Page 46 of Never Been Worse

“Four months,” I say quickly. It’s the planned answer to line up with the timeline for our relationship Jeremy and Clarissa have made. According to them, Jeremy and I broke up months ago, hence why he and Clarissa are already so close. “We kept things quiet for a bit since we had mutual friends and wanted to make sure it wasn’t something that would blow up in our faces. But then we decided to just go for it.”

“You mentioned on social media last year that you were planning to announce a fashion line but haven’t spoken of it since. What happened there?” Marty asks with a smug smile, and my body stills because I did not anticipate them asking about me and my life.

We’d been given a list of questions to expect, all pre-approved by Leo, as I’ve been told is the norm. Nothing about my business was on that list or something I anticipated. Still, there’s no going back, so I keep it simple.

“I just wasn’t inspired, you know?” I say tightly. “There’s been a lot going on, and I just…” I hesitate, smiling at Wes. “I decided I wanted more time to perfect things and to devote my energy to my current clients.”

“There’s some speculation your business is struggling,” he says, a sneaky smile spreading on his lips that I do not like. “You spent some time dating the head of marketing at Astor Fashion, and he recently told the press he was often giving you tips on how to change your designs to improve them. Do you have any commentary on that?”

My blood goes cold, both from the question and the all-consumingrageflowing through me at the idea that this is the bullshit Jeremy is spreading. This is the shit he is brewing up in his campaign against me.

All of this and forwhat? Daring to live my life after him? Not letting my business and my name crumble to the ground just because his little bitch of a new girlfriend decided she doesn’t like me?

The interviewer stares at me with some kind ofgotchaface, his co-host looking at him with a hint of confusion and irritation, like she didn’t see this coming either, before he continues on.

“He then went on this morning to say you were doing all of this as some publicity stunt to save your drowning business. Let me read the statement he gave after your first interview this morning.” His attention goes to some teleprompter behind me as he begins reading.

“Ms. Abbott is clearly continuing in her quest of gold-digging, looking for the next best thing after detonating her relationship with me. I wish Mr. Holden all the best and hope he has a really good prenup in place—and cameras on his lawn in case Ms. Holden decides to vandalize his home when he ends things.”

Marty looks absolutely jovial as he reads this statement, and I want tohithim. I get it, really, I do. His job is to get some kind of juicy sound bite he can twist and manipulate to get views and money, but right now, I hate him.

I give a tight, uncomfortable smile, trying to figure out how to dismantle this without making things worse, but it turns out, I don’t have to.

“We’re done here,” Wes says, standing before I can even think of something to say.

“What?” Marty asks, shock on his face as Wes puts his hand out to me.

“I said, we’re done here,” Wes repeats in a deep voice that moves through me like fire, warming all of the cold spots my panic created. From my peripheral, I see a few cameras, both studio and cell phone, raised and pointed in our direction, but all I can do is focus on Wes’s hand in mine, his angry face pointed at the D-list celebrity before us.

“I still have a few questions, Wes. We—” Marty tries, but Wes shakes his head as I grab his hand. Wes grips mine tight before he pulls me up and into his arms, wrapping one around me as if to protect me from whatever threat might come.

“And you lost the privilege to speak to my wife and me the second you started to spew that bullshit. I won’t sit by and have anyone speak to her like that, to question her motives so blatantly, much less in front of me. I love this woman more than life itself, and it might be untraditional, but when has Atlas Oaks ever been traditional?You’ve hadwhat, four divorces, Marty? Maybe you work on your own issues instead of creating them for others.”

And then we’re moving, Wes walking us off stage as he rips off his mic and throws it on the ground. We’re almost off the stage, those cameras still following our every move like this is someJerry Springerepisode and they’re going to follow us backstage.

Wes stops us before we’re fully off the sound stage, pulling me in close. His skin brushes against mine as he moves into the back of my dress to remove my own mic. It follows his to the ground with a clatter before he’s tugging me once more toward the greenroom I changed in when we got here.

SEVENTEEN

WES

I don’t know what I was thinking, storming off like that, but I know Leo is going to want to beat my ass when he finds out I just left Marty Man’s show in a rage.

I’d do it again, too, especially with the look of panic and sadness that was written all over Harper’s face when the asshole read thebiggerasshole's statement on live television. I wanted to punch Marty when he first brought up her dating someone else recently, but I also knew there was a distinct possibility this would happen despite the network having sent over their questions previously and Leo approving them.

After Stella and Riggs brought all of their dirty laundry to light when they got back together, the press has been more interested in our band than ever, digging into everyone’s history to try and find some kind of misdeed, something that doesn’t match or line up with whatever story we’re selling.

But I stupidly didn’t expect the cannon to be aimed at my wife.

“Wes—” Harper starts, then stumbles as I move quickly to the greenroom. I catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady, my fingers digging into her side protectively as we continue to move on a mission.

I need to get out of the eyes of everyone around us.

I need to get Harper alone.

“Not here,” I growl.

“What?”

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