Page 9 of The Forever Promise

“Huh.” My stomach dropped. “When was that?”

“Yesterday.” Midge frowned. “But enough about her! I was so worried aboutyou. Old Hazel kept her mouth shut. We all knew she was the last one to talk to you besides Mr. Windsor, but she didn’t say a peep. So we’veallbeen worried. And Mr. Windsor’s been abear. Literally—like a bear on his period.”

I couldn’t help it: I laughed. “I’m sure it’s been hard because of his father. What a mess.”

She started working on taming my unruly brows, no small feat after two weeks away from her ministrations. “There’s been reporters in the harbor non-stop. Someone even snuck onto the island in the middle of the night! He hid in the woods, trying to get a picture first thing in the morning. Security gothim, all right.”

I shook my head. “That’s awful.”

“I know.” She nodded, eyes wide. “All of us are on edge—different news outlets have been calling the staff, trying to get a story. Mr. Windsor is making all of us stay here, and our phones are being monitored. He gave us all raises, though. Like,bigraises. And it’s not like I mind living at a mansion for the rest of the summer!”

“Wow. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“None of us cam.” Midge started on my mascara. “Daphne’s having a hard time of it. She had to move back into the main house with Mr. Windsor because they can’t be having their dirty laundry splashed all over the internet right now. She was just about to file for divorce, did you know that?”

“Yeah, I heard something…”

Midge sighed. “We need to catch up more, but let’s get you into your dress. You know what I always say—Mr. Windsor doesn’t like to wait!”

My stomach flipped. I wasn’t ready to see Bryce again, and I certainly wasn’t prepared to be on freakingtelevision. “Do you know what’s happening? Bryce said it was a press conference.”

“I think it’s more of an interview.” Midge guided me back to the bedroom, and without blushing, she stripped me out of my clothes and started throwing undergarments at me. She rummaged through the wardrobe as she said, “The reporter’s the lady from the cable-news network. You know, the famous one? With the blond hair and the legs?”

“I don’t know who she is.”Famous? Cable news?I felt like I might be sick.

“She’s terrific. Mr. Windsor agreed to meet with her—he doesn’t want to deal with all the riffraff paparazzi who have been spying, but he felt like he needed to make some kind of statement. At least, that’s what Dale said.” Midge ordered me to step into an emerald-green sheath dress, then zipped me up. “Perfect. I read on the internet that jewel tones work best on camera. You look gorgeous, Chloe—and appropriate. A proper Windsor.”

She handed me a pair of strappy sandals, and I groaned. “You know the drill, Chloe! Put ‘em on and stand up straight. They’ll make your butt look good.” Her phone buzzed. “They’re waiting—we have to go.”

I muttered to myself as I put on the shoes, but as I glanced in the mirror, I knew they were the right choice. The heels made me taller, making me feel more grown up and confident.

Which I needed to feel. Because I was about to go see my estranged husband and smile for a famous cable-news lady and her camera crew. “Do I have to do this?” My voice came out small.

“Windsors aren’t quitters.” Midge put her hand on my back and marshaled me out the door. “And you’re a Windsor, right?”

“Right,” I said weakly. “Right.” But as I tottered down the stairwell, I wondered who I was trying to fool. I was ChloeBurkefrom the crummy part of East Boston, a hired bride. I was a fraud.

Still, I lifted my chin as I glimpsed Bryce waiting below. I was a fraud and a no one, but after three months, I would be a multi-millionaire.

And then no one—not even my husband—could ever hurt me again.

FIVE

strictly business

“Chloe.”Bryce nodded at me. “You look perfect—that dress will work great on camera. Are you ready?”

“Not really.” My palms started sweating, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I was faced with his handsomeness again or because we were about to be on television—probably both. “I wasn’t expecting this. Do Ihaveto be part of the press conference?”

He held out his arm for me. When I hesitated, he sighed. “This has to look real. I’mpayingyou for it to look real.”

“Fine.” I took his arm and steeled myself against the shock that ran up my skin—touching Bryce always affected me.

He glanced at me sharply. Did he feel something, too? But he turned away, a smooth mask of detachment settling over his features. “We’re meeting Kysa Reeves in the study. They’re almost finished setting up.”

I swallowed hard. “Midge said she’s famous.”

“You’ve never heard of her?” Bryce sounded surprised.

---