Page 79 of The Rehoboth Retreat
I sat down on the velvet bench in my dressing hallway, running a hand through my now flawlessly styled hair, and exhaled. “Celeste, relax. He’s getting divorced. It’s not a big deal.”
She laughed. But it was that cold, slow, sarcastic laugh she used right before firing interns. “Oh, really? Is the divorce official? Is it public? Did he issue a press release I missed while I was busy not dying of a stress-induced aneurysm?”
I froze.
Shit.
“No,” I admitted. “It’s… private. He hasn’t said anything publicly.”
“Then congratulations,” she snapped. “You just soft-launched a scandal. The world thinks you seduced some perfect husband away from his vanilla life and lured him into your hot tub of moral decay.”
“I don’t even own a hot tub,” I grumbled, although now that I think about it, that’s completely fucking absurd. I made a mental note to make sure my assistants got me one in all of my houses after this call. How could I not have a single one?
“Well, the internet thinks you do. And now it thinks you’re a cheater. Or worse, a homewrecker with six-pack abs.”
I rubbed my forehead, suddenly aware of how tight my dinner jacket felt against my chest. “Come on. It’s not like I planned any of this. I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like him. I like him. A lot. I’m not gonna ghost him because the optics are bad.”
“I’m not asking you to ghost him. I’m asking you tofixthis. You need to get him to go public. Make a statement. Tell the world he’s already been separated and divorced. That you’re not a side piece.”
“Jesus,” I said. “You really think I’m gonna push him into a press release the night of our second—maybe first date? He’s a private person. His life is tidy and controlled. He’s not like us.”
“Exactly,” Celeste said, exasperated. “Which is why this is adisaster. He’s never been involved in anything like this. But you? You’ve got a rap sheet of PR nightmares and enough Google results to choke a mainframe.”
I stood up and paced. The sharp tap of my loafers on the marble floors echoed in the hallway. “Yeah, and I’ve survived all of it. The breakup with Jackson, the drunken award show speech, the time I threw a mimosa at a brunch critic—”
“That was a good throw,” she admitted, begrudgingly.
“Damn right it was,” I smirked, but it faded just as fast. “Look, I can deal with this fallout. I’ve always dealt. But Miles? He doesn’t deserve this. He’s not built for people coming after him online. For strangers telling him he’s a slut because of some leaked photos.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. For once, Celeste was quiet.
“I know you don’t want to hurt him,” she finally said, her voice softer now. “But that’s exactly what might happen if this thing spirals. You need to talk to him. NOW!”
Then came the sharpclickof her hanging up.
I stood there in my polished shoes and creaseless pants, suddenly feeling like the most overdressed jackass in Delaware.
Because for all the champagne and charm and jokes I’d slung today, I hadn’t thought about what it meant for Miles. I didn’t think about how easilymyderanged life could crash into his picture-perfect world and shatter everything he worked so hard to build.
I pulled out my phone again and scrolled through the notifications. The story was spreading like wildfire—cheap digital tabloids, Reddit threads, and plenty of social media trolls doing their usual thing.
“Guess Hudson Knight’sfinally moved on from Jackson… to married men now?”
“Isn’t that the guy who’s always organizing spice racks on TV? Damn, talk about opposites attract.”
“Imagine cheating on your husband for a walking scandal. Trash attracts trash.”
I winced.
EvenIcouldn’t snark my way around that one.
I tossed my phone onto the bed and let out a guttural, frustrated sound—half groan, half expletive, fully defeated. I stared at the ceiling like it might offer an answer.
It didn’t.
Instead, all I could think about was Miles. His soft laugh. The way he flushed when I complimented him. The way he kissed me—unexpected, spontaneous, beautiful.
And now he was probably somewhere reading the same headlines, feeling like his entire life was unraveling.
