“Not concerned? How can you be not concerned? This can’t be good for the show.”
“Actually…Scott? Would you like to tell Brystin what you were telling me?”
Scott throws me a look, and I know he’s thinking about her reputation and the harm these sorts of continued rumors might have for her in the long run.
But his job is to protect the network, not Brystin Shaw. “Ratings have gone up by thirty percent since the latest round of gossip. It’s not hurting the show at all.” He pulls out the graphs for her, and she studies them with a gaping mouth.
Such a beautiful f**king mouth.
“But these viewers aren’t coming for the news. They’re coming for the scandal.” She addresses Scott directly, instead of me, which makes me feel strangely jealous. “They’ll drop off eventually.”
“Most likely,” he agrees. “I doubt we’ll lose any viewership over it, though. Maybe we’ll eventually net zero, but it probably won’t be noticeable since you’re in the growth phase anyway. Best to ignore it and let the rumors die down. You didn’t even notice them yourself until today, I’m guessing?”
“I’ve been doing my best to avoid social media, after last time, but Elvis got tagged, and he brought it to my attention.” She hurries through her explanation, seeming to still be concerned about repercussions. “But the things they’re insinuating…”
She takes a beat and then turns her focus to me.
The things they’re insinuating are true. She won’t say it in front of Scott.
“I’ve got this, Scott. Thanks for pulling everything together on such short notice. Let me know if anything changes.”
He agrees and gives some sort of farewell that I’m not paying attention to because Brystin is in orbit, and I can feel the pull of her gravity like she’s the moon, and I’m the tide. She has me drowning already, and once Scott leaves, we’ll be alone, and I’m claiming not responsible for my actions when it’s just the two of us.
I’m f**king thrilled.
Brystin doesn’t seem to share my excitement. As soon as the door shuts, she’s in my face, and not in a good way. “These aren’t rumors, Hadrian.”
“I’m aware of what the truth is.”
“They’re calling me a cheater and a homewrecker, which is terribly sexist, considering it’s you who is essentially the homewrecker in this situation. Everyone just assumes. Elvis has sympathy tweets pouring in, as though he’s being mistreated in this whole thing. No one understands the real deal.”
As usual, the mere mention of Elvis riles me. “What is the real deal, exactly, Brystin?”
“I mean…” Her ch*st rises and falls, her eyes locked with mine. Internally, I dare her to say it. Dare her to tell me that her marriage is a scam.
“What, Brystin? What is it you mean?”
If she’d just admit it, then…
I don’t know what then. It’s not something I can even think about until she does.
But she swallows, and when she speaks again her fight is back. “The real deal is that you offered me a job that I wanted in exchange for sex. That’s the real deal, Hadrian.”
She has every right to turn this back on me. Nothing she’s said is a lie. But it feels like a threat, and even more, it feels like a dismissal of everything we’ve shared together. “Are you saying you want to take that accusation publicly? And before you answer, remember whose reputation usually suffers in situations like this.”
It’s a low blow, and she takes it as such, her eyes misting as she tries to shake off tears. “No, Hadrian. I’m not suggesting I take it public. I put myself in this position, and I acknowledge that. I guess I thought that you would give a shit, but f**k me for expecting anything from someone who doesn’t have any meaningful relationsh*ps.”
She turns to leave the room, and that thrill I had at her arrival is completely turned into panic.
I jump out of my seat and follow after her, catching her with an arm around her waist. “Don’t leave.” My voice sounds foreign and full of need, and I’m grateful that she’s facing away and can’t see my face, which probably shows more of the same. Pulling her against me, her back to my ch*st, the smell of her hair intoxicates me, and collectively we sigh together.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks, the same question she asked on Saturday night.
f**k if I know. I don’t have the words for the reason behind my compulsion, so I answer with a question instead. “What do you need from me?”
She pauses, and I sense she’s going through a list, trying to pick the answer she thinks is best. “Stop giving the p**ss something to comment on,” she says finally.
I wish I could know what the other choices were that she bypassed for this one.
“If you mean stop with the publicity events, I can’t do that, Brystin. This show is too important.” But I know that isn’t what she means, and again, I’m glad we aren’t face-to-face. Glad that she can’t see that what I really mean is that she’s important. That I can’t bear to give up the opportunities to be with her, as selfish as that is.
She nods, her hair tickling my jaw. “The publicity events are fine, Hadrian. As long as they’re really warranted. But you can’t parade me around on your arm like I’m yours. And we can’t disappear to…”
“I’m not the only one who can’t keep my hands to myself.”
“I know. I’m going to be better. I have to be.”
She’s trying to sever this thing bet**en us, and part of me is grateful that she’s strong enough to make the attempt, but a bigger part of me feels like I’m losing a limb, and I feel desperate to hold on. I can’t help but believe that there’s something I could say that would make all of this better, but I don’t know what it is, and besides, she’s right.
This is the right thing to do. For her, for me. For the company.
I bury my face in her neck. “I don’t know how not to want you.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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