Page 54 of Serving the Couturier

“To be honest, I think they’ll have more of a problem with the fact that you took the lead in their show to a sex club than with what goes on at Show & Tell.”

“I bloody botched this.” We should have been more careful, being in disguise, going in and out, but it was too late to change anything now.

“Look Spencer, I don’t know what’s going on with you and London, but if you don’t give the press something, they’re going to make up shit and considering where you two were last night, I don’t think you want that.”

“You’re right,” I said. “But that’s not a decision I can make on my own.”

“Good answer.” He paused, then continued, “Make sure you don’t fuck up her career with this.”

I didn’t need the warning, but I appreciated he cared about what happened to London. “I won’t.”

We ended the call, and I took a deep breath before turning to face London. She’d been sitting next to me, listening to my half of the conversation, and now I filled her in on what she hadn’t been able to hear. Her cheeks flushed red, then paled as she realized how much damage this story could do if we didn’t take action.

“We can tell them I’m the one who got the invitation to the club opening,” she said once I’d finished the explanation. “That I invited you.”

I shook my head. “I think that’ll just make things worse for you.”

“But that’s better than them making it seem like you’re corrupting me,” she countered. “Because let’s get real. That’s exactly the spin the paparazzi are going to take. They’ll point out that you’re the producer of the show that I got the lead in, and you used that power to your advantage.”

“But that’s not what happened. They can write what they want. They do anyway. I am done caring about what other people think. I could not be bothered with my reputation anymore.”

“You should,” she said. “You have an entire cast and crew relying on you for income. If the show closes, many people will be out of work.”

I shook my head and reached over to cup my cheek. “It shouldn’t surprise me you’re putting everyone else’s well-being above your own.”

“It’s the smart thing to do.” She smiled and put her hand over mine. “You know it is.”

“The smart thing would’ve been for me to stay as far away from you as possible.” I leaned forward and brushed my lips across hers. “But I didn’t, and I don’t regret my decision for a second.”

She put her hand on my chest, and I watched her pupils dilate for a moment before she gave me a gentle push. “I will not let you distract me with sex.”

“You’re right.” I sat back. “We need to take this seriously and figure out what to do.”

“I don’t think anything short of a bigger story is going to get the spotlight off us,” she said.

“What if we could tone down the sensationalism?” I suggested. “A producer and the lead in his show spotted at a sex club is a scandal. A producer who’s dating an actress who is in his show isn’t completely non-news, but it would change how people would view last night. We were a couple exploring things together, not two people sneaking around.”

London frowned. “It still won’t look good for either of us. It could hurt the show.”

“It could,” I agreed.

“Let’s not make a rash decision,” she said. “We agreed to keep things quiet for a reason, and I need to think about what changing that would mean for me.”

“You’re right,” I agreed.

London climbed out of bed. “I’m going to tell my friends either way. Even if the story doesn’t make headlines, they’ll hear about it, and I want it to come from me. Especially Mercedes.”

I reached across the bed and grabbed her hand. “It’s going to be okay, London. We’ll figure it out.”

She nodded, but didn’t look at me. I didn’t blame her. Though it was unfair, the woman usually bore the brunt of these things. I’d be written off as another horny man getting his rocks off. She’d be labeled a slut and a deviant, especially if people thought we’d gone there as a one-off and not because we were a couple.

“If we’re lucky,” she added, “it won’t be an issue because someone more important than us will do something notable, and we’ll be worried about nothing.”

Somehow, I didn’t think it’d be that simple, but I didn’t say it. I’d let her have hope as long as possible.

TWENTY-EIGHT

LONDON

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