Page 56 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

That’s how pissed off I am.

“Luxury Hotel CEO Too Distracted by Journalist to Focus on His Failing Resorts,” she repeats the headline, and my anger goes up another notch when I hear it again.

“It’s bad,” Donovan says somberly.

“What I don’t get is where did they get the photos?” she asks. “There was virtually nobody on the beach last night.”

She’s referring to the photos attached to the articles. Photos of Scarlett and me kissing. While they’re not bad photos by any means, they’re actually quite good, but they are obviously giving off the wrong impression. The impression that I am a fuckboy.

“Apparently not,” I snap. “I wonder if it was that woman…”

“What woman?” Scarlett asks.

“There was a woman?” Donovan asks.

“The woman at the restaurant who offered to take a photo for us,” I say.

“She used my phone, though,” Scarlett argues. “And I’m pretty sure I saw her get in a car and leave with her family. Besides, she seemed sweet and didn’t seem to recognize either of us.”

“That’s what she wants us to think,” I say, but Scarlett just shakes her head.

“I feel like it was someone else. Someone lurking in the shadows.”

She shudders, and it hits me that the only thing I hate worse than another blemish on my reputation is Scarlett being bothered and violated by all of this.

“I’ve had a stalker before,” she says solemnly. “When I was in Italy reviewing pasta makers. It was terrifying.”

“Nobody is stalking you,” I state. But what I mean is, nobody is going to stalk her or us or anyone else. “I think it’s pretty obvious who is at the bottom of this.”

Scarlett looks confused, but Donovan just nods. “I was wondering about that.”

“What?” Scarlett asks. “Who?”

“My brother,” I answer, and she nods.

“He’s really willing to drown both of you if it means feeling like he’s on top?” she asks.

“Oh honey, Conrad Bale will do anything to compete with Morgan,” Donovan says.

“Enough talking about it,” I growl. “I need to figure out what we are going to do about it.”

“I just can’t believe people spun those photos around into something negative,” Scarlett says. “Why is it a bad thing for the heir of Bale Resorts to be in a relationship? You’d think that would be a good thing.”

“It would be,” I say. “If they knew we are in a relationship.”

“Right now they think the same thing they thought before,” Donovan states. “That Morgan here is a playboy.”

“Well, why don’t we set them straight?” Scarlett asks. “I’ll create a post right now. Let’s go viral.”

I like her ambition, but the action involved makes me nervous. Only because once we post something like that, it’s real and there’s no going back. Of course, there isn’t really any going back now. Currently, we seem to be sliding further into the hole that Conrad is going to attempt to bury me in.

I take in a deep breath and hold it for a moment. “Alright. Do it. Pull the trigger.”

As tense as I am when I give her the go-ahead, Scarlett seems excited. I’m not sure if it’s because she gets to say she’s dating me or because this kind of stuff, social media posts and such, is what she does for a living. Probably the latter. Either way, she’s buzzing as she pokes away at her phone. Meanwhile, I can’t seem to sit still.

I pull my phone out, check notifications, emails, and the weather. Of course, none of that helps because most of the notifications are about the negative press. I let out a hefty sigh and set my phone down on the table, picking my coffee up instead. My stomach is feeling acidic enough as it is.

“Just make sure it doesn’t look like a fling,” I say, leaning towards Scarlett in an attempt to see her screen. But she turns away so I can’t, a teasing smile on her lips.