Page 3 of Pretend To Be Mine

“Little early for that, don’t you think?” I muttered.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Sebastian replied cheerfully. “Besides, I think we could all use one after that performance.”

“I don’t need your commentary right now.”

“Tough. You’re getting it anyway.” The glass appeared in front of me, amber liquid catching the light. “Drink. Then we talk. You’re wound up tighter than Briggs.”

“I’m not wound up,” Briggs said. “I’m in control.”

I grabbed the glass and downed it in one burning swallow. The whiskey scorched its way down my throat, but it did take the edge off my anger.

Briggs leaned against the table, arms crossed. “Carol’s idea isn’t completely insane.”

“Oh, yes it is.”

“Hear me out,” Briggs interrupted. “Think about it logically. Adrian Blackwell getting engaged would be massive news. It would be like a Kardashian getting a butt reduction—completely unnatural and therefore completely fascinating.”

Despite everything, a short laugh escaped me. “Did you really just compare me to a Kardashian’s butt?”

“I mean, you are being a bit of an ass.” Briggs’s expression remained serious. “But I’m not joking, Adrian. You getting engaged would change the entire narrative. It would show growth, maturity, commitment. All the things the press is claiming we don’t have.”

“Then why don’t you get engaged?” I shot back. “Or Sebastian? Or Dash? Why does it have to be me?”

Sebastian snorted. “Because you’re the face of the company, big brother. You’re the official CEO. You’re the eldest. And let’s be honest—you’re the only one of us who’s been living like a monk for the past year.”

“I’ve been working,” I said defensively. “Someone has to keep this ship afloat. Which may I just point out, my monkhood should already be enough to refute the playboy thing. One of you get married.”

“You’ve done a great job,” Dash chimed in from across the table. “But Sebastian’s right. You’ve barely been seen in public unless it was for company business. You haven’t dated anyone. Hell, you haven’t even hooked up with anyone as far as I know.”

“Which can’t be healthy,” Sebastian threw in.

“You’re the perfect candidate for a sudden engagement because it would actually be shocking,” Dash continued. “People would assume that’s why you’ve been lying low. People would question everything they thought they knew. It’s free publicity, Adrian. A slam dunk, really.”

I wanted to argue, but they had a point. After Dad died, I’d thrown myself completely into work. The company had needed steady leadership, and I’d been determined to provide it. There hadn’t been time for anything else—not parties, not women, not even friendships beyond my three brothers. And even if I did have time for those things? They did nothing to fill the gaping hole the loss of my father had blown through my chest.

“You don’t actually have to get married,” Sebastian added helpfully. “Just keep up the charade until after Love Week. Then you can quietly break it off. The public will eat it up. Star-crossed lovers torn apart by the pressures of fame or whatever bullshit story we spin.”

“That’s incredibly dishonest,” I said.

“It’s PR,” Dash countered. “Same thing.”

Briggs pushed off from the table and began pacing, his mind clearly working through the logistics. “Here’s how I’m picturing it. We hire an actress through a reputable agency. Someone discreet who can sign an airtight NDA. She plays the role of your devoted fiancée for the next month—attends the shows, does some press with you, posts on social media. After the finale in New York, you announce an amicable split. Everyone walks away happy.”

“Except for the part where we’re lying to the entire world,” I pointed out.

“Welcome to the fashion industry,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “Half of what we do is smoke and mirrors anyway. This is just a different kind of styling.”

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. Was I really contemplating this? A fake engagement to save face?

But it wasn’t just about saving face, was it? This was about honoring Dad’s final vision. This was about legacy.

“If I agree to this insanity,” I said slowly, “I’m choosing the woman.”

Three pairs of eyes locked onto me.

“What do you mean?” Briggs asked.

I sat up straight, decision made. “I mean if I’m going to pretend to be engaged to someone, I pick. I don’t trust you assholes not to set me up with some ogre just to fuck with me.”