don’t give me that. You know this means it ties you and me together. It means, it casts doubts on my talent, on my career, on everything I’ve worked to achieve."

"All that picture shows is that we are in a relationship. It doesn't take away from your talent because you’ve already built an outstanding profile as a fixer. You did this before we met. Of course, I’d want to hire you because of your abilities. You’re not a newbie. This image doesn’t take away from your abilities as a PR consultant at all.”

She looks into my face. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted it to come out that we’re together, so you could push me into making an announcement with you. So you could announce to the world that we’re getting married. I can just see the headlines." She mimes a rectangle with her fingers. "The love story of the decade." She lowers her hands to her sides. "It’s the kind of story that could propel you all the way to Downing Street."

"You have to admit, it’s going to thaw the most cynical of hearts. Nothing like a marriage to give you a poll bounce," I admit.

"In fact," —she narrows her gaze— "I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the one who leaked the picture."

I try to wipe all expression from my face, but I must be too slow. Her jaw drops. "Oh, my god, it was you. You slipped that picture to the media. And you did it to force my hand."

I shuffle my feet. I could deny it, of course, but it’s not my style to hide behind lies. Besides, I don’t regret doing it. If this is the only way to get her to marry me, then so be it. Once we’re together, I can smooth over everything else. I can take care of her, ensure that she doesn’t get too stressed, ensure that she has the kind of career she deserves—one beyond merely being the fixer to becoming the person who makes the news, who has a positive impact on society and the community. She has so much potential, this woman. All she needs is someone to help unlock it for her… And that’s what I’m going to do, I’m?—

"No." She takes a step back.

"Eh?"

"I’m not doing it. I’m not going to marry you. I’m not going to make a joint announcement with you. I will not be manipulated into a place where you make me feel like I have no options. I always have a choice, and I choose not to fall in line with your plan."

48

Zara

"Oh, my god, Zara, how are you holding up?" Solene’s face wears an expression of absolute horror mixed with sympathy. She’s the media darling, the upcoming music superstar. Of all my friends, she’s the one most likely to understand what it means to be in the eye of a media shitstorm.

"Umm, I’m not sure, actually." I roll my shoulders, where a permanent ache seems to have taken up residence. "I’ve only ever been on the other side of the scandal. I’m the fixer. I’m not the one who's supposed to be in the eye of the storm."

I glance out the window of my apartment, where I’ve been holed up the last forty-eight hours. The crowd of paparazzi has only grown since that showdown I had with Hunter. After which, he left without making a statement, which only sent the journalists into a tizzy.

The speculation about our relationship has grown in an exponential fashion. From online blogs and social media, to tabloids, to the broadsheet newspapers, and today, the headlinesof the leading financial daily. Everyone is asking if we’re together, and if so, what we have to hide since we haven’t bothered to address the rumors. One of them asked if I was pregnant. I read that article, then promptly rushed to the bathroom and got sick.

After that, I stopped checking the internet for the latest developments on the story. Instead, I have my team keeping track of the coverage. Abby keeps me up to date, shielding me from the details, but sharing highlights as they unfold, without going into the gory parts. She’s only been on the job for a few days, but she’s a fast learner. Kate and the rest of my team have warned me that every minute I delay only adds fuel to the conjecture around our relationship. As if I don’t know that. It’s PR 101 to address the postulations around a theory head on, in order to kill them. If you shut your ears to it and ignore the rumors, they rarely go away. More often than not, they take on a life of their own, which will snowball to affect other areas of our lives. As is happening to Hunter.

The speculation is affecting his ratings, as evidenced in the latest polls. His approval has dropped by five points since the picture of our being together broke. Of course, you could argue that he brought it down on himself. And yet… He did it because he wanted me enough to risk everything. He risked my ire, risked his career, risked so much… Just so he could coerce me into marrying him. Of course, he could have just asked… But when he did, I refused to give him an answer. I still haven’t given him an answer. I can’t give him an answer, not when there’s so much unanswered in my own life.

I glance around my apartment. I need to get out of here. Need to go to the one place where I’ll find some peace of mind so I can think. Which means, I need to leave without drawing the attention of the paps. I need a diversion.

I pick up my phone and make a few calls.

"You sure about this?" Isla asks.

"It’ll work, won’t it?" Abby shuffles her feet nervously.

Only Kate seems completely unruffled by what I proposed. The woman’s cool in the face of pressure. Almost as collected as I normally am—when it’s a situation that does not have me at the center of it. It’s so much easier to take stock of a crisis when you’re not the one in the eye of the storm. I’ll never underestimate the courage of my clients after this.

I just need perspective on the situation. A chance to get my bearings and feel myself again, and then it will be fine. I trust myself to make the right decision. I simply need a little space to get to that point.

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