Page 84 of Finding Lord Landry

If I shared my feelings with Kenji and he rejected me now, it would break me.

So maybe in a few weeks, after I’d finished my ill-fated attempt at becoming an MP, I’d be able to stomach some kind of final reckoning. I’d fly to New York and confess everything to him, and when he turned me down, I’d manage a dignified exit that allowed us to keep working together and remain friends. Then, I’d slink back to London and lose myself in family obligations.

But in the meantime, my self-control was all I had.

Unfortunately, that self-control didn’t include moments in which the press dared to disparage Kenji Toma.

“Don’t do it,” Nan warned as I shoved back from the kitchen table in a fit of rage.

“This is unacceptable!” I spat, poking the screen of her tablet with my forefinger so hard the joint bent back a little bit. That was fine—the flare of pain only fueled my anger. “They do not get to make up blatant lies about my husband!”

It was late, and Kenji had already gone to bed. I could only hope he wasn’t scrolling social media.

I’d come downstairs in search of ice for my recovery shake after my workout and found Cora, Dad, and Nan sharing a bottle of wine. It hadn’t taken much convincing to swap my recovery drink for a glass of cabernet, and I’d enjoyed the normalcy of settling down to a bit of gossip.

Until Nan’s tablet had buzzed with a salacious headline.

SLEEPING WITH THE HELP? NO, MARRYING THEM! LORD HAWLING GIVES HIS COMMONER SECRETARY A NEW TITLE—HUSBAND! BUT TOMA IS ALREADY CONSIDERING OTHER OPTIONS…

Under the headline was a photo of Kenji standing next to Jamie Winthrop, beaming up at him. Jamie’s face was creased in a grin, making it look for all the world like the two of them were flirting. Instead of the actual reason for their grins, which had been the fact the proffered cups of hot chocolate had featured soccer-ball-shaped mini marshmallows, for fuck’s sake.

Now, obviously, I needed to murder a few people.

“Nan, get the crisis management people on the phone. No, don’t tell me it’s too late at night,” I insisted when she opened her mouth to argue. “What’s the point of having gobs of money if you can’t get immediate response? I want this headline removed before the rest of the world wakes up,andI want a printed retraction and personal apology from this reporter, whoever they are. If they refuse, get our legal team involved. I will sue them so comprehensively their fate will become urban legend?—”

“To be fair,” Cora said mildly, swirling her wineglass in the air, “Youaresleeping with the help. And Jamie Winthropisattractive and charming.”

I pierced her with a glare. “Kenji and I are not sleeping together.”

Cora lifted an accusatory eyebrow.

“Fine,” I gritted. “Technically, we’resleepingtogether. But we’re not…”

Nan winced. “TMI, darling.” My father grunted his agreement.

I ignored them since my face was already on fire from anger. “Kenji Toma would no more cheat on me with Jamie Winthrop than… than…” I blew out a breath. “Than he’d be caught dead at an all-you-can-eat buffet, or cut in front of a little old lady in a queue at the market, or put mayonnaise on literally anything. Or be late for a meeting. Or wear acrylic knits. Or sleep on microfiber sheets. Or marry me for real.”

Now, it was Nan’s eyebrow of judgment that winged up.

I deflated. “He just wouldn’t. Not now. Not while he’s pretending to be my husband. Kenji Toma bleeds integrity. He deserves better than this disgusting gossip-mongering.”

Cora set her glass down with aplink. “You’re acting like it’s the first time any of us has been the subject of a disgusting headline.”

Nan nodded and patted Dad’s arm. “Cora’s right. I remember your father asking me what a ‘situationship’ was when there was a rumor about you dating that singer friend of yours a couple of years ago.”

If I wasn’t so angry, I would’ve laughed at the memory of those rumors. Zane and I had been arrested together for causing damage to a hotel room, and even though plenty of other people had been involved, someone had snapped a chance photo of me with my arm around Zane. My head had been turned—shouting an expletive at one of Zane’s misbehaving fans—causing the photo to look like I was kissing Zane’s head.

I’d given a framed copy of the photo to Zane for Christmas recently with the innocently stated hope he’d hang it in his new place in Majestic. His bodyguard boyfriend had growled and toed the photo under the sofa in Dev and Tully’s living room, and I’d laughed my ass off.

Now that Kenji was the one in the media’s crosshairs, though, I understood Ryan’s irrational anger and desire to salt the earth. It wasn’t funny at all.

“It’s more than one awful headline.” I tried to explain. “After having his face splashed all over the internet and gossip magazines, he’ll be recognized in public. Whispered about. He won’t be able to move on after this without long-term repercussions.”

Cora lifted her shoulders. “It’s part of being a Davencourt. He’ll get used to it.”

“But that’s just it—he’snota Davencourt!” I reminded her.

Kenji had a life to get back to, and I didn’t want our fake marriage to ruin it.

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