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“When you and I got lazy and got caught, that was because you swore you would marry me. And now you won’t?—”
“I can’t.”
“He promised not to talk and now he has,” Bridget said. “So what difference does it make?”
“A lot of difference.”
“You were never going to marry me, Rick. You were never all that serious.”
“I was. I love you, Bridget. I do. And it wasyouwho wouldn’t leave him completely.”
“Men like you don’t marry girls like me. Staying afforded me security until I could dump him.”
“Bridge, please,” I begged.
“Goodbye, Rick.”
She hung up.
I slammed my phone into the bank of the creek in frustration, kicking my feet. What could I do? I thought I had leverage—assuming she cared enough to pity me. She didn’t and I had no pull. I wondered if I could pay them off but came up short.
Hearing her voice pained me. I wanted to see her. All the desire to be near her rushed back but I had no hope. She was no longer in the cards. Never again would I hold her or wake up next to her. The finality hit me like a wall. We’d never had the conversation to end it. I’d been radio silent because of my father’s threat to cut me off.
I looked at the grove of trees shading a bench and focused on the sound of leaves flapping. The breeze distracted me momentarily before it dawned on me. A distraction was what I needed. If it could be done, I would pivot. The press wanted to line their pockets with a scandal but maybe they could print money instead with a juicy feel-good story.
Martin stood behind me. I knew he’d heard everything. He was very much aware of the situation.
“What would you do?” I asked. “If the press knew and you needed to spare your entire family the shame, what would you do, Martin?”
“The press work where the money is. If his story is most compelling and they have already paid, it will be imperative they run it. They have families to feed, too. He’s in the wrong. He’s horrible, but the press are just trying to pay their employees. Unless they have a better offer, I know they will run the story. It’s sad. I am sorry.”
“We need to give them a better story, then,” I said.
“Yes, that could work. But what?”
“Well, I am not about to cure cancer, Martin. However, I do have a girl proposing a marriage scheme and what do the press like more than royal weddings?”
“Sir, your brother was just married.”
“And he dated Marie in total secret. There was no lead-up. They barely allowed the press to do anything until the big day. They would be salivating for a royal-marrying-royal set-up, yeah?”
“I suppose that could work, sir.” Martin fought a smile, but I suspected he agreed.
“It will only work if it is the one outlet. We can’t let everyone have an exclusive. It’s an eye for an eye. We give them an even juicier exclusive, right?”
“That makes sense, sir.”
I was elated. I dialled my father.
“I have a proposition,” I said. “For the press. Whichever outlet has the proof. Is it only the one?”
“Yes. It is an exclusive. They paid him handsomely.”
“Then we need to guarantee we have something that can bring in more money.”
“We just had a royal wedding. While I’d like to believe that your brother was going to produce an heir shortly, it could… be awhile. I wouldn’t bank on that.”
“Could we not sell them another royal wedding and let them break the scandal of an engagement?”
