Page 71 of Morally Black Betrothal
The news leaked to the press a bit sooner than I anticipated, so we’re getting ahead of it.
What does that mean?
Brendan
Ruth should have explained that to you. An official engagement announcement has been sent to the Globe. We’ll need to do an interview. But today, just being seen together should counter the rumors with our truth.
“Our truth.” Notthetruth.
The difference was subtle, but I knew exactly what he meant.
This relationship was anything but true.
Still, something else was bugging me.
Which rumors?
I stared at the floating dots for a minute or so until only a link preview appeared in the chat box. The headline from theHeraldwas enough.
TALK ABOUT GOOD HEALTHCARE! Boston Candy Striper Seen Canoodling with The Black Prince
I cringed. Anxiety washed over me as I clicked on the article, a few paragraphs about the fact that Brendan and I had met at Mass General and were later seen kissing at his office. It was vague enough that neither of us would be able to place who exactly was the “source” that had given the story to theHerald. But whoever it was had no interest in calling me his betrothed.
I knew my life was about to change, but it was all going so quickly. I needed everything to slow down. Just so I could breathe. Maybe perfect another pastry recipe or two to clear my head.
I can’t move today. I haven’t even told my family yet. I need some more time, please.
The three moving dots floated on my screen for a solid five minutes before a reply appeared:
Brendan
You signed a contract. Whenever I need. And you’ve had a week.
Well, what did I expect? Flowers? Hearts? Basic gratitude or consideration?
If I needed a reminder not to get emotionally involved in whatever this was, his text was the splash of cold water I needed.
That said, the contract hadnotsaid anything about “whenever.” It had said I was to have a relationship with him, not be his personal handmaid.
I had a life.
I still had a job, even if it was just a volunteer position.
I wasn’t going to let a bossy, domineering, admittedly gorgeous bully tell me what I could do with every moment of every day.
Not even for ten million bucks.
Brendan
Put your ring on before you leave.
“Are you kidding?” I gaped at the text, then at Ruth, who was happily riffling through my cookbook collection, the traitor. She must have texted him.
It was the last straw.
I finished my coffee and cleaned my mug, then went to change into scrubs. I didn’t officially have a shift today, but I was sure they could find a place for me. I certainly wasn’t going to stay here.
“This bracelet is quite nice.” Ruth was busy sifting through my mother’s jewelry box. “I think we could—oh!” Her eyes popped wide open when she saw me emerge from the bathroom. “What are you wearing?”
