Page 69 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

I choke on a bite of salmon, dropping my fork to the table. “It’s not real, OK? It’s a stunt for television. For ratings.”

The whole table goes silent. The sound of more cutlery clinking onto plates is the only noise in an uncomfortably still room.

“I’m not really getting married and I’m not having kids.”

“Ronan, I know you’re worried about passing on the heart condition, but—”

“That’s enough!” My bellow spurs the room into motion again.

I throw back my chair and gesture wildly. “I’ve had enough. Everyone get out!”

They all stare at me like I’ve lost my head. Maybe I have.

“Get out I said.” I point around at the crew. “If you want jobs in the morning, you need to make yourselves scarce. And Mom, don’t you think you’ve said enough? On camera no less.”

“Ronan, calm down.”

I shake my head. “No. You know what? I’m done here. You finish your dinner, if you like. I’m leaving. Goodnight.”

Snatching my phone, keys, and wallet, I storm out the door before anyone dares to stop me. When I stride past Justine, she opens her mouth, but I can’t face whatever she would say right now. From the look in her eyes, she’s hurt by my outburst. I’ve ruined things again. Haven’t played along with the rules of the show she loves so much. By now, I know enough to know her heart was set on the fairytale story.

The sooner I break it to her the better. That’s not going to be us. What we’ve enjoyed has been fun. Captivating, even. But it can’t last. It’s probably time to get that cleared up.

TWENTY NINE

Justine

After Ronan leaves, the crew pack up and we try halfheartedly to finish dinner. I don’t taste any of it.

Nobody sticks around for dessert. Mom and Hamu offer, but I gently turn them down. I need some time to process what happened.

Only, I’m not sure how to do that.

I should have told my parents the thing was staged. That it was fake. I wasn’t sure if Ronan would want me to do that, though, and we didn’t have time to discuss it. I should have known the family dinner was coming. The truth is, I was so distracted today with the spa and the book signing I wasn’t thinking too much about it. Or about anything except how wonderful he had made me feel, pampering me like that.

I hate that I let him down.

Opening my phone, I start to type out a new message. I can’t find the right words, though. It’s getting later and later, but I’ll never be able to sleep tonight if I don’t make sure he’s OK. I just need him not to be angry with me.

When I’ve deleted the fifth draft message, I abandon that approach. Screwing up my courage, I hit call instead.

After the seventh ring, I’ve just about given up hope. I’m about to hang up, when Ronan answers. “I can’t believe you’re calling after that. I hope it really is you and not Amy or one of the other Married for a Day people making you do this.”

I’m tongue tied for a moment. “No, I—it’s me. I just wanted to know if you’re OK. I’m sorry, I’ll—”

He gives a heavy sigh. “You indulge me far too much. I don’t deserve your sympathy.”

I blink. “You’re not angry?”

“Are you?”

“I—no. Just worried.”

There’s a long silence. I’m starting to doubt he’s still there, when he speaks again.

“Justine? Can I ask you to do one more thing for me tonight? I don’t deserve it, but I need something to take my mind off—well I need a distraction.”

My heart stutters against my breastbone and my fingers get all tingly. He wants me to be his distraction? My answer is automatic. “Of course. What can I do?”

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