Page 12 of The American

They rose to the top, the eighteenth floor. He used a key to push the bottom. When the doors opened, it was into the front entryway of his apartment. The penthouse living area spread before her, warmed and lit by a wall of floor to ceiling windows overlooking Central Park.

She rushed to the windows. “This is magnificent.”

“I couldn’t stand not having a little bit of green. I love the city, but I need a little beauty in my life.”

She studied the park. “You can even see the boats from here.” The little remote controlled boats were a favorite stop for her ever since she was a little girl visiting from Texas. “And there’s the pavilion where people can play chess.” She turned to him. “You know, that is so charming. I’ve never done it before. Do people actually set up and play there?”

“You’re asking me?” He chuckled. “I did walk over there to check it out myself. And people were in fact, playing actual chess.” He turned to look at her. She felt his gaze, but she paused before she returned it.

“This is crazy, Thad. What are we going to do?” She felt trapped. Her job on the line, her reputation she had taken years to build. What would happen to her as a CEO of only three weeks, with this whole press fervor over a supposed relationship with her partner, and then a parting of ways? She might be done in Manhattan.

He reached for her hand. “At least I enjoy working with you.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh stop. That’s how we got in trouble in the first place.”

“I don’t see what’s so terrible about us going on a date, hugging along the water. It was romantic. What kind of man would I be if it had been any different?”

She remembered how easy she had made it for him to kiss her and he forbore. “Thank you for pausing. This could have been so much worse.”

“Are you discussing how I did not kiss your soft lips in the way they should be?”

She felt her face heat. “Thad, yes. Ugh. We don’t need to talk about it, just thanks.”

He laughed. “Why not discuss it? Of all the topics this is the one I find most interesting.”

She opened her mouth in dismay, not sure what to say, but he waved a hand. “I’m teasing. And you’re welcome. Though I will say, you are difficult to resist.” His eyes spoke his sincerity and she felt the heat rise between them.

She moved to sit on the sofa, putting some space between them. “So, what are your thoughts? I need some clarity.”

“I say we start slow.”

“What?”

“Zachary cannot dictate who we marry. Really, or who we date, but since I am not opposed at all to getting to know you better as a date, I’m willing to give the press a little fun.”

She studied him, not sure how to respond.

“Oh, come on, you know we were bound to date anyway.” His smile was large and contagious.

She loved his confidence, his no-nonsense way of discussing things. “Ok, so we date, and what? Give the press a show?”

“This, my dear, is where I have the most experience. Yes, we decide what is the story we are telling them, and then only show them that much. There are ways to keep certain aspects of our relationship private and others public.” He paused, a frown forming around his eyes. “But I would like to bring in some extra security for you, if you don’t mind. Your life changes when you suddenly become a figure head. I can’t avoid it, but consider if you really want this. Is your job as CEO worth giving up your privacy?”

She didn’t know. One more thing to consider. “And what if Zachary pushes the marriage?”

He stared out the window before responding. “I think we don’t give him all the information.”

“I’m listening.”

He stood. “I need my whiteboard.”

She laughed and followed him around a corner into his own conference room. “I love this. Only a true CEO would have a conference room in his penthouse.”

“I had it built before I moved in.” He uncapped a marker and began writing on the board. “The way I see it, we have three months of great marketing out of this, us, before we either have to change things up, or we fizzle away into all the other people the press has forgotten.” He stopped and bit on the end of his marker. “But we could stretch it out longer if we spread out our shocking or noteworthy moments, dangling the audience along.”

“You really are an expert at this.”

He nodded, still writing. “I’m the Prince over Press in Torren. I’ve been dealing with these people for years.” He held up his marker. “In fact, if we bring a few of the brothers out when the numbers start to fall, they can boost us right back up. Bring in an ex, same thing. A little conflict and scandal always boosts sales.” He held up his marker. “And if we are crafty, we may not need a marriage at all.”

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