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“So, Mr. Nash, what can I do for you?” she asks.
I contemplate where to start, and ultimately I decide to dive right in. “Well, I have a publicist I worked with back in Los Angeles, but I think I’d like to work with someone local. And, uh…I’m in a relationship with someone who could use some media training.”
“A relationship?” she asks, resting her hand on her chin as she leans forward conspiratorially. “Tell me more.”
I twist my lips for a beat. “This doesn’t leave this room, right?”
She picks up a folder and tosses it across the desk. “If you sign that NDA at the end of the contract to hire me, it doesn’t.”
I scowl, but I glance through the details, and it all seems pretty standard. I sign on the dotted line and push the folder back toward her. “My first night in town, I met a girl. Took her back to my hotel room. Things were great. Found out a week later she’s my best friend’s little sister.”
“You don’t know who your best friend’s little sister is?” she asks.
“Not when I’m originally from New York and somehow met up with her in Vegas, and I haven’t seen her in a decade.” I shrug.
“I’m kind of teasing. The truth is I didn’t know who my brother’s best friend was, and then I married him.”
My brows dip. “Luke? Who’s your brother?”
“Josh Nolan.”
“Ah,” I say with a nod. “Yeah. Nolan’s a beast.” He’s another now-retired receiver I had a hard time blocking back in the day.
“He’s just my brother,” she says with a laugh. “Actually, he and his wife live across the street, and we see them all the time. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. So now you’re in a relationship with her?”
“Kind of. The truth is that I was pretty angry with her for lying to me, and then her ex got involved, and photos were posted…long story short, I told her brother that we’re in a fake relationship.”
“Fake?” she asks, her eyes lighting up. “Fake relationships are my specialty!”
Oh Jesus. What the hell have I gotten into with this woman?
“But I do have just one very important question I have to ask you, and since you signed the paperwork, this really does stay between the two of us.”
My brows dip. “What is it?”
“Is it fake for both of you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” she says, as if this isn’t the most confusing conversation I’ve had today. “Is it as fake for her as it is for you?”
I think about holding her last night in my arms after a nightmare woke her up. I think about climbing out of her bed this morning and kissing her the way I’ve wanted to for days. I think about the anger I’m still holding onto. I think about her brother. I think about our night together at the Palms.
“Well?” she prompts me.
I guess I was thinking about all of that shit longer than I realized.
I blow out a breath. “To be honest, I’m not really sure.”
“That it’s fake for her? Or fake for yourself?”
“Both. Either. Neither. Fuck, I don’t know,” I say, running a palm along my jaw.
“Do you have real feelings for her?” she asks.
“Yes. But I promised her brother I’d look out for her, and a real relationship with me wouldn’t be protecting her the way she needs me to.”
She stares at me a long time as she processes that, and then she finally says, “Don’t you think it would be worth the risk?”
