Page 17 of Accidentally Yours
“Fake date,” Marsha repeated, like it was the most logical conclusion in the world. “The pictures of you two at Midnight Sweets went viral overnight. The internet already believes you’re together. We’d be fools not to capitalize on it.”
Ethan had seen the photos—Paige “swooning” in his arms, their hands nearly touching as they shared a slice of pie. His social media had exploded with speculation. #EthanColeMovedOn had been trending all morning, which, apparently, had sent Kaylor and Marsha into matchmaking mode.
“I saw the post go viral and reached out to Marsha with the idea,” Kaylor said, glowing with pride.
Marsha arched a brow, but didn’t look at Kaylor. “And despite the fact that Kaylor has been here for about two seconds, and I’ve been in publishing since she was in preschool, I liked it. It’s a good idea.”
Kaylor beamed, either missing or ignoring the dig.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ethan admitted, fighting the urge to smirk. The situation wasn’t actually funny, but he was used to people gossiping about his life, assuming they knew him. He’d learned that fighting it was harder than just letting them talk.
Paige, however, looked ready to riot.
“What am I? A trope in a rom-com?” She scoffed. “I’m not an actor. I don’t fake date. I write books. That’s the job.”
“That’s part of the job,” Marsha corrected smoothly, unmoved. “The other part is selling books. And nothing sells better than a love story. Especially a real one.”
“But it’snotreal,” Paige countered, turning to Ethan, clearly looking for backup.
He shifted in his seat, planting his feet on the ground. At one time, he thought he understood what made love real—but he wasn’t so sure anymore. Love, he’d learned, wasn’t about words or grand gestures. It was about trust. And trust? That was the part that always crumbled.
Love could be a carefully constructed illusion, something people convinced themselves was real . . . until it shattered. But attraction? That was different. That was instant, undeniable. And he’d felt it, clear as day, when he held Paige yesterday. The way she’d looked up at him, wide-eyed, startled. The part of her lips, like she’d forgotten to breathe. Her faint, sweet scent still lingered in his thoughts, distracting him at the worst moments.
There’d been a flicker of something. Something sharp. Electric.
It wouldn’t be hard to pretend to be Paige’s boyfriend.
It might even be fun.
“Ethan?” Paige’s voice pulled him back. All three women were watching him, waiting.
He straightened, offering Marsha a casual shrug. “I’m in if Paige is.”
Marsha gave a rare grin. Kaylor clapped.
“What?” Paige’s head snapped back so fast he was mildly concerned for her neck.
Ethan lifted a shoulder. “It makes sense. People are already talking. We might as well use it to our advantage.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Paige stared at him like he’d just agreed to sell his soul.
“They’re going to talk, whether or not we want them to,” he replied evenly. “Besides, this way, we control the narrative.”
“And the narrative is that Ethan Cole and Paige Moon are in love. They know what romance is.” Marsha glared at them over the table like she was laying down a winning poker hand. “Ethan, you need to capitalize on this to attract a larger female readership. Paige, you need to regain the trust of your readers. Create a fantasy. Show the world you know what love is, so they know without a doubt that you can write it. And that you won’t kill it.”
Paige winced. Then she turned to Ethan, and they exchanged a glance. He shrugged, trying to tell her this was no big deal. It would be easy.
Paige exhaled sharply, as if Marsha’s comments had worn her down. “What exactly are we supposed to do to ‘fake date’?” She made air quotes, her skepticism still present.
“It won’t be that hard,” Ethan replied. “We’re going to be together, anyway, searching for clues. We’ll just take a few photos along the way.”
“You’ll send them to me,” Kaylor added, her gaze bouncing between them. “Marketing will post them on our socials. If you take video, we can make reels. There’s this trending dance on TikTok—”
“No dancing,” Paige cut in, her glare snapping Kaylor’s mouth shut mid-sentence. “Absolutely no TikTok dancing. I will not go that low for anything.”
Ethan smothered a laugh. He liked Paige’s bluntness. She didn’t sugarcoat, didn’t waste time. It was refreshing.
“No dancing,” he agreed with a nod. “But a few pictures? To help push preorders of our book? It’s not the worst idea.”
